6. Quite Curious
6
Quite Curious
Rosalind grumbled as she tossed in bed, turning onto her side for what felt like the hundredth time. She hadn’t been able to sleep well, given what had happened the night before. The moment repeated in her head again and again, her hand clasped around Jonathan’s wrist. A tiny sliver of doubt made her question whether the memory was simply a fever dream brought about by too much wine and not enough sleep.
She opened one eye; light from the rising sun peeked through the curtains. It was early, but she knew Maria would be awake, so she slipped out of bed and tugged on a linen blouse, tucking it into an olive split skirt. When she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t help but frown. There were dark circles under her eyes and her hair was a tangled mess. Most nights she abided by a routine that included brushing and plaiting her hair. Last night, however, she had been too distracted for any of it. With a sigh, Rosalind wrangled her hair into a loose bun and pinched at her cheeks, hoping to put a little color back in her face.
“Maria, now I know it isn’t my day to bake,” she announced as she strolled into the kitchen, “but I couldn’t sleep, and I would really like something—”
Rosalind had barely entered the room when she stopped in her tracks. As expected, Maria was at the counter getting a head start on the day’s meal preparations. What surprised her was the familiar figure standing across from her.
“Jonathan,” she breathed. “What are you doing awake so early?” Realizing she sounded almost accusatory, she quickly added, “I mean, I didn’t expect you to be up at this hour after such a long evening.”
She had hoped to run into him today but didn’t imagine it would be so soon. She hadn’t yet thought of what to say to him or built up the courage to do so.
“Also couldn’t sleep,” Jonathan replied. He eyed her curiously as he sipped from his mug.
“Sounds like the sandman skipped you both last night,” Maria remarked, tilting her head toward the stove. “There’s a pot of freshly brewed coffee ready for you if Jonathan here hasn’t finished it all already.”
“Plenty to go around,” Jonathan commented. “Let me pour you one.”
The rich, earthy scent of coffee bloomed around them as he poured her a cup. He made his way over to her and held the cup out in front of him. Ribbons of steam wafted into the air as Rosalind eyed it, unmoving.
Her eyes trailed up to meet Jonathan’s, and she held his gaze for a long moment. She searched his eyes for any trace of hesitation but found only what seemed to be curiosity and anticipation. Tentatively, she reached out a hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Maria and stilled, suddenly aware they were not alone. She saw Jonathan’s gaze track hers to where the housekeeper stood. Just as he turned back to her, a voice called out from beyond the kitchen’s back entrance .
“Ma’am, I’ve come to drop off your produce for the week. Anyone there?”
“That’ll be Albert,” said Maria. “Go on and help the boy out for me, will you, Rosalind dear? I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”
“Yes, of course. Happy to be of assistance.” She threw Jonathan a quick glance before making her way out the door.
“Good morning, Albert,” she called out, greeting a broad-shouldered young man who stood beside a large wooden cart.
“G-good morning, Miss Rosalind,” he stammered in return, quickly pulling off his flat cap and running a hand through his auburn hair.
She gave a small smile and walked up to the rear of the cart to peek inside. “Oh, are those courgettes? Maria prepares a lovely dish with them.”
Albert nodded as he fiddled with the cap in his hands. “And if you open up the small pouch on top there, you’ll find some raspberries. I know they’re your favorite,” he added timidly.
Rosalind picked up the linen pouch and carefully untied its knot, revealing a large handful of ripe red raspberries. With the persistent dry weather that plagued Sauvign, they were hard to come by nowadays.
“These look lovely! But how did you…”
“Traded with another farmer traveling through the area,” he said proudly.
Rosalind grinned. “Thank you, Albert. It’s so kind of you to share some with me.” She popped one into her mouth, savoring the burst of sweet and tangy juice that danced on her tongue.
Albert looked at her as though he wished to speak but couldn’t. The silence soon began to drag.
Unable to take it any longer, Rosalind said, “Well, I’d best be off; things to do and all that. I’m certain Maria will be thrilled to see what you’ve brought us this week.” She reached back into the cart and picked up a crate overflowing with local fruits and vegetables.
“You look nice today,” Albert blurted out.
Rosalind’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.” It was all she could manage at first. “Thank you,” she added hurriedly. “Y-you look nice as well.” She offered him a sheepish smile, unsure of what else to say.
She didn’t have much personal experience in flirting or courtship, but she had read enough romance novels to recognize Albert’s intentions. That, and she had seen quite a few suitors attempt to court Valentina—unsuccessfully.
Although those outside high society didn’t often view her with contempt, many were afraid to consort with her should their employers hear of it. Others considered her a harbinger of misfortune, seeing as she had encountered misfortune herself. But Albert had never expressed such notions in the two years he had delivered produce to Brighthall. In fact, he had never shown her anything but kindness. It was only in the last few months that he appeared more nervous in her presence and had gone out of his way to bring her little tokens of affection, like the raspberries.
“This is quite full,” she commented when he didn’t reply, indicating the heavy crate in her arms. “It was good seeing you, Albert. Please do give your father our regards.”
Albert bowed. “I hope to see you again soon, Miss Rosalind.”
Rosalind blew at a lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face as she entered the kitchen, and she lugged the crate to a nearby table.
“Seems you have an admirer.”
She glanced over at Jonathan who leaned idly against the counter. “Oh, it’s nothing really. Friendly is all.”
“Friendly.” Maria huffed a laugh. “Asks about her every time he visits, he does.”
Rosalind felt her cheeks warm.
“Oh, courgettes,” the housekeeper exclaimed as she dug through the crate. “My! Are these what I think they are?”
Rosalind nodded. “Raspberries.”
“And you think he’s only friendly.” Maria leveled her a knowing look.
