Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“Wait here, Edmund. I shall only be a moment,” she said, thinking that the best alternative was for him to wait in plain sight while she chased after the dog.
The sensible and proper thing to do was to turn on her heels immediately and return to the picnic blanket, where Jenny would be waiting for her.
However, she could not simply let the dog walk off.
It was in pain and looked lost, and thinking of such an innocent creature being so troubled by things beyond its understanding brought sorrow to her heart.
Without waiting for his reply, Rose followed the dog’s path, weaving through trees and scanning the encroaching darkness with her eyes. She strained her ears but could hear nothing.
“You shouldn’t be here by yourself. There’s no telling what kind of scoundrels lurk in the shadows.”
“And I suppose you would know a lot about being a scoundrel. In how many shadows have you lurked?” she challenged, still looking for the dog.
She bent down to push back leaves and peered behind trees.
She looked to the ground, hoping the dog had left some footprints, but if it had, then they were indistinguishable within the bracken.
“Far too many to count,” he replied. “What do you hope to achieve by this?”
“I hope to find that dog. It seemed in distress.”
“And now it has run off, presumably back home. Dogs have a keen sense for these things. They are survivors. I am sure you do not need to worry about them.”
“I wonder how it got its limp. What if it were attacked by another dog? What if its owners are cruel?” she asked, suddenly fraught with the possibility that the dog had returned to a threatening situation.
The color drained from her face, which wasn’t helped by the cold temperature of the air.
She shivered without thinking about it, her lips trembling, her hands clasping together.
The dress she wore had been sensible for daylight, but she needed more protection.
“You are truly worried about that creature, aren’t you?
” Edmund asked, slowly coming closer to her.
Loose twigs and leaves cracked beneath the weight of his long strides.
He tilted his head and had a curious look upon his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe that someone might care for something other than themselves.
“Are you so heartless that you cannot imagine one might have some compassion?”
“No, I just… It’s rare. And I have always believed that these animals can take care of themselves. I am sure there’s no reason to fret.”
“I would just like to make sure, that’s all.”
“You cannot save every lost creature.”
“I know, but not to try would be cruel. Even if things are impossible, it does not mean we should not strive to achieve them. We might discover a lot about the world and ourselves along the way.”
“For someone who hasn’t truly lived, you speak lofty words, my lady.”
“We simply have different definitions of living. I am sure there are plenty of people who might think that the life you live is hollow.”
Edmund arched an eyebrow. His eyes narrowed slightly. She thought she might finally have struck close to the bone, although it was so hard to tell with him.
“And would you be one of them?”
“Does my opinion matter that much to you?” she asked.
Edmund pursed his lips and exhaled slowly.
“No. I am not a book for you to critique. I am a man, and in the end, my life shall be weighed by the Almighty.”
“And do you believe it will be weighed in the favor of virtue?”
Edmund smirked.
“What would you know of virtue? What would you know of sin? You know nothing, my lady. To you, life is like a painting; to me, I have stepped into it. Have you ever found yourself in strife? Have you ever felt the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders, ready to crush you?”
“Have you?” she fired back, before the sharp expression on her face faded.
With the way he spoke and acted, it was easy to forget that he had indeed experienced sorrow.
He was just so carefree and cavalier that it was as though nothing mattered to him.
But, having remembered herself swiftly, Rose caught herself.
“Your parents,” she corrected, her words a soft whisper. The light seemed to fade with every moment, darkness being drawn over them like a cloak. The trees obscured the stars, and the shadows stretched over them. One of them hid half of Edmund’s face, making him brood.
“We should return. I wouldn’t want this to cause any unwanted rumors. Imagine the scandal if people spoke about us sneaking away to a hidden copse as the night set in. They might get the wrong idea and think that this is a place for romance.”
“You can talk about them, you know. Your parents,” she said softly.
Edmund turned away, showing his back to her.
“I do not dwell on sad things. I find them most unpleasant. Life is for living, for joy. That is the only thing that concerns me,” he said, although for the first time Rose began to doubt the sincerity of his words.
Perhaps it was for the best that they should leave this place, however.
She certainly wouldn’t want any whispers to arise.
As she took her second step, she failed to notice a divot in the ground.
Her ankle turned, and a sharp pain flared.
It only lasted for a moment, but it was enough to interfere with her balance. To steady herself, she reached out.
The only thing within reach was a thorny branch.
Because she moved by instinct, she did not think about the risks.
As soon as she curled her fingers around it, she felt another jolt of pain in her thumb.
She pulled it away and saw a trail of blood flowing from the tip of her thumb.
Her cry of pain caught Edmund’s attention, and he came rushing over to her.
She had managed to keep herself from falling, but had not emerged unscathed.
“What happened?” he asked, and immediately saw the wound on her hand. He grabbed her wrist and pulled it toward him, turning her palm up. He gently nudged her thumb away from her hand. The trail of blood trickled like a thin stream along her thumb and dripped down the side of her hand.
“I just caught my thumb. It is nothing serious,” Rose said, blushing and feeling frustrated that she had made such a foolish mistake. “And you are breaking my rule.” She tried to pull her hand away, but he would not let go.
