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Author: blueeyedbookworm, blue-eyed_bookworm@hotmail.com
Author: Kat (blueyedbookworm)
Part 1
“Well,” I thought, “Here I am again.”
The music swirled around me as I sat on my little bench, alone as usual. The world of my periphery was a blur of color, music, and laughter. My seat was beginning to feel hard and uncomfortable, and I could smell the currant-wine scented conversation coming from the plump, noisy couple sitting nearby.
But I cared not. This seat, dearly won as it was, was a vastly better situation than I would be met with were I to stand up with some foppish gentleman and let my toes be trod upon while listening to his vapid, simpering conversation. No, I was far better off where I was, in this comparatively private corner of the dance hall. I peeped over the edge of The Iliad to see my second eldest sister wheeling about the dance floor to the music – a waltz. Lizzie was in the arms of her fiancé, Mr. Darcy. I still couldn’t fathom what she saw in that gentleman. He seemed so cold, so dull. I could not deny that he had done our family a service in the matter of Lydia’s deplorable indiscretion (though I was still a bit confused on the particulars), and his reserve was admirable – I simply couldn’t bear a man who prattled on about nothing more substantial than the weather or inquiries about my family’s health – but his haughtiness was objectionable. Nevertheless, Lizzie seemed to be enjoying herself with Mr. Darcy – she was laughing most joyfully, apparently at something he had just said. I rolled my eyes behind my book in a very unladylike manner, hoping for her sake that she could get used to the conceit and a tendency toward aloofness that the man seemed so wont to display. A short distance away, Jane and Mr. Bingley sat talking, their heads close together. I also spied Kitty, dancing with a roguish-looking young gentleman. She smiled and laughed as much as ever, but something appeared strained in her behavior tonight; she seemed quieter without Lydia for a compatriot, having no one to flit about and giggle with between dances. So much the better, I decided.
After observing the diversions of my sisters, I turned to the next page of my book, giving my attention once again to Agamemnon and Achilles. They, at least, would not smile unctuously at me like some gentleman might do if I appeared too interested in the faces around me.
After a time, though, my mind began to wander. I tired of this place. I could not even bring myself to put my hours of practice to good use and play a song or two on the piano. The thought of what had happened the last time heated my face with embarrassment even now. I would not try again – I knew where I wasn’t wanted. I tried to keep my bitter expression off of my face, knowing that, if my mother saw it, there’d be no escaping her shrill rebuke later, telling me that sourpuss girls don’t attract husbands. If it weren’t for the dread of her piercing voice ringing in my ears, I doubted whether I would care three straws about what attracted husbands. I rested my head on the wall behind me, still perusing Homer’s words, if a bit halfheartedly.
I heard the rustle of cloth and felt the rush of air as someone suddenly sat down beside me on the empty section of my bench. I snuck what I thought was a surreptitious glance to the right, in order to learn who had so abruptly taken a seat beside me. The person must have seen it, however, because a baritone voice reached my ear a moment later.
“Forgive me, madam,” it said. “I must seem very untoward, claiming a seat in this manner, but I assure you, I would not have done so, were I not in such dire straits.” I looked up to see a fair-featured face that seemed but a few years older than my own, though his was accented by a half-smile while mine no doubt looked confused and taken aback. A pair of blue eyes looked back at me, as though their owner was waiting for me to say something, to smile charmingly perhaps, or even to scowl and tell him to be off. Still bewildered by his sudden appearance, I did neither, but rather sat up straighter and mumbled out a reply that was something to the effect of “Erm…it’s quite all right.”
He settled himself into a more comfortable position on the bench, seeming to relax a little. “I thank you. I saw this open seat and felt that serendipity had been kind to me – you see, I have been trying to escape all evening – my mother seems bent on having me stand up with a certain young lady before the night is out, and, well…” He shook his head and said no more, but I caught his meaning.
A heartbeat’s length later, he seemed to remember himself. “I’m sorry; I’ve intruded upon your privacy so rudely and haven’t even introduced myself – I’m Mr. Raleigh. Might I inquire who the gracious lady is that has allowed such forwardness?”
“I-I’m Miss Mary Bennet,” I replied, inclining my head in lieu of a curtsy.
“Ah, Miss Bennet! Of the Bennets of Longbourn?”
“Yes…” I affirmed, confused. I’d never seen nor heard of this man in my life – how did he know where I lived?
“I thought so. You seem surprised at my knowledge,” he observed. “I must entreat you to remember, Miss Bennet, that this community is not a large one. I and my family have been staying with my mother’s cousin, Lady Lucas, for a mere week, and I have already heard of the two eldest Bennet sisters, who have managed to become engaged to the most eligible men in the county. And no doubt you are equally informed as to my family’s visit to your neighbor’s home.”
“I – have heard of your family’s being here, yes,” I said, struggling to remember. I had heard my mother mention something about it to my father and Kitty, though I had been attempting to finish a particularly difficult portion of the sampler I had been embroidering at the time, and had not been attending; I couldn’t even remember whether she had mentioned the Raleigh name during her proclamation. No one had brought up the subject again, since the whirl of planning that surrounded the two incumbent weddings left time for very little else in our household, and I had forgotten about the matter entirely. In any event, I knew I ought to be polite to this young man, however strange were the circumstances of our meeting. I cast about for something to say.
“Are you enjoying your stay with the Lucases?”
“Yes, indeed,” he replied brightly. “My second cousins have been most amiable. I wonder that we have not visited before – my mother seems quite fond of Lady Lucas’ company. I myself have spent considerable time learning of the county from Sir Lucas, and he has told me about the hunting prospects in the area. I should like to return next year for the shooting; this district seems a capital place for the sport.”
I was already growing bored with this talk. Were all young men alike? He seemed to finish with this vein of conversation, and his eyes roamed a bit, landing on the book in my hand.
“I say, what is that book you’ve been reading?”
“The Iliad,” I said shortly. I was a bit embarrassed – I knew it was not considered regular to bring a book to the dance hall, but I had been unable to resist bringing this latest selection from my father’s library when I thought about the long evening of frivolity and ridiculousness ahead of me. I also knew that my ability (or perhaps my curse) of going unnoticed would serve my purpose well tonight, and no one would pay much attention to a quiet, plain girl in the back of the room. Or so I thought.
“Ah, an excellent choice.” Mr. Raleigh smiled. “I read it a few months ago, and I enjoyed it immensely.”
Perhaps all young men were not alike.
“Have they built the great wooden horse yet?” he continued.
“Wooden horse?”
“Forgive me – I see you have not yet reached that scene. I’ll say no more about it, then. But I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s quite ingenious.”
“Well then, I look forward to it,” I said, smiling. Mr. Raleigh was a singular sort of man – I was becoming almost comfortable in his presence, and I barely knew him.
“Have you read anything of interest lately?” I asked. “I am always looking for new reading material. There is no better way to broaden the mind than to read, do not you agree, Mr. Raleigh?”
“I certainly do, Miss Bennet. In fact, I just finished…”
We launched into an earnest discussion about books of all sorts; ones we had liked, ones we had hated, ones we had read again and again. Never had I met such a young man! To find a gentleman so concerned with matters of the mind and not consumed by sporting pursuits or intent on boasting constantly of his great achievements seemed to me a rare thing indeed.
