21. Words Left Unsaid
21
Words Left Unsaid
Rosalind woke to the sound of bickering.
“Be gentle, will you? Don’t throw her over your shoulder like some sort of unmannered ogre.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“There’s no need to play the hero, you know. We can ask someone else if you don’t think you can manage. Someone with a bit more brute strength. Like Mr. Raynor perhaps.”
“No need. I’m perfectly capable of carrying her up a few steps. I’d appreciate it if you could at least pretend to have a little faith in me.”
“It’s been a long and stressful day, brother, and if I’m being quite honest, you look knackered. I mean that in the most—”
“I think I can carry myself up,” Rosalind mumbled as she attempted to push herself into a sitting position.
“Ros, darling, you’re awake,” Valentina said cheerily. “Not entirely coherent, but awake. How are you feeling?”
Rosalind groaned. “Like I’ve had far too much to drink.” She rubbed at her eyes, trying to wipe away the haze. It wasn’t working all that well.
“Do you feel ill?” Valentina asked, a little alarmed.
“No, just very tired. And a bit muddleheaded,” Rosalind answered slowly, tongue heavy in her mouth. “And my arms feel like jelly. ”
Jonathan chuckled. It was such a pleasant sound. “How about your legs? Are they jelly as well?”
“More on the jammy side actually.”
“Oh dear,” he uttered, and Rosalind could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Shall we see what you’re like on your feet?”
Carefully, Jonathan helped her to stand. She managed to find her footing, but not for long. Her legs buckled underneath her, but Jonathan was there to catch her.
“How about I carry you instead, hmm?”
“But everybody will see,” she whispered, or at least she tried to.
“It’s really only Val and perhaps one or two patrons, but I get the sense they won’t remember much in the morning.”
Too tired to truly care, Rosalind wrapped her arms around his neck, and before she knew it, he was cradling her in his arms.
“Mind her head around the corners,” she heard Valentina call out from behind them as they made their way beyond the kitchen doors. Her head lolled against his chest as he carried her through the tavern and up the stairs. Warmth bloomed in her chest as she inhaled the familiar scent of amber and citrus that clung to Jonathan’s clothes.
“You smell nice,” Rosalind murmured.
She felt as much as heard his mirth. “I’m glad you think so. I’d hate to have to find a new one.”
Once upstairs, they headed down the hall to what had previously been Jonathan’s bedroom. Earlier that evening, Valentina had announced they’d be switching rooms, insisting his was larger and less drafty. Though Rosalind hadn’t noticed much difference, she went along with it—as did Jonathan.
Jonathan approached the bed and gently lowered Rosalind onto it. He unclasped her arms from around his neck and rested her hands atop her stomach. One of his hands remained over hers while the other brushed a strand of hair from her face .
“How’s Padraic?” she asked, recalling the reason for her grogginess.
“He’s doing better, thanks in part to you. Recuperating in the other room as we speak,” he said as he knelt beside the bed. “It was incredibly brave, what you did. We only learned the truth about wielding yesterday, and you’ve doubtless had proper time to come to terms with what you are. Taking part in something so unfamiliar would be daunting for anyone—yet you did it for someone you barely know.”
“He’s your friend.” Though she could hardly think straight, Rosalind could still picture the sorrow and concern etched across his face when Padraic first entered the tavern. “You looked so unlike yourself, and I wanted to bring you back.”
She wasn’t sure she was making any sense. A throbbing in her temples was steadily growing more prominent, and the words she managed aloud didn’t sound as coherent as they did in her head.
Jonathan smiled. “And you did. Thank you.” His smile dimmed slightly. “Ros, there’s something you should know. Something I should have told you last night, but…” He faltered. “But I didn’t. I convinced myself it wasn’t the right time and that it would be better to wait until things had settled down and we were back at Brighthall. But now, after everything that happened tonight, I don’t know when I’ll be home next.”
Rosalind’s chest tightened. “You won’t be returning with us?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I need to help Padraic and Ilora contend with the repercussions of today.”
It made sense, of course, for Jonathan to accompany the Masons to Meridian. If it were true that their father was to blame for what happened to Padraic, they would need all the help they could get. Rosalind understood this, but the knowledge did little to ease the constricting hold on her heart .
“I don’t want us to part without you knowing,” he continued. “Already, I fear my silence is little more than deceit, which is the last thing you deserve.”
Without her knowing what? He’d mentioned this earlier, hadn’t he? Admittedly, she’d been too preoccupied by the news he wouldn’t be returning with them to pay it any mind.
Jonathan leaned closer to the bed and squeezed her hand. Rosalind watched his throat bob up and down before he spoke. “I realize now is most certainly not the right time to tell you. One could argue this may, in fact, be the worst possible time to do so, but I don’t know how many more chances I’ll have before I leave. And, honestly, who’s to say when the right time will ever come? Does such a thing even exist? Besides, I doubt what I say will be all that surprising to you. It’s not as if I’ve been particularly discreet, especially as of late…”
Rosalind stared up at him, perplexed. She fought to keep her brows from knitting together, fearing he might think she was upset. Contrary to what he believed, she hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. It didn’t help that her head was aching in earnest now, and he was speaking unusually fast. If she didn’t know any better, she might think he was rambling.
A strangled noise escaped Jonathan as he ran a hand through his hair. “Somehow, I’ve arrived at a loss for words. Not in the literal sense, as evidenced by my inability to cease carrying on at this very moment. It’s merely that I can’t seem to find the right words to say, and I don’t wish to say the wrong thing. You see, it’s quite a delicate matter—one I’m sure you’ll need time to consider. This brings me back to why I believe now is as good a time as any to tell you that I find myself inexorably en—”
“I should never have doubted you, dear brother,” Valentina exclaimed as she burst into the room. “But I am not too proud to apologize for—” She stopped short when she saw them. “The interruption?”
“Val, give us another minute, will you? I’m kind of in the middle of something…”
Jonathan's voice trailed off as more figures stepped through the doorway. Rosalind squinted and slowly Quinn, Keeper Saintgarden, and Constance came into view. Each carried something with them—Quinn, a tray of tea; the Keeper, a wool blanket; and Constance, her instrument.
Head lowered and shoulders slumped, Jonathan let out a hollow laugh. " So close. Serves me right for prattling on like a fool," he murmured to himself before pushing to his feet. Rosalind shivered at the sudden loss of warmth as his hand slipped from hers.
Jonathan cleared his throat and made to straighten his jacket, only to realize he wasn’t wearing one. “Come to take care of her, have you? Good. Very good,” he voiced to no one in particular. "Well, seeing as my work here is done, I suppose I shall leave you ladies to it.”
He glanced down at Rosalind once more. "Rest well, and I’ll see you when you wake up.” For the briefest of moments, it looked as if he might say something more. But instead, he bid the women farewell and excused himself from the room.
All four women quickly descended on Rosalind, not allowing her the time to fret over what Jonathan had been about to say. Quinn fed her tea, and Constance tended to her headache. Valentina and the Keeper rushed about adjusting the pillows and blankets to ensure she was comfortable. They helped her into her nightgown as she drifted in and out of consciousness and it wasn’t long before she plunged into a deep sleep.