“Would you rather me obey the rules, or tend to your wound? See, this is what happens when you run after lost creatures. You invariably end up getting into trouble yourself.”
“It’s only a small wound. It’s not as though I lost my thumb entirely.”
“I am not sure about that. This could get infected. I might have to take it off right here and now. I will have to use one of the knives I brought. It should be like cutting into a thick steak,” he said, grinning.
“You are not as funny as you think you are.”
Despite his grim words, Edmund handled her wound with delicacy. He gently swept away the blood with a handkerchief and then wrapped said handkerchief tightly around her thumb. The pressure hurt a little, but he had a practiced hand.
“You’ve done this before,” she said, noticing the way he precisely folded the handkerchief around her thumb.
“It happened to us many times as children. They probably don’t remember it, but I had to do this very thing for Lydia and Charlotte frequently.”
His voice was low, and concentration was etched upon his face.
Rose stared at him. He might have been a rake, but she felt entirely safe in his presence.
And, she was beginning to see a different side to him, the side that Lydia had spoken about.
It was easy to forget amid all his bluster, but this was a man who had taken on the responsibility of caring for his younger sisters after their parents had died.
He had been a young man when it happened. How would she have coped if she were thrust into such a position?
The answer did not come to her, though, as there was far too much playing on her mind otherwise.
“There we go. You should be fine now, though you may want to have someone look at it when you get home. And feel free to keep the handkerchief. It might make a nice keepsake to mark the occasion,” he said, again with his customary grin.
Rose couldn’t imagine she would ever want to keep his blood-stained handkerchief for anything.
“You are well, aren’t you, Rose? It’s just that I know some women feel quite shaken at the sight of blood,” he said.
As she drew her gaze away from his hand, she suddenly realized how close he was.
There was barely an inch between them. She slipped her hand out of his and felt tension running across her chest. There was a sense that the rest of the world was melting away.
His eyes, his lips… everything about him dominated her vision.
His voice was low and seductive, almost enough for her to ignore the patronizing nature of his words. How many other women had been in this position? How many other women had given in to the urge and felt his lips upon theirs?
He was close enough so that she was almost curious, almost… tempted. His warm breath drifted toward her, and she wasn’t cold any longer. It was surreal, as though for a moment she had completely lost herself.
“My lady! Where are you?” Jenny’s voice came rising through the air, like a cold snap of reality.
It helped bring some sense to Rose’s mind.
Rose stepped away, gulping to compose herself and still the tremors that reverberated within her heart.
This wasn’t proper. It wasn’t even wanted.
Edmund was hardly the type of man she desired, although in truth, she had never given the matter enough thought to decide what type of man that would actually be.
“We should return,” she said, and strode back the way she came. She clasped her hands together, but still wasn’t paying proper attention to the ground. Thankfully, her feet found no divots, and she emerged from the copse, breathing a sigh of relief as Jenny rushed toward her.
Edmund was not far behind.
“My lady, I apologize. I must have lost sight of you,” Jenny said, her face etched with worry.
“There is no need to apologize. The fault is mine. I saw a stray, wounded dog, and I followed in case it needed assistance, but it was scared and ran away from me when I got too close.”
“That is most kind-hearted of you, my lady. Is His Grace…” Jenny said, but then realization came to her eyes as Edmund appeared. Her expression shifted, and Rose wondered if she believed something untoward had happened.
Jenny grew closer as she unfolded the shawl, and only then saw Rose’s wound.
“My lady,” she gasped. “What happened?”
“It’s really nothing. I caught my thumb on a thorn, and His Grace was kind enough to tend to the wound.”
“Yes, it was a harrowing ordeal, and she was close to losing her life, but I managed to stop her from bleeding to death. Let us not share this with anyone, though; they would only throw a parade at my heroism,” he said.
Jenny giggled while Rose rolled her eyes.
“I believe it is time for us to return home. As you suggested, Edmund, I should have someone see to my thumb,” she said, eager to bring the evening to an early close, considering the strange feeling that had swept over her in the copse when he was so close.
I must have been suffering from blood loss.
“That is a shame because we have to miss out on the evening activities I planned. I was going to wrap a string around a star and pull it from the sky for you, but alas, we shall have to leave that to the realm of imagination.”
Rose was almost tempted to stay and call his bluff. Instead, she was tired of his bickering and was keen to bring the day to an end.
“It was a pleasure, Edmund. I shall see you again soon. Now we have four to go,” she said, making sure to remind him that the moments were counting down.
“Indeed, Rose. And next time we must try to avoid any harrowing bloodshed,” he said. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing it with a soft kiss. “Take care of my handkerchief. I am rather fond of it,” he said.
Then, he nodded to Jenny and escorted them back to the carriage. The footman was waiting for them. Edmund then returned to the picnic area. As the carriage drove away with the steady clop of hooves, Rose turned back and saw Edmund blowing out the candles one by one. She settled into her seat.
All in all, it had not been an unpleasant day.