“I half thought the poor man might keel over when you returned his compliment,” Jonathan chimed in. “Though I did find it surprising he didn’t carry the crate in for you.”
“Oh, I rather prefer to do so myself to avoid any accidental, you know…” She trailed off, waggling her fingers in the air to get her point across.
“Speaking of,” Jonathan said. “I’d like to borrow you for a moment if I may. Fancy a stroll through the courtyard this fine morning?”
The morning fog had lifted, though the sky remained gray, as the pair followed a narrow flagstone path to the hidden courtyard. They walked quietly side by side until they approached a wall of massive green hedges. Hard to distinguish from afar was an opening between the hedges that marked the entrance of a maze. Jonathan broke the silence as they ventured inside.
“Couldn’t sleep, hmm? If I had to guess, I’d say it might have something to do with last night's surprise in the kitchen.”
Rosalind peered up at him, hope unfurling in her chest. “So it was real then? A part of me wondered if I had imagined it…”
“Sure felt real to me.”
Her pulse raced as they continued to weave their way through the maze, the sound of their footfalls along the gravel path echoing around them. It wasn’t long before the hedges gave way to an enclosed courtyard. Tall stone planters filled with flowers of all different colors and varieties encircled the hidden space, a marble compass medallion marking its center. A bistro table with intricate openwork floral details and two coordinating chairs stood off to one side.
“If you were at all curious, we could find out for certain,” Jonathan suggested.
Rosalind’s heart leaped at the proposal. “Quite curious,” she said as she rocked back and forth on her heels.
Jonathan moved to stand in front of her and held out a hand, his palm facing toward her. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She slowly lifted her hand until it was level with his. With a shaky breath, Rosalind guided it forward until their hands were only a hair’s breadth apart. She was close enough to have prompted the enchantment, yet nothing happened. Feeling emboldened, she stretched out trembling fingers until they met his.
Jonathan didn’t pull back, nor did the familiar golden sparks erupt between them. An astonished laugh escaped from Rosalind’s mouth as she pressed her palm against his.
Slowly and gently, as if afraid she might disturb the enchantment from its slumber, she brushed her fingertips down the length of his fingers and then across the small calluses that lined the top of his palm. She lifted her gaze to Jonathan in silent question.
He answered by turning his palm away from her, granting her permission to explore the back of his hand. The skin was cooler to the touch and smoother than his palm had been. She let her thumb lightly trace over the hills and grooves of his knuckles, and her brows shot up in surprise when she noticed how the size of his thumb dwarfed hers. Finally, her fingers grazed the dusting of delicate dark hairs that disappeared under the cuff of his shirt. Her eyes darted from his silver cufflink to the matching brooch pinned to the lapel of his jacket.
“Go on.”
Rosalind glanced up at Jonathan who stared back at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
She reached out and ran her fingers over the brooch, noting the letter R etched neatly into the silver. Tempted by the luxe fabric of his jacket, Rosalind swept a light touch along his lapel, its fine wool tickling her fingertips. She paused when she reached the edge of his collar, though her eyes continued to trail the length of his neck and follow the line of his sharp jaw. He showed the barest hint of a shadow, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he might look like with facial hair.
Her thoughts must have been evident because, wordlessly, Jonathan took her hand gently and brought it to rest against his cheek. Rosalind wondered if he could feel the slight tremble of her thumb as she lightly caressed the side of his face. It was soft, not at all coarse like she had imagined, then again, he’d likely shaved that morning. Her thumb stilled at the edge of his lips and a little voice in her head implored her to go on.
She blinked away the thought and looked up to find Jonathan watching her intently. Heat crawled up the back of her neck, and the sensation made her pull her hand away from him. The sound of her heart pounding in her chest reverberated in her ears and she was almost certain he could hear it.
“I didn’t dream it then,” she whispered.
“Am I often in your dreams?”
“No,” Rosalind exclaimed in a voice higher than intended.
Jonathan let out a low chuckle.
“D-do you think it has fully lifted?” Rosalind asked, attempting to distract from the blush that dusted her cheeks. “The enchantment, I mean.”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “but we could find out.”
Rosalind nodded.
Jonathan took a step toward her, narrowing the gap between them. “Well, we know I can touch your hand,” he explained. “Shall we try a little higher?”
He let his hand hover above her forearm for a moment before cautiously lowering it. Rosalind huffed a small laugh when his hand rested against her with not a spark in sight. Jonathan, too, let out a relieved breath.
Again, he let his hand hover inches away from her, this time at her shoulder. And once again, he lowered it slowly. To Rosalind’s dismay, sparks of golden light shot out.
Jonathan swore as he shook out his hand. “Not quite all the way,” he admitted ruefully.
Frustration knitted her brow; she bit the inside of her lip, willing herself to keep the disappointment at bay.
“We’re still three weeks away from your birthday,” Jonathan reminded her. His voice was soft as he spoke. “Perhaps it’s lessening by the day?”
With slight reluctance, Rosalind glanced at Jonathan and was met with an encouraging smile. Then his attention shifted to something over her shoulder.
“I believe our time is up.”
Rosalind followed his gaze to the entrance of the courtyard, and moments later, Louis appeared.
“Jonathan, Lord Aston is here to see you. I have escorted him into the study.”
Jonathan sighed and rubbed at his temple. “Ah, yes. He did mention last night that he hoped to speak with me privately. Tell him I’ll be with him soon, will you?”
Louis lowered his head. “Of course.” He lifted his head and greeted Rosalind. “Good morning, my dear.”
“Good morning, Louis.” Rosalind smiled .
“Seeing you two in here brings back old memories,” he said wistfully. "How time has flown by."