Heart of the Beholder

15

brIDGETTE PAUSED AND TOOK A few deep breaths at the top of the stairs. What just happened? She was teetering between feeling flattered and suspicious. It was too much to comprehend. Why did he want to know about a scar she tried so hard to forget about? Why would he say her brow crease was charming?

She shook her head to rid the swarming questions and made her way down the stairs. In the kitchen, she forced herself to focus on putting away the dried dishes, then went to change her shoes in the servants’ hallway. She checked one more time to make sure all her cleaning supplies were put away, and exited out the servants’ door. The sky was considerably dark for the hour. Had she lost track of time? She didn’t even think to check the clock on her way out, but Edgar hadn’t come back yet, so it couldn’t be that late. There was nothing she could change about the situation, so she locked the door with her key, and walked down the steps near her soon-to-be vegetable garden.

She smiled and whispered, “See you tomorrow, my sweet little garden.”

She slipped through the gate and made her way around the manor, rocks crunching beneath her boots as she went. The noise seemed extra loud against the unusual silence. Chills ran down her back and arms as she picked up the pace. Bridgette froze abruptly when she saw that her path disappeared into the dark shadows of the trees, which seemed to hum with an uninviting energy.

“It’s fine,” she assured herself out loud and took a shaky step. “It's just the dark. I have walked this path so many times, I can do it with my eyes closed.” Bridgette gathered up her courage and walked. Something was off, she could feel it, but she had no idea what it could be. She needed to get home to relieve Birdie and check her mother. “Just get on with it, Bridgette.”

A loud howl interrupted the discussion she was having with herself and made her tremble from head to toe. She had heard a wolf howl before, but it had always been far off. However, this one was not far off. She could feel it staring at her, waiting for her to make her move. Bridgette stood frozen to the spot, staring into the dark trees, which reminded her of the darkness under Lord Thornwood’s hood. It was a frustrating void that kept her from progressing how she wanted.

A growl made her jump. She didn’t need another reason to run toward the front steps of the manor. Bridgette didn’t look back; she focused on the front door and put all of her energy into reaching it. She tripped up the steps in her haste and dropped her key. She wanted to cry when she heard the tink of it hitting the stone beneath her. She felt around for a moment, but didn't feel anything. Another howl had her forgetting about the key and banging on the front door to the manor. She didn’t hold back and pounded with both fists. She had to be loud enough to persuade Lord Thornwood to answer the door himself.

The door blessedly opened, and she heard, “Miss Meadowbrooke?”

She pushed inside and shut the door herself. Lord Thornwood stepped back and kept quiet. The entrance hall was dark with only a few lit candles on the center table. “I-I-I am sorry,” she managed to say. “It seems to be much darker than I expected and—” She paused to take a deep breath. “—I heard a howl and thought maybe you might have a lantern I could borrow or a—”

“Miss Meadowbrooke, take another deep breath,” he insisted. Bridgette put one hand on her stomach and the other on her chest and took a breath. “You heard a howl?”

“Yes, and a growl, and it's dark, and then I tripped and dropped my key,” she said quickly and realized what a blubbering fool she must sound like. She got control of her shaking and said, “My lord, I am sorry to have made you answer the door, but if you can let me borrow a lantern, I will be on my way.”

“You are going to walk alone through the dark forest with wolves, and a lantern is all you need?”

“Yes, I will make it work,” she said, not believing herself.

“And Edgar would have to start looking for a new maid. There are plenty of empty rooms here. You can just stay in one of them tonight. I’ll make sure Edgar is aware when he gets back,” he said.

“No, thank you. I really need to get back,” Bridgette said before he could offer more.

“Why?”

“My mother, she is sick. I need to get back to her and make sure she has everything she needs.” Her fingers twisted in her skirt nervously.

“Has she been alone all day?”

“Um, no, my, um, neighbor is with her.”

“Couldn’t she just stay with her until you return?”

“Well, yes, but Birdie is not your typical neighbor. If I don’t return tonight, she will panic and come looking for me, which would not be good for anyone. Trust me, I just need to get home as soon as possible for the safety of everyone,” she said.

“I see,” he grumbled. “For the first time, I regret telling Edgar not to buy a carriage, or even just a horse.” Lord Thornwood walked away from her toward the dining room. “I think Edgar has a lantern in his room, or somewhere close by.”

Bridgette quietly followed him through the kitchen and into the servant quarters. As lord of the house, he acted with surprising familiarity with the space. He entered Edgar’s private room. She waited in the hall and listened to him move things until he said, “Here it is.”

Bridgette stepped aside to let him pass and followed him back out to the entrance hall, where he used one of the candles to light the lantern. He turned toward her and held up the lantern. “Will this do?”

“Yes, thank you, my lord,” Bridgette said. She reached for the lantern, but Lord Thornwood moved it out of her reach. She tilted her head, confused.