After we had continued in this mode of conversation for some time, I realized with chagrin that I had occupied this man during several dances. I felt as improper as I would have if I had actually been dancing with him the entire time – how could I have spent so much time, so exclusively, with one man? I wanted to avoid vicious gossip, if I could manage it. I hastened to conclude our talk.
“I am so sorry,” I said suddenly, “I have taken up so much of your time. You should be up there, dancing, and I have bored you with my blather about books, of all things.”
Mr. Raleigh looked startled, as if he had only just realized the passing time himself.
“On the contrary, Miss Bennet, it is I who has kept you from the dancing – I hadn’t even realized how much time has passed. Do you not wish to dance as well? Why is it that you have sat alone so long?”
I flushed. I hated to reveal my status as an unwanted, unnoticed girl, especially to this amiable, fine-looking young man. But there was nothing for it – he was about to realize what a failure I was at acting as a young woman ought. But I would make my situation sound less self-disparaging, if I could.
“I must confess,” I answered, “I have no love for balls or dance halls. I feel my time is much better spent conversing than dancing, and as anyone in their right mind would rather dance at a ball than talk, I decided to use the time to improve my knowledge of classical literature, having little hope of a partner for conversation,” Or for dance, I thought to myself. “Now you see me for what I am, Mr. Raleigh – a strange girl who does not indulge in the diversions of regular society. You must think me quite improper.” My lips twisted ruefully.
Mr. Raleigh shook his head and chuckled. I thought this a strange reaction, but he replied, “Oh, Miss Bennet, I came here this evening thinking I would have to endure another night of simpering civility, and here I find a creature as like myself as any I have ever met! If I could have contrived a way of doing so without being noticed, I would have loved nothing more than to bring a book and escape inside of it as you have done. But indeed, I am glad I have not, for then we never would have become acquainted. How fortunate, then, that I am not so successful a smuggler as you!”
I laughed heartily at this. “A smuggler, am I, then? Perhaps I can begin a new profession and escape altogether!”
“Anything to get away from another odious quadrille!”
We both laughed then, and I found myself suddenly uncaring of any watching eyes. I could not remember ever having enjoyed myself so well at a ball, and was on the point of telling Mr. Raleigh as much, when a stately middle-aged woman appeared an arm’s length away from our bench. We both rose when she stopped in front of us.
“There you are!” She sounded reproachful. Since I did not know the lady, I assumed she must be addressing Mr. Raleigh. Sure enough, his head snapped up to meet her eyes, and then swiftly sank back down again to stare at his polished shoes.
“Hello, Mother.”
I felt my eyebrows raise a fraction. The lady paid me no attention, however.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Charles. What are you about?”
“I’ve been in conversation, Mother. Surely you do not expect me to dance every dance.” His tone was cajoling, and he continued, ignoring the dark look on his mother’s face.
“I must say, I’d become quite fagged; and this young lady has been so kind as to divert me with a tête-à-tête while allowing me to rest with her a while.” He graciously left out the information that I had been “resting” here for most of the evening. “Allow me to introduce Miss Bennet of Longbourn to you. Miss Bennet, this is my mother, Lady Raleigh.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Raleigh.” I gave as good a curtsy as I could muster in the cramped space – and in spite of my unease.
“Charming,” Lady Raleigh said quickly, bowing shortly and then turning again to her son.“I do not expect you to dance every dance, Charles, but I do expect you to show proper attentions to whom you should.” She looked at him pointedly.
He looked back at her, a contrite expression on his open face. “I am sorry, Mother. I do not intend to be disrespectful. I will stand up for the next dance, depend upon it.”
“Good. See that you do.” She swept away.
“I am sorry, Miss Bennet; my mother…”
I stopped him. “Do not trouble yourself, Mr. Raleigh. Let us count ourselves fortunate that it was your mother and not mine that approached us.” I smiled wryly. He looked confused, but made no further mention on the subject, instead surprising me by saying, “Well, Miss Bennet, it seems the floor can no longer spare me – though it is not a favorite activity for either of us, would you honor me with the next dance? We’d better do our duty to the floorboards before tongues start wagging about our laziness.”
I blushed suddenly – I could not seem to keep from doing so tonight.
“O-of course, Mr. Raleigh; I would be delighted, believe it or not,” I said, laughing.
“Excellent!”
We were standing up together before I knew it. I caught a glimpse of Kitty’s bewildered face just as the band began to play. To see her staid sister standing up to dance a spirited set with someone she barely knew was no doubt quite shocking to Kitty. I smiled. Let her think what she would. I was not sorry.
The dance was a complicated, vigorous one, and we couldn’t spend much time talking, but we did smile at one another throughout the set, and I wondered at the change in myself. No doubt my sense would return later, and I would wonder what I had been thinking. But for now, I was simply another girl, enjoying herself at the dance hall the way any young lady would. And that in itself was something noteworthy.
After the dance was over and we bowed to each other, I knew it was time for us to part; we had gambled enough with the possible loss of propriety as it was. As we melted back into the crowd, I told him I must take leave of him, though really, I knew the reverse was true. He evidently had more expectations placed upon him than I.
“Very well; I will leave you now, Miss Bennet. We don’t want to risk any more talk than we already have done. But I must ask you, may I call upon you at your home? I would dearly love to continue our conversation in a place that is not so noisy. May I visit you?”
“Of course.” We parted with a smile, and I wondered at the joy that rose inside of me.
During the carriage ride back home that night, as my mother chattered away and Kitty answered her vaguely from time to time, I smiled to myself as I remembered the dance with more happiness than any other before it.
End Part One
 Unique visitors to post: 5
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter twelve
First morning
 I opened my eyes and I saw the bright light of day. I had had a good night sleep. Great even. I looked at where Christopher was sleeping and he wasn’t there. I left my bed, freshened up and left the room. I found the old couple setting by the fire, talking.
“Good morning” I said
“Good morning! It’s noon already dear, even later than that” the woman told me.
“Really, oh… I’m sorry”
“Sorry! Sorry for what?”
“I will do the work now I promise”
“Oh you don’t have to worry yourself about that, your husband is taking excellent care of everything around here, he even prepared our breakfast in the morning”
“He did?” I couldn’t help but admire him for that.
“Where is he?”
“He’s out in the garden”
I walked towards the door but I was called back by the lady of the house.
“You should get something to eat first, you must be hungry”
“I am, but I’ll come back and eat, I just want to check on my hus… my husband”
“Go ahead dear”
I walked out and it wasn’t hard to find him, big as he was in a small garden.
“Hello there, did you sleep well?” he shouted as soon as he saw me.
“Yes, yes I did thank you”
He was just sitting, doing nothing.
“So, are you done, you seem to be doing nothing”
“Yes, I finished few minutes ago. I guess that’s it for today”
“This is really embarrassing”
“What is?”
“I woke up at the end of the day… you finished all the work while I was asleep”
“You earned it, our journey must have been allot for you and…”
“Yes, but you woke up early and I was the one who took the bed, my god it is embarrassing and I really wanted to do something here, make myself useful”
“No work for you”
“What? No, of course not, I will work”
“No you won’t”
“What are you my father?”
“No, I’m your hus…” Christopher hesitated and we both fell into awkward silence once more. He suddenly chuckled.
“What, what is it?”
“We can’t seem to have a normal and quiet conversation ever; every time we talk about anything we start fighting”
“And you find that funny?!”
“Yes actually I do”
“Ok, I have to admit, it is a bit funny” I said chuckling. Christopher broke the silence by saying.
