Chapter 5
There are still noisesin the night, but I’ve grown better at ignoring them. Fortunately, in the week that has passed, there have been no more screams. One night I heard faint music accented by bells right when I was on the edge of sleep, as if drifting to me from a faraway place. Another night I heard heavy thuds and grunting that rumbled the door to the main hall. A different night, I heard laughter echoing from a faraway portion of the manor.
It’s funny how quickly you can grow accustomed to something. Now, I hardly wake up anymore at the strange sounds. The first night after Lord Fenwood and I spoke, I checked the door to my quarters. The handle turned. He did as I asked, so I kept my word and did not open it. After that, I’ve never slept better.
For a week, I find a strange sort of peace to the repetition of my days. It is nice not to be ordered around or have expectations from sunup to sundown. I can walk through the brush and strum in my glade with not a care in the world. Once or twice, I swear I sense the presence of Lord Fenwood listening again. But if he’s there, he doesn’t make himself known as an audience.
Then, the peace fades into monotony.
Today, on the seventh day since my arrival, I wake up and lie in bed and don’t have the energy to do anything more than stare up at the ceiling. What is the point of getting out of bed when there’s nothing to do? At least back home I had a goal. Every day there was something to be done, some necessary upkeep that I would busy my hands with and would make me feel accomplished at the end of the day. At the very least, I’d have Misty to tend to and ride.
When I was married off, I expected to find a new purpose. I was apprehensive of whether I would like that purpose or not. But building a home and family would be something to work on and toward. Having nothing to do is becoming utterly mind-numbing.
“You didn’t go out into the wood today,” Oren says to me at dinner as he pours my glass. I’m surprised he’s noticed my habits. We only interact at the beginning and end of the day and I’ve never seen him between.
“No…” I push some potatoes around my plate with a fork. “I didn’t feel like it.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes—I—I’m not sure, honestly.”
“Are you uncomfortable?” He seems shocked I would have any reason to be upset or distraught. I can’t blame him. I’m surrounded by a comfortable paradise, where all I have to do is say the word and my wish is granted.
“No, not at all.” I laugh bitterly. “Maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe I’m so accustomed to being uncomfortable that I have no idea what to do with myself now that the discomfort is gone.”
“Is there something I can get for you?”
“Not something to get…but something for you to do. Would you mind asking if Lord Fenwood would be open to a nightcap tonight?”
His fine gray brows scrunch together as he looks down at me with his beady eyes. “I can ask him.”
I wonder what that unreadable expression meant for the rest of dinner. Oren doesn’t return. I take my plate down to the kitchen, washing it as I have after most meals and returning it to its place. On my way back to my room I notice that the door to my study is open. The two chairs are waiting, sweating glasses filled with a cool drink perched on tables at their sides.
I’m eager to take my seat. I settle in, shifting until I’m comfortable. Then, I grab the armrests and lean back into my chair, pressing my skull against the leather. Even if the lord startles me, I will not look. I want this meeting to go smoothly. I didn’t realize how badly I’ve needed to make a genuine connection in my new home until I’m in this very moment. I might not want love from the man…but friendship, a shared goal or understanding, I could do with that, I think. Even in the worst moments at the manor I had Laura.
Oh, sweet Laura. I wonder daily how she’s doing.
“You asked to see me?” That toe-curling voice startles me from my thoughts. I wonder if he knows that, however hideous he might imagine himself to be, with a voice like that he could have his pick of any man or woman.
“I did. I thought we might share a drink.” I lift up my glass, raising it off to the side so that he can see. I hear the whisper of his footsteps drawing near. Without warning, his glass clanks softly against mine. He’s close; if I turned my head I could see him. But I don’t. Once more, the fire smolders so low that all I can make out of him in the window is a tall shadow. “What are we toasting to?”
“How about the fact that I’ve managed to keep you alive this long?” He chuckles darkly.
I laugh as well. “I’m not that reckless.”
“But I have been known to be.” The chair behind me shifts as he settles into it.
“Oh?”
“In my younger years, especially.” The ice clinks in his glass as he takes a sip. “I have been the cause of many of Oren’s headaches throughout his time caring for me.”
“Oren has been with you a long time?”
“Yes, he’s looked after me since I was a baby.”
“Did you know your parents?” I ask softly, fully aware of just how difficult this topic can be.
“I did.”
