“The accusation?” Edward raised his voice at her word choice, unsure of how to react, “You are standing in my manor, inside my study, under my employment and holding me accountable for being ignorant towards my niece in the garden today?”
She was right, and Edward knew he had no reason to defend himself.
“Yes, My Lord,” she replied, surprising him even further with her courage, “Because, unlike most people, I cannot sit silently when I witness injustice being unfolded before me. I have a heart and so does Amy. The way you behaved towards her today by completely ignoring her when she clearly wished to be acknowledged by you is extremely cruel and undeserved. Why behave in this manner with an innocent child.”
“You have no right to question me, Miss Jennings,” Edward said, still unable to feel angry towards her.
“I have every right to question you, and I expect an answer,” she replied, refusing to back down.
“Might I ask who gave you this right? Where did it emerge from?”
“I have this right as Amy’s nanny who wishes the best for her and cannot see her unhappy. You are her uncle, her only living relative, and her guardian, and she deserves to have love from you, yet you continue to hold it back from her, which is painful to both suffer through and watch. I implore you to become better and let go of this at once, at least for Amy’s sake,” she said, stepping closer.
“You, Miss Jennings, are forgetting your place!” Edward replied, taking a few steps towards her in his own rage.
“I do not care!” Ophelia all but shouted, “You are an awful uncle, and you must be better for her. She has already lost her parents, My Lord, and I do not wish her to lose you as well. She does not deserve such brutality.”
“I did not ask for your comments and opinions on what Amy deserves and does not deserve, Miss Jennings. You have been hired to become her nanny, and it is about time you learnto respect the boundaries of your position and remember your place when conversing with me. I won’t tolerate disrespect!”
“I don’t care!” Ophelia thundered, stepping towards him until the two of them were face to face, their eyes boring in on each other. “I will give my opinions no matter what you think and believe, and it is your job as her last living relative to adhere to these opinions rather than act brashly.”
“Are you quite done speaking?”
“No, I am not!” she replied, Edward’s nonchalant behaviour working to make her angrier. “I won’t be done till you understand what you are doing is wrong.”
Edward opened his mouth to say something, but just then, she looked up, meeting his gaze as Edward felt a connection course through them. He did not know what was happening but neither of them could look away, the moment all too surreal. Her hazel eyes melted perfectly with her skin, making her appear even more beautiful in the candlelight.
Why can’t I seem to look away?
He could sense that she could feel it, too, as she stopped blinking, focusing on Edward alone. He could feel the heat between them, coursing into an electric tension as their hands slightly touched, with hardly any distance between their bodies.
Ophelia’s breathing quickened as the pair stayed completely silent, Edward’s mind going blank at the proximity. What was it about her that bothered him so much? Everything about the connection they shared seemed to feel deeper, growing constantly.
Just then, Ophelia blinked, backing away from him, and he backed away himself, the electric attraction that had been there moments ago still present. Although, he could sense how awkward she looked, and he, too, felt slightly vulnerable. The distance between them felt unnecessary, but Edward knew better than to try to come closer to her again.
“It’s getting late. I will take my leave. Good night, My Lord,” she said hastily, curtsying as she turned around.
Edward could not even mutter a good night back but silently watched her retreating form till the door closed behind her. What had just happened? And why did he not dislike it one bit?
***
The ballroom was filled with chandeliers lighting up the entire place magnificently. Ophelia caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors lining the wall, realizing how beautiful she looked in her green gown, which only made her hazel eyes stand out. Her blonde hair was tied up in a neat chignon, a few tendrilsframing her face to make it appear softer. She had never felt prettier.
She looked forward, and just as she had wanted, Edward stood before her, his tux fitting him to perfection. He extended a hand towards her, and she placed her gloved palm in it as Edward led her to the dance floor. The set began to play, and the pair danced rhythmically, the music only making them soar higher and higher.
“You look beautiful, Ophelia,” Edward whispered as she ran her hand over his black sleeve. He, too, was beautiful.
Ophelia opened her mouth, trying to tell him that, but she was so stuck in his enchanting blue eyes that words almost refused to come to her. He was everything she had ever wanted, and he was before her, holding her in his arms as they danced in front of the world.
She wanted to tell him she loved him, but the music was loud, and the thumping of her heart even louder. He held her very close, his hands encircling her waist as they continued to dance, the entire floor empty around them.
Ophelia looked around, and the ballroom was completely empty as well, just her and Edward alone. His blue eyes shone brightly as he continued to stare at her as if whispering sweet nothings.
“Keep looking at me, Ophelia,” he whispered, his tone soft but demanding. “Keep staring here.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but speaking felt impossible once again as if all the words she ever knew had been taken away from her. What was happening?
How was it real? How was anything about this moment real?