“There really isn’t any need for you to work, I can handle it… I’m strong and I’m used to labour”
“I know that but I really want to work, it will… get my mind off… things” and by things I meant the disappearance of my parents and I believe that Christopher understood that without me saying it clearly.
“Ok then, as you like, you can work but…”
“No buts, I will work with you and I will help, I can do it. I’m not as weak and fragile as you think”
He looked at me for a while, smiled and said “Ok, but I’m still waiting for that punch, till then I will keep considering you weak and fragile”
“Ok, suit yourself”
“Let’s get inside now, it’s getting cold”
He stood up and helped me stand and we walked towards the house.
“You’re really a heavy sleeper”
“I am?” I asked.
“Yes you are, I moved around you, we moved in the house, talked, made noises, everything and you never woke up”
“I’m blessed in that way I guess”
“Yes, I guess you are”
We got inside the house. We had lunch, breakfast for me. We had some tea as well and then it was time for us to go to bed.
I went with Christopher to the room and I sat down on the bed for a moment, he laid on his blankets.
“You know what; take the bed, just for now I’m not sleepy yet”
He looked at me again smiling one of his making fun of me smiles and closed his eyes.
I could tell from his eyes that it was hopeless and that he would never agree on taking the bed and that was kind of nice, to know that he really wanted me to be rested but it was also bad because it bothered me allot to see him on the ground like that every night, he deserves better.
I laid in bed and closed my eyes for a long time but it was useless, I was unable to sleep. I think I had enough sleep for more than one day.
I heard some noise in the living room, I walked to the door and opened it and a thread of light shined through. I looked back at Christopher and he was sound asleep.
I looked out the door and I found the old man preparing something on the fire. I left the room and closed the door behind me.
“Oh, I’m sorry I woke you up” the old man whispered.
“No, no you didn’t wake me up I just couldn’t sleep, may I join you?”
“Sure, please do, I could use some company”
I noticed that he was preparing tea.
“Here, let me finish this” I said taking the put off his hands.
“Thank you, that’s awfully nice of you” he whispered and sat on a chair beside the fire as usual.
I handed him a cup of tea and got one for myself and sat next to him.
“Weird time we live in” he whispered and I looked at him with inquisitive eyes.
“You live with us and we have you in our house and we don’t know your last names, you don’t know our’s, you don’t even know our first names, isn’t that funny?”
It didn’t cross my mind before, what the old man said but now that he said it I recognised how funny it is, and how in normal days such a thing would never happen.
“Yes, I guess that’s what happens in war” I commented.
“Yes, war, war is a fickle thing… if it doesn’t kill you, it keeps you alive to witness the misery and the death of those whom you love most in this world… and none of the two is less evil than the other”.
I looked at him again curious, he paused and looked at me for a second and then continued.
“My name is Arthur and my wife’s name is Gabriele, and we’re the Schelldens”
“Nice to meet you Mr. Schellden”
“And nice to meet you Mrs….” He was waiting for me to continue and for a moment I was about to say my real last name “Kenward”. It took me a long while to think about what I should say, my real last name, my fake one, my husband’s last name. Yes that’s it, my husband’s last name. Oh god I couldn’t remember it.
“You don’t know your last name?” Mr Schellden joked giggling.
“Of course I do” I replied with a smile and nervous voice. “I just find it hard to decide which one to use, Christopher’s or mine. I’m still not used to the idea of sharing the same last name with him”
“You can tell me any of them or maybe both if you want”
“It’s Halding, would you like more tea?” I said trying to distract him. I’m an idiot, I forgot Christopher’s last name, I just couldn’t remember it although he said it and wrote it down on our marriage certificate.
“Yes please” Mr. Schellden replied and my plan was successful; he forgot all about last names. I poured him and myself another cup and got back to my chair to continue our conversation.
“I had a son” Mr. Schellden whispered in a very obvious sad tone. Had, he said had.
I kept silent waiting for him to speak on his own time.
“He was my only child, well, he had a twin sister but she died as soon as she left her mother’s whom as if she couldn’t stand this world. She knew it wasn’t worth it, she lived happily and safely, protected and sheltered inside her mother for nine months and that was enough for her”
“I’m sorry; it must have been very hard for you and especially for Mrs. Schellden”
“It was… it was very hard for her; she spent months and months of painful and fatal mourning. She never left her room, just took care of Morton, sang to him, fed him, and of course cried all along. It was very painful for me to see her like that and I tried to help her but she just shut down but then one day when I started losing hope of retrieving the life I had with my wife she just came out of the room and decided that we all should go out on a picnic, I was hysterically happy… she got better and better with time but she never completely healed nor I” he paused again and I could see tears filling his eyes. I kept silent, waiting for him to continue and he did.
“You can get over everything, but not the loss of your child. That, you can never really forget or make peace with it, ever”
His words made me feel very sad. They made me remember my parents, how much they loved me and how awful they must be feeling now wherever they are.
“And your son, what happened to him?”
“Morton was our life, he was everything. We loved him and he loved us and took care of us when we were no longer able to take care of him. When this… war started, when the Normans first attacked England we started hearing about the battles and killings, Morton couldn’t just stay in his peaceful village and ignore the rest of the people. He loved people and cared about them and he really wanted to help them. He was determined to leave and so he did. We tried to talk him out of it but he refused”
“How brave and courageous; you must be proud of him”
“We are we are very proud of him”
“How do you know that…?”
“That he’s dead?” the old man continued my question and I nodded.
“We received word. They send lists of names of people who died and he was on that list”
“Mr Schellden I’m… I’m really sorry”
“I am too”
“Arthur” Mrs Schellden called from her room.
“Yes darling, I’m coming” her husband replied. “I’d better go, she sometimes gets scared at night” he whispered to me. “Thanks for the tea and the company” he said leaving.
“Thank you Mr Schellden… for everything”
“Oh, please call me Arthur”
“Alright then, thank you Arthur” although it was hard for me to call him as casually and informally as that, being even older than my father but I said it for the first and last time as I got back to “Mr. Schellden” in the next morning.
He smiled a very warm and loving smile and said “goodnight” and left.
I was alone beside the fire, still not sleepy but I had to leave and try to sleep to stop the distressing thoughts that were visiting me. I entered the room and Christopher was sleeping in his usual place. I tried not to make a sound. I laid in the bed, my bed, for now at least and I finally was able to sleep.
Unique visitors to post: 6
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter eleven
Drift of air
Christopher left his chair as soon as we were excused; he walked towards the room and entered while I stayed in my chair as if I was glued to it.
“Go on dear, you must be really tired, go and join your husband” The old lady advised me kindly.
“Are you sure, I mean is there anything I can help you with before I go?”
“We can’t possibly ask you to start working right away… have your rest, you deserve it”
“I’m not tired really, I can work” I lied.
The old couple chuckled and looked at each other, and then the old man looked at me and said.
“There is no work now, it’s night time already, but if you’re not tired you’re welcome to join us for tea, my wife here makes the most delicious tea you’ll ever taste” he looked at his life companion smiling and I could sense the flows of love he had in his heart for her, it made me remember my parents and how they loved each other. I want them back; I want to be with them again, I have to find them.
I accepted their invitation for tea of course as I was really nervous about being with Christopher in one small room alone. I just thought it would be really awkward and embarrassing, what would we talk about, where would we sit, sleep, and what will we talk about, especially now that we’re married, oh my god I still can’t believe we’re married and just how will it work?
I was sitting with them, sipping my tea and listening to their soothing voices chatting and giggling which made me even more tired and sleepy than ever. The sound and warmth of the fire was irresistible. The comfort of being in a safe place inside a house, amongst good people, rather than alone in some strange and scary forest hiding from potent and hurtful strangers was attracting sleep. I must have blacked out for a while because the next thing I felt was a drift of air playing with my hair while being sheltered in big arms, familiar arms, ones that I’ve grown to know and… … like. That drift of air that touched my face and played with my hair as soon as I was lifted up and out of the chair was warm, Christopher’s body was warm, and I was warm for the first time in a long time.
I heard the old couple whispering and I saw glimpses of images. My god I was really tired and sleepy and… numb, I was numb.
“You used to carry me like that” whispered the old lady to her husband with a sigh.
“I still do” he replied.
“No you don’t darling”
“Ok, I will now” he said
“No, wait, don’t, you’ll break something silly old man” the woman cried with laughter fading away as they went to their bedroom.
“Put me down, I can manage” I whispered.
“Sure you can” Christopher replied.
“Come on just put me down, I’m not a child” I insisted.
“Ok, ok, there you go” he said and laid me down on a fluffy bed.
“Don’t do that Christopher, I’m not…”
“Do you have to make a fuss about everything?” he sounded very firm that I stopped talking and silence occupied the room for a moment then I whispered.
“Thank you”
“You don’t have to thank me Abigail, for anything… just”
“Now who’s making the fuss? Just accept the thanks, say I’m welcome and that’s it, it’s very simple”
“You’re welcome” he said with a glimpse of smile on his face.
The sleepiness I was feeling disappeared or at least was reduced for a while. I sat up in the bed, I looked around. The room was very nice and simple; just a bed with two small tables on each side. Christopher was lying on the ground on few thin white sheets.
“Why do I get to take the bed?” I whispered.
“What?” Christopher sat up and looked at me.
“I said why do I get to take the bed?”
“I can’t sleep on beds, they scare me somehow, that’s why it’s yours”
“No really, it’s not fair to you, just because I’m a woman it doesn’t mean I get to…”
“It does in my world… it is simply out of the question so drop it. There is nothing you can do or say that will change it”
“My god, do you always have to be so… so tough and fierce. I know you’re not all bad so drop the act, you don’t scare me”
“I don’t mean to scare you I just…”
“Good, because you don’t, maybe at the beginning I was scared of you but not anymore”
“Great”
“Seriously about the bed though…” I continued.
“Good night” said Christopher and it was silent again. I started to get sleepy again but I couldn’t help but think about the conversation we just had. The old couple must think that we are sleeping comfortably beside each other, in each other’s arms even. they must think that we would be making love passionately as any husband and wife would do on their wedding night but we weren’t.
I had so much respect for Christopher. He gave up the bed for me, he didn’t even try to sleep next to me, he didn’t try or even ask. He acted like a true gentleman… at least in this matter. I really felt bad for being in such a comfy bed, watching Christopher sleeping on the hard ground with very few and very, very thin blankets under him but there was nothing I could do other than watching him sleep like a baby. It was always surprising to me how easily and quickly he was always able to fall asleep.
Unique visitors to post: 7
Author: Luce, luce@justperioddrama.com
Chapter 5 – In dire straits
“Mr. Mason!”, I exclaimed, shocked by the vicious tone of the words uttered by Bertha’s brother Richard.
“Ah! The faithful yet wayward governess has finally found her match! You always were his most ardent supporter, were you not, Miss Eyre? You obeyed his tiniest command and worked yourself into exhaustion covering up his wicked deeds.”
Mason came nearer to where we stood, hand in hand. Only now I took notice of Edward when his hand pressed mine like a vice! His face was ashen, his lips were grey and in his eyes I saw an expression of the fiercest horror!
“Dearest, what is it?”, I urged, turning towards him, “Are you unwell? Shall I go and …”
“You, Mrs. Rochester, are not going anywhere!”, rasped the angry voice of Mason, putting a stress on my name that sent shivers of fear down my spine. Before I could do anything, he grasped my wrist and tore me away from Edward who did not seem to notice. His blind gaze was staring into nothing and had the same horrified expression as before. What was wrong with him? Never had I seen him like this!
Mason’s arm came up around my neck and the cold barrel of a firearm was pressed against my temple.
“The time has come, Rochester, for you to atone for what you have done. Ha! Is it not cruel irony that you should return to the very place of your crime, only to suffer the same fate as Bertha in just a moment of time? Here you are, triumphantly showing your new whore around where your wife, my precious sister, came to her end when you pushed her to her death? How relieved you must have felt when, finally, you had a chance of ridding yourself of her, poor, lost soul that she was? All your troubles over and you free to marry again, was that what you were thinking, when, instead of pulling Bertha back to safety, you gave her the last shove over the edge?”
“There was nobody to see! You were not here! You can’t …”, Edward shouted, his voice giving way with despair.
In growing horror I heard this words and realised what they meant! Edward had thought himself alone at Thornfield Hall when Bertha died!
“Ah, yes! You thought yourself clever, sending the servants away, didn’t you? First you set fire to the Hall and then you dragged Bertha out of her room onto the roof and pushed her over the edge! I know, Rochester, because I saw you!”
Edward staggered back as if he’d received a blow. His cane fell to the ruined tiles of the hall and rolled away to disappear into a crack where the floor had caved in. Underneath the hall lay the vast cellars, as I recalled. In rising alarm I noticed that Edward was disorientated. Without his cane he was unable to feel his whereabouts. I saw him venture a few paces to the left but he stumbled when his feet encountered debris.
“Edward, stay where you are! There’s a …”
I couldn’t finish my sentence because Mason suddenly wrung my arm up behind my back. A sharp shot of fierce pain raked my shoulder and it was all I could do not to cry out.
“Jane? Jane, where are you? I … come back to me …”, Edward pleaded, trying to feel his surroundings with both arms outstretched.
“I have her, you murderer! She has my gun to her head and if you take another step, I’ll kill her!”
Edward swung round towards where Mason’s voice had come from.
“Edward, no!”, I shouted, when he swiftly approached us.
I was too late in warning him! To my abhorrence Mason fired his gun and Edward reeled under the impact. He fell backwards, the floor collapsed under him and he disappeared into the hole. A loud crush reached my shocked ears and, as I knew the cellar bottom was at least five meters below ground level, I feared for Edward’s very life! An unknown force made me wrench myself out of Mason’s grasp and I flung myself onto my stomach and peered over the hole’s edge. Edward lay on his back, arms and legs sprawled, covered by bricks and wood, and a large stain of blood was spreading over his chest in the buff coloured coat!
“Edward! Edward, talk to me! Please, my love, please?”
I was now frantically looking for a way to get down there, I had to help him! The thought of losing him was unbearable! My heart was pounding so painfully, deep within my chest, that it felt like being stabbed by a spear! In despair I glanced around and … to my astonishment, I was alone, Mason had gone.
Somehow that made me come to my senses again.
In the hole where my wounded husband lay, there was an kind of slope, formed by the falling of the debris. Still shaky in the legs, I ventured to climb down on it, careful as not to twist my foot and fall.
My breath now working painfully in my lungs, I began examining Edward.
The bullet had struck him in the left upper arm but it had damaged an artery, from which the blood spurted onto his chest in pulsing jets. As quickly as I could, I attempted to apply a tourniquet made from one of my stockings and a piece of wood. To my immense relief I succeeded in diminishing the blood spurt into a trickle and I bandaged it as firmly as I could with my handkerchief and my other stocking.
“Sir … Ma’am … are you there? Sir, the hour upon which we agreed has passed and …”
The groom! Thank God!
“Mister Keithley, down here! We’re in the cellars! Come quickly! The master is hurt!”
Never had I been more relieved to see the benign face of the man peer over the edge of the hole.
“Madam! What …”
“Please, Mr. Keithley, go back to Ferndean and get help! My husband is badly wounded. I’ll stay here, with him. Fast, Mr. Keithley?”
“Aye, Ma’am, don’t fret, I’ll be back soon!”
The following hours passed dreamlike and unreal to me.
Our servants and a few of our tenants came and between them they managed to get Edward out of the cellar. On the way home in our curricle I held his head on my lap. He was unconscious and very pale and by times, he shivered in spasms, although I had him tightly tucked in blankets. All the time my anxiety grew stronger and stronger that he might be seriously hurt.
At the house they carried him to our bedchamber where I washed and nursed him with the help of our doctor, Philip Woodhouse. The lines of worry on the face of the good doctor were deep.
“I do not like this deep unconsciousness, Mrs. Rochester,” he said, “he has suffered a severe concussion but he should have become awake by now. His arm wound is serious but I managed to bind off the damaged artery and it should heal in time. You must keep him warm and try to give him some water from time to time. It is possible that he goes into fever so when that happens, call for me immediately. I shall return twice each day to check on him.”
Dr. Woodhouse left and there I was, married for one day, and my dear Edward in the clutches of death!
Author: Luce
luce@justperioddrama.com
From next week on, I’ll be posting on Thursdays and Fridays.
Thank you for reading!
Unique visitors to post: 9
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter ten
Hard
“I, Christopher, take thee Abigail, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; and I promise to be faithful to you until death parts us”
Christopher repeated the wedding vows very quickly, easily and confidently after the parson. When it was my turn to repeat the same vows, I was no where near Christopher’s manner of saying them.
“I, Abigail, take thee Christopher, to be my… … husband… to have and to hold from this day… … … forward, for better, or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to… … … … … love and to… cherish, and I… I… …”
“Come on, say it, just say it” Whispered Christopher. The parson looked at me in surprise and worry and then glanced at Christopher; his looks were full of questions so I had to avoid that and just continue although it was very hard for me to say these vows in a church in front of the parson knowing that it’s all a lie. I was laying to the parson, to myself and to god and that was really hard but again I was forced to do it.
“And I… promise… … to be faithful to you until… … death… parts us”
After a moment of silence the parson pronounced us husband and wife.
It was over. Christopher and I were officially husband and wife. A tear fell down my cheek and I felt as if all the blood had abandoned my face. A hand washed away that tear and brought back the blood to my face. I lifted up my eyes and saw the parson’s face looking at me with a warmest smile.
“Don’t worry child, it’s all going to be fine” he whispered.
I couldn’t help myself; I suddenly threw myself in his arms and hugged him tightly.
“Thank you father” I whispered.
I looked at Christopher and he was looking at me smiling. I let go of the parson and thanked him again and joined Christopher. We took our papers and headed to the village.
“Thank god we remembered to change your last name” Christopher started talking
“It would have been a huge problem if you said your real name, good thing you let me do the talking” he continued. He was talking allot and he seemed pleased for some reason. I was very quiet.
“And what was that about, it sure took you a long time to say the vows” he chuckled. “How flattering, I’m that hard to marry huh?” he kept talking and I kept silent.
“Don’t forget; never use your real last name, ok? It would be a problem, being the Sheriff’s daughter is dangerous” I kept silent.
“Abigail, do you hear me, did you hear what I said?”
“What? Yes, yes, don’t worry”
“Then give me a reason not to… you don’t look well… you seem to be absent minded”
“I will use my real last name, I got it”
“Oh god…” He started.
“I’m kidding, I‘m not stupid, just relax, will you?”
“I thought you said they don’t care about names in this church, and that they marry whoever wants to marry”
“Yes, so?”
“Why would it have been so dangerous if I said my real name?”
“I said that they don’t check the names you give them, they don’t really focus on that issue, but that doesn’t mean that they… ignore obvious lies”
“Ok, whatever”
Christopher looked at me for a while and then got back to talking again. I wasn’t listening to him most of the time. I was just thinking about what happened, how I married him and how I was ignorant of what was to come.
We finally arrived at the promised village. We were confronted with soldiers at its borders.
“Your papers” one of them said in a firm voice.
We showed him and thank god we were able to pass without any problems. My heart almost fled my chest when the soldier took a scrutinising look at me, but then I was relieved when he gave us back our papers and said “Proceed”.
Christopher took a piece of paper out of his pocket, looked at it for a while and then put it back in his pocket. We walked around, but we tried to stay shaded and quiet as we didn’t want any problems with the soldiers who were spread all around the village.
We knocked on so many doors asking if they need any help, anyone to work for them but we failed, no one was looking for help. It seemed like everyone was just content with what they had. They got all what they needed and they couldn’t afford any additions. We continued the search as we had no other choice. We had to find work and shelter.
“Let’s go there” said Christopher pointing at a small old house.
“There. It looks hardly enough to fit its residents”
“Let’s just try, we have nothing to lose”
“Ok” I said and followed.
We knocked at the door.
“Can I help you?” an old man asked in a frail voice.
“Excuse me sir, we are looking for work, and shelter, is there anything you need? I can do everything” Christopher told the old man.
“Good for you son, I used to do everything, in the old… very old days”
“Will you give us work and a place to sleep in?” Christopher asked impatiently.
“Come in, come in” The old man invited us.
We entered the house, and there was an old woman sitting by the fire alone. The house was very old and shabby inside. The furniture was antique and there was hardly enough space to fit it all inside the house.
“Hello and welcome” the old woman whispered and stood up to greet us without questioning who we were and why we got in.
“Have a seat please” she said politely.
We sat down. They offered us food and drink; water, tea, bread and some cheese. I couldn’t believe how nice they were. I was very thankful to them even if they don’t give us work, they would still be very nice, the nicest people I’ve met ever since I lost my parents, except for the parson of course. They were the only people to give us a chance to speak to them and explain our situation, let us in and offer us food. I was already attached to them.
“So you’re in love aren’t you?” The old woman asked after we’ve eaten.
“Yes we are” Answered Christopher quickly and looked at me. I looked at him and then at the woman with inquisitive eyes.
“I knew it” she said chuckling. “No one looks at a woman that way unless he loved her. Oh… young love, it is the sweetest and purest thing in the world” she continued.
I blushed and didn’t look at Christopher for the next hour or so. Although I knew that the old woman’s assumption was wrong I was still embarrassed.
“We got married today” Said Christopher.
“Oh, congratulations”
“We really need this job and a place to stay, we have nowhere else to go, you know how it is in most England”
“We have an empty room” The old man said glancing at a small room with a partially open door. I looked at the same direction his eyes were headed and then asked.
“So you’re accepting us to work and live with you?”
“Yes sure, we’re old and… tired, we could sure use some help” the old man answered.
“And some company” the old woman continued.
I grinned and said.
“Thank you so much, you don’t know how much you’re helping us. I kicked Christopher with my elbow; he immediately understood me and thanked them.
“I’ll do everything you need to be done” said Christopher
“There’s nothing much son, just milking the cow, cutting firewood and carrying it, and taking care of the small garden” answered the old man.
“I’m Christopher, and this is Abigail” Christopher said and stood up and offered his hand to shake the man’s.
“Sit down son” The old man took Christopher’s hand and pulled him down.
“Do you trust us, as simple as that?” I asked curiously
“Sure” said the old woman. “I can tell good people from bad just by their faces” she continued smiling. “And you strike me as good, no, excellent people”
“Thank you so much, I feel the same way about you” I said and after a while they excused us to go have some rest in our room. Christopher and I were supposed to go sleep in that small room with one bed. I didn’t even know how to feel about that.
Unique visitors to post: 8
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter nine
Apologies
We started our inevitable journey towards the church. It was such a comfort and a great feeling to be in a quiet and peaceful place again. I felt safe. For the first time in a long time I was walking without looking around or behind my shoulders. Without having the feeling that someone is watching me, watching us and trying to capture us. Christopher was whistling, and walking quickly. He was few steps ahead of me; no matter how hard I tried to catch up with him it was simply impossible.
I looked at him and I suddenly felt bad about slapping him. It was a really bad reception. He came back with food and clothes, comfort and tenderness and I met him with a horrible and sudden slap.
“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry about…”
“It didn’t hurt” Christopher interrupted.
“What?!”
“You’re apologizing for slapping me aren’t you?”
“Yes”
“There is no need; it didn’t hurt, so… you really don’t have to apologize”
“Oh, I see, ok then” The regret I felt was suddenly replaced by anger and vexation.
“Actually it made me even more worried about you, about your safety. Is that the best you can do?”
“What do you mean?”
“You wanted to slap me, and you were really, I mean really angry, and that’s the worst damage you can cause?”
“No… I didn’t want to cause damage, I just…”
“Yes, right, ok then, show me” he came and stood in front of me.
“What do you mean show me?”
“Hit me, cause damage”
“Are you insane?”
“No, maybe… come on, just practise on me”
“I am not going to practise on you, thank you”
“Come on, what is it, are you afraid?”
“No I’m not afraid, I just…”
“You’re just…”
“I just think it’s insane, and I‘m too sane to do it”
“Oh, I see…” he took few steps back with a teasing smile shining on his face, and narrowing his eyes.
“What is that supposed to mean… you don’t believe me?”
“Hmmm”
“I’m… I’m strong, and I can cause damage when I mean to”
“If you say so”
“Ok, I’ll show you”
“Great” he came and stood in front of me and looked into my eyes, I hesitated for a while; he grabbed my hand and curled my fingers to make it into a fist.
“Come on, do it”
I looked into his eyes for a while, his eyes changed, they suddenly became wider and thriving and it made me nervous. I put my fist down, and I walked back.
“I’m not going to do it, I won’t listen to you. I’ll prove my strength in another way, one day”
“Ok, as you wish… coward”
“Call me whatever you want, tease me but I will not listen to you”
We finally arrived to the church. We got inside and there was few people sitting, praying; old woman, two young men, and three couples who seemed to be there for the same reason we were; Marrying. But I wasn’t sure if they were marrying for love or for the same reason Christopher and I had.
The parson was an old man, with a kind face. He was tall, strong built, looked like he had a great and strong youth. He had thick white hair and blue eyes, narrow nose and red cheeks. The shape of his mouth was lined up with a greyish moustache and a beard. His voice was strong and deep. His smile was good and comforting. He didn’t resemble my father who is a medium sized man, with green eyes, and blond hair with few stripes of white. But he was in a way a father figure, someone whom you feel safe being with, whom you love and cherish. I wanted to stay around him and talk to him but he was busy with people and he had couples to marry. I had to be patient and wait for my turn to talk to him and be close to him and sense the feeling of security he radiates. Christopher and I sat down on one of the desks waiting. Christopher covered his eyes with his palms and leaned on the desk. I looked at him and felt anxious. I wanted to ask him what was on his mind, why he looked worried and… sad, but I didn’t. I just kept silent and kept watching the people around me praying; some crying and some smiling. Some looked content and some looked disparate. I looked at those who were content and I envied them, I wondered what can it possibly be that is making them feel that way, how can they feel this way during these times? I looked at those who were in despair and I related to their sentiments. I guess I felt lucky in a way because I was somewhere in the middle. I wasn’t in total despair, I still had faith that I will find my parents and that I will once again experience the life I once had. But also I wasn’t totally content; so many things prevented my feeling that way.
My thoughts were interrupted by the nod from the parson. It was our turn, I looked at Christopher and he was still leaning on the desk, covering his eyes. I poked him.
“Come on, let’s go” I whispered and started getting up but I was brought back to the chair when Christopher looked at me, held my arm gently with his hand and whispered. “I’m sorry Abigail”
“For what?” I asked.
“For this, for how things happened, for… everything”
I looked at him for a moment and then said.
“It’s not your fault Christopher, if anything you helped me, you protected me and… saved my life and I appreciate that… now let’s go and get this over with please”
I stood up and walked towards the parson and Christopher followed after a moment.
Unique visitors to post: 7
Author: Luce, luce@justperioddrama.com
Chapter 4 – Ghosts from the past
A stray ray of sunshine through a gap in the curtains woke me up at dawn and first, I was disorientated by my surroundings. A most peculiar sound, one I was not accustomed to, startled me; cuddled up against me, my Edward, though still sleeping, had taken full possession of me. One arm and one leg, both naked, were wrapped around me and he was softly snoring.
My heart leapt at the sight of him; he had thrown away the covers, allowing me to admire the view of his magnificent bare chest. The burn marks were clearly visible in the harsh light of dawn, yet it did not lessen his appearance. They only enhanced the tone of his muscles and the width of his shoulders. My gaze wandered towards his firm buttocks, over his mighty thighs and reached his awesome manhood, still impressive even in repose.
I felt the heated stirrings coming to life deep in my body; desire, lush and tangible, washed over me so violently, that I suddenly trembled. Carefully, for I did not want to wake him, I slipped from under Edward’s body and propped myself up on one elbow. He shifted and his leg moved from mine, displaying the whole of his body to me now. My breath caught.
What, I wondered, must a woman do when the sight of her naked husband arouses her?
Was I to keep quiet and suffer in immobility? Must I try and seek sleep again, secretly hoping for him to wake? Or, must I try and waken him, seduce him out of sleep with light yet urgent caresses?
Unable to keep myself from touching him, I slid a trembling hand over his heavy, dark curls. His left cheek rested upon the pillow and I could only see the unharmed side of his face. I brushed his brow and jaw with feathery fingers and let my hand slide down to his shoulder and arm, revelling in the feeling of the hard muscles. Over the length of his back my hand travelled down to his buttocks and thighs, venturing towards his manhood. Its smoothness astonished me deeply; the velvety skin was like silk under my fingers.
Suddenly I jumped! The object of my admiration suddenly changed in appearance and Edward’s baritone voice murmured:
“Give me a second, Jane, and I will soon be ready for you …”
All of a sudden he slipped an arm under me, gripped my waist in both hands and lifted me onto his body. I found myself straddling him and gasped at the wonderful excitement this induced.
“Look what you do to me, you adorable little witch!”
Without a warning he heaved me onto his splendid arousal. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before! Being placed on top of him seemed to heighten the sensitivity of my womanly places to the extreme! I closed my eyes so I could savour this new and very agreeable feeling.
“Do you like this, Jane?,” Edward’s husky voice interrupted, “And this, my love, how do you like this?”
His hands cupped my breasts and his thumbs rubbed the hard peaks!
A flame of sudden desire overwhelmed me and instinctively I started to move my pelvis up and down his manhood. Oh God! Oh sweet Lord! My breath seemed to be cut off and my heart stopped!
“Jane … oh, Jane, do not stop! Whatever you do, do not stop!”
My own arousal was now increasing so rapidly I could not have stopped for the life of me! Along with my rising pleasure I was immensely thrilled by the knowledge of my own power over my husband. He wanted me to continue, he liked what I was doing!
His hands travelled quickly up and down my body, from my tingling breasts and nipples to my stomach and thighs. I staggered and had to steady myself by gripping his shoulders. This position only strengthened the already powerful sensations, now rippling through me like a fever! I toppled over into delight so violently I thought my heart would never recover!
Edward’s loud cry of release was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. His hands were buried in the soft flesh of my waist and he was shaking uncontrollably in the aftershocks of his climax.
“Oh Jane, look what you do to me, you wicked, sensual, sweet witch … my own … my very own witch …”
It was early afternoon when we finally woke up.
Never in my whole life had this happened to me and I sat up with a gasp when I saw the hour on the little Ormolu clock on my nightstand. Two strong arms pulled me back and Edward mischievously chuckled in my ear:
“Where do you think you’re going, Jane?”
“Edward, it’s three o’clock! I can’t imagine what people will think of us and …”
“People can go to hell as far as I am concerned, my little swallow! I must have you shackled onto me at all times or you might escape me once again.”
Mirth and mayhem were so evident in his rumbling voice that I couldn’t help myself bursting into laughter.
“If you think of keeping me under your thumb, Edward Rochester, then you can think again! I refuse to be at your beck and call all day, I’ve a household to run and …”
All at once I was captured fast and hard and pinned on top of him.
“Jane, Jane, how good it is to hear you laugh, to hold you, to … to love you, dearest, sweetest Jane! I knew you’d do me good, I knew it from the first time I set eyes on you!”
We kissed … and made love again.
When we finally got up and dressed, Edward had a few things in store for me.
“Jane, put on your … coat, bonnet, or whatever it is you females wear and come with me.”
I did so, curious about what he was up to, and found myself dragged away to the stables. Edward must know his way around Ferndean very well for he managed to reach the back of the house solely by searching his way with his cane. His groom was waiting for us, beaming with pride and some secret pleasure. I soon saw why.
An adorable little curricle, brand-new and shining, awaited me.
“Oh! Edward, you bought us a new carriage?”
“Not “us”, darling, this is your own, personal curricle! I want you to master the art of driving it, so we can go on trips around the country side together. I can’t ride any more, remember? Now, tell me, do you like it?”
I was overwhelmed and tears pricked but I swallowed them quickly. It would not do should I disgrace myself in front of the groom.
“Yes, of course, Edward, I simply adore it! It’s so beautiful, thank you!”
And then I did disgrace myself and flung my arms around him, hugging him fiercely!
“Yes, yes, I know, I’m the best!”, he mocked, “Now, come on, Keithley here will drive us. I want you to do something!”
We were driven to the ruin of Thornfield Hall and the sight of its ragged remains, its blackened stones and hollow, empty windows tore at my very heart. This was the place where I had been the happiest woman on earth!
“Now, Jane,” Edward said, while we alighted, “I want you to take me inside and describe what you see to me. I have to know what can be done to restore it. This is my ancestral home and the place where my children will be born and raised. Keithley, take the horse for a drive and come back to collect us in an hour!”
“Very good, sir!”, the groom answered and left with the curricle.
My heart pounded with fear of what I might discover within the poor burned wreck of a house as I guided my husband inside. As we went on through the remains of the hall, the drawing room and library, the dining room and kitchens, I did as Edward wanted; I recounted what I was seeing.
The place was thoroughly damaged.
“Edward, I’m no expert on this! Surely you need an architect to establish the right appraisal of the building?”
He squeezed my hand in an affectionate manner.
“I will, Jane, rested assured. I wanted you to talk about what you see because I know you’ll be telling the truth. Impressions, Jane, feelings, thoughts, that’s what I wanted and you did well.”
He kissed me lightly on the cheek and we were about to proceed when suddenly the figure of a man blocked our way-out effectively.
“So it is true what people say about murderers after all! They do tend to return to the place of their crimes!”
Author: Luce, luce@justperioddrama.com
Unique visitors to post: 12
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter eight
The last night
Please god help me, please be with me, please let my death be quick and easy, please, please god let me join my parents in peace. I couldn’t stop praying, and I couldn’t breath. I was scared to death and the strange footsteps were the cause of my feeling that way.
“I would never hurt you” A familiar voice sounded in the strange forest. These warm words were followed by a warm touch. Warm and gentle hands removed my hands from my eyes, freeing them from darkness. I opened my eyes wide, and saw that newly familiar face looking at me with warm eyes and that familiar voice repeated. “I would never hurt you, don’t you know that yet?”
All that fear was replaced with new feelings, new and confused feelings. I was happy, relieved, safe, and… I was… I felt… I felt angry, suddenly the anger that filled inside me was as potent as that fear and I unconsciously slapped Christopher as strong as I could manage. He stood up and walked few steps away in surprise.
“What is it, what was that for?” he asked in a confused tone.
“How could you leave me, how could you?”
“I’m… I’m sorry… I was just…”
“No, no, don’t try to make it sound better or less awful than it is, you left me all this time and….”
“I’m not…”
“Do you know how scared I was, how alone and helpless?”
“I can imagine…”
“No you can’t, you can’t imagine because you’re strong and fearless and…”
I must have looked extremely out of my mind, I must have cried and sounded hysterical because Christopher approached me, hugged me, or at least tried to”
“Don’t touch me, don’t ever touch me” I screamed and walked away.
“Abigail…”
“Don’t say my name, don’t…” I was interrupted by his powerful arms folding me inside them. I was suddenly sheltered by his big and warm body; I tried to struggle but not for long as I really needed that shelter, and I felt I belonged there more than any other place in the world at that moment. I was safe and happy. I was… tranquil once again.
“I’m sorry I left you” he started explaining. “It was never my intention to leave you, I would never do that, don’t you understand that already? I will never leave you, I will always stay, I will always be around you, you will always find me. As long as you need me, I’m here, believe that and trust it, because it is true and honest”
“How can I do that when you left me, you really did, you left me here, all alone, and for a very long time too”
“I’m… Abigail, I knew you will not be in danger here, I told you we were very close to the church, if you walked a few miles you would have got to it. Actually I went there first looking for you, when I didn’t find you, I came back here and searched for you. It is safe here, there is no danger, I wouldn’t have left you if I thought you would be in the smallest danger, I’m really sorry I was late…”
How awful I felt, all the painful fear I felt would have been avoided had he told me this before leaving.
“Why didn’t you tell me this?” I interrupted him in anger.
“I thought you knew, I said that we were very close to the church, plus I guess I believed that by now you’d know me, and you’d know that I wouldn’t leave you in danger alone”
“How would I know that? Any way, why did you leave?”
“I… I got some clothes, and some food… for you, you said you were starving and…” he took my hand and I followed, we walked towards that river and there I found two bags, one filled with food and one filled with dresses. I didn’t care about the dresses; all I could see was food, bread, cheese, fruits and juice, most of all strawberries, how I love them. I immediately started eating and drinking. Before I knew it I was full and soon, the fullness of my stomach was bothering me instead of the emptiness of it.
But I kept eating Strawberries, I just couldn’t get enough, they were very fresh and delicious.
“Where did you get all this from? Uh and all these strawberries, it’s my favourite fruit”
“I walked to a soldier’s hatch, and I took everything I needed, I’m glad you’re enjoying the strawberries”
“And the dresses, soldiers have dresses?”
He laughed and said, “No, of course not, well, as far as I know, but, I stole them from the chief’s wife’s chamber.
“You stole them?”
“Oh, don’t start, it’s nothing, she has allot, and she’s the enemy chief’s wife, so”
“You stole this from the enemy; you went to the enemy soldiers’ hatch?” I asked in total horror.
“Yes” he answered calmly.
“Oh thank god you weren’t caught”
“Oh, I was… I was caught alright”.
“What! What happened, how did they let you go?”
He looked at me for a while and then said.
“I ran away, I’m faster than them. That’s why I was late actually; I hid for a while until the search for me was… less heated”
“Oh thank god, don’t do that again please, you could have been killed”
“So what, I’m sure you’d be happy to see me vanish” he quoted my words.
“No, no that’s not true, I… for now, I want you to stay… alive”
“That’s flattering. So you are using me now, and when you get help from someone else you’ll want me… dead?”
“Yes” I replied with a wide teasing smile on my face.
“You should smile more, you have a… you should try to make yourself feel better… if you keep smiling it’ll work and you’ll feel happy eventually.
I washed, and changed my dirty, bloody dress, and wore a fancy beautiful dress.
“At least the enemy has good style” Christopher joked when he saw me in that dress.
We slept. This was the last night that I’ll be sleeping in a forest, in the morning we’ll leave first thing, get married in that church and live in that peaceful village. My parents didn’t leave my mind for one second.
Unique visitors to post: 8
Author: Hanna M.M.K, h.m.m.k.1987@hotmail.com
Chapter seven
Praying
Christopher had left me, I was all alone and there was nothing I could do to fix or undo it. Undo his leaving. I know I said that it was so very hard being with him, and that I was forced to be with him. But, I didn’t want him to leave, I didn’t want to be alone, even if that meant being with him.
I deserved it, I am stupid, Christopher helped me, he never hurt me. It is true that he was severe but he is most probably the least evil during this horrendous time. I wish I had realized that before he left, I wish I followed him, I wish I stopped him from leaving, it is too late now, just too late and I have to deal with it.
All I could do was, hide, and try to survive. I felt frozen, scared, and cold. I hid amongst a patch of bushes. Every second passed like an hour, I never liked being alone, not even at home, at my home, under my safe roof, let alone being alone in a strange forest, believing that someone is going to find me eventually. The thoughts that occupied my mind were unsettling. All I could think of, all I could imagine was images of some strange, scary men, torturing me, and killing me. I had to endure. Even the sound of that brook faded away; it was so very hard to hear its soothing, familiar and friendly sound for three reasons, first, I had walked a bit away from it. Second, the sound of my strong and fast heart beats. And third, the disturbing images in my mind made it extremely impossible to hear it or to focus on anything pleasant or relieving.
I heard things, voices; some of birds, some of animals, and some of people, I presumed.
A sound of footsteps was extremely loud and close that it made me faint. All I could remember when I woke up was the horrifying sound that those footsteps conveyed. It is strange how such an ordinary sound of a very ordinary thing can be frightening and unsettling. Normal life I wouldn’t even notice it, but here, being alone, at war, the most dangerous and horrifying sound to me was the footsteps of a stranger. Loneliness is not as horrible as being in the company of a stranger who wants to hurt you.
 It was night time already when I opened my eyes. And that didn’t help. The only effect it had was increasing the fear in me. I felt kind of relieved for comprehending now that the maker of that footsteps didn’t find me, didn’t hurt me, I was still in the same place and in the same loneliness.
Christopher’s face popped into my head as soon as I closed my eyes. I didn’t close them to sleep, no, that wasn’t the reason, how can I sleep when my heart beats are making me tremble, as if I’m dancing on some tune. How can I sleep when the fear is so potent that I can feel my veins about to explode? I closed my eyes to merge with the darkness that was surrounding me. I felt some very small and dim comfort by closing my eyes. Not seeing everything is better. Although I couldn’t see everything with them open either.
I was surprised of how much comfort Christopher’s face gave me. It was so vivid in my memory and it was the only familiar face that I could remember beside my parents’.
How ironic; I only started seeing Christopher as familiar when he left. I now understood the saying; “you never know what you got till it’s gone”. Only in Christopher’s case, but my parents, I’ve always known their importance and cherished their value in my life.
It is really strange how a stranger becomes a close acquaintance, a friend in these strange times. It is really strange how a person whom I used to fear and hate became someone who supports me and gives me hope and relief but only now, only when it’s too late, too late.
My thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of heavy and quick footsteps. This time I didn’t faint, I opened my eyes with fear, fear that would burn the eyes of its beholder, fear that would turn laughter into tears, love into hate, and tranquillity into disturbance.
I closed my eyes again, I raised my hands to cover them and started praying in low whispers; please god help me, please be with me, please let my death be quick and easy, please, please god let me join my parents in peace. I kept repeating these prayers and the footsteps kept coming closer and closer towards me and it was simply inevitable.
Unique visitors to post: 5
Author: MissIda, idasonberg@hotmail.com
I have these past years followed this amazing series and I have finally watched the newest episodes too, and how I dearly love them. I think they never grow boring or tiresome. I think that there are so many heartwarming characters in this little piece that it overflows with goodness.
In lark rise, the small idyllic hamlet there is such a vast amount of heartwarming characters but I must say that Queenie and Twister are two such delightful creatures. But my favorite character in this little hamlet, besides the Timmins’ that is, is the enduring and hard working Alf Arless who despite his unfortunate mother, his many siblings and his poverty has made something of himself, in episode 3 series 3 he even rents his own childhood home for him and his siblings…
In Candleford we have the post office among many other shops and places. And here we have Dorcas Lane the postmistress and heart of Candleford. A warm, inviting and gentle woman, who never looks down on those in Lark rise. But I must say that I simply adore Thomas Brown, the eternally preaching postman who is always so right and proper, and of course his lovely wife Margaret previously Ellison. The old rector’s daughter, a proper and shy woman but I love how their marriage is actually very passionate.
I cannot tell you all how I am longing to know how everything will end in this glorious series…
I want to know how Laura’s future is, praying she will not marry Daniel and deep down I hope, wish and secretly pray that Laura will wake up and fall in love with Alf.
The mystery of Dorcas Lane and her lovelife. The teaser for episode 7 looks as if Sir Timothy returns, she is confronted by his wife.
And I am longing to know how Minnie turns out, who is her mr right? He white knight.
To all of you that have not watched it and is now thinking “What in the frozen lake of Pemberley is that girl taking off” well, watch it. Really!
Unique visitors to post: 26
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