“I will carry it,” he said, walking to the front door and opening it. Bridgette hurried behind him and peeked around his large form to look out into the dark evening. She didn’t see any wolves, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “We had better get going so you can get home to your mother.”

“We?” she asked as she timidly stepped out the door.

“I can’t let you go by yourself. Edgar would have my head.” Lord Thornwood said as he shut the door. “Is that your key?” he asked and pointed to something shiny on the bottom step.

“Oh yes!” Bridgette fetched it and locked the front door. “Okay, let's go.”

They walked along the path and into the trees. The farther they traveled, the darker it got and the closer she walked next to Lord Thornwood, being careful not to bump into him. The lantern helped to see the ground right in front of them, but didn’t let them see too far ahead. “You are very kind to walk me home. I am very grateful.”

He grunted. “Like I said, Edgar would have my head.”

“Well then, I am grateful Edgar holds you to a high standard of chivalry,” Bridgette said.

“As am I.”

They walked for a moment in silence, but soon Bridgette felt the need to fill it. “I suppose I could tell you about my scar now,” she said quietly.

“If that is what you want, I will listen,” he said, holding the lantern up higher.

“There really isn’t much to tell,” Bridgette said, rubbing at her scar. Her heartbeat rattled her nerves. “Not long ago, the land where I grew up stopped producing crops like it used to. My father started drinking from the stress of trying to get enough money to pay taxes and keep us alive. Sometimes, he would drink so much that he’d forget who he was, and would do and say things he normally wouldn’t do.”

Lord Thornwood stopped walking. “Did he hit you?” His voice was dark. Bridgette didn’t stop walking. She couldn’t look up at him. Lord Thornwood followed her and kept silent.

“Only once,” she said. “With a glass ale bottle. But that was the night my mother and I got away, so it is fine. We are safe and fine. It's fine.”

“It is a sore subject for you,” Lord Thornwood said after a moment.

“As your brother is a sore subject for you,” she snapped without thought.

“You have me there,” he said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so rude,” she apologized.

“You do not owe me an apology. I asked you about a personal subject which was none of my business. I deserve to be snapped at.” His voice was calm, and she could hear the honesty in it.

“I don’t believe that, but thank you for understanding,” she said and tucked a lock of loose hair behind her ear.

“I did not realize how far this walk was for you,” he said.

“I don’t mind it,” she said. “In the light, it is actually quite beautiful.”

“I believe you.”

“You should see it for yourself.”

“Maybe one day I will.”

Lightning jolted across the sky and was immediately followed by thunder that shook the ground beneath their feet. Heavy raindrops started pouring down on their heads. Bridgette squealed and ran for cover under a thick-branched tree. It helped, but some drops still managed to find her. Lord Thornwood joined her and kept the lantern sheltered under his cloak. “I should have grabbed an extra cloak before we left,” he grumbled.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” Bridgette assured him. “It’s refreshing.” She spun out into the rain and laughed.

“A gentleman would offer his cloak to you,” he said with anger in his voice.

“It’s okay,” Bridgette said again. “We can just pretend you did, and I declined because I wanted to feel the rain on my face.”

“But that is not what happened,” he growled. He reached a gloved hand to the clasp at his throat. “Turn around. I will give you my cloak. I will stay behind you so you don’t see me.”

Bridgette wanted to ask so many questions, but she could tell he was uncomfortable. He walked around his own home with the cloak on. She never saw him without it.

“No,” Bridgette said firmly. He stopped fiddling with the clasp. “I won’t accept it. I want you to keep it.”

“But you will get wet,” he complained.

“I am fine with that,” she said with an exaggerated grin.

“You will catch a cold,” he argued.

She shook her head and laughed. “That is what mothers say to get their kids to come inside and not play in the mud.”

“You are insufferable,” he said with a sigh.

“I have been called worse,” she said, then spun around. “We better keep moving.” She started to make her way back to the path, and against her will, her body shivered violently as a breeze blew against her wet clothes. She tried her best to resist the temptation to wrap her arms around herself to keep warm.

“Wait,” Lord Thornwood called. She heard him catch up to her, and the ground around her became easier to discern with the light from the lantern. She knew he probably wasn’t going to let the argument go, so she prepared herself to stand her ground. Something fell over her and encompassed her in warmth. It startled her so much, she stepped back and hit something solid. Lord Thornwood grunted, and the noise vibrated through his chest and into her. “The cloak is big enough for the both of us, and I won’t let you decline. If you are uncomfortable, I will force you to wear the cloak by yourself.”

It was a nice cloak. And she was warm. Was there a reason why she should decline the gesture? “I suppose this is an acceptable compromise,” she said.

“Good,” he said.

Bridgette held on to the side of the cloak he had draped over her as they continued to walk. They started out on opposite feet, so they bumped into each other on the next step, and the force of it made her lose her balance. She held onto the cloak, but felt herself tipping. A quick hand caught her waist and put her back on her feet. “We have to walk as if we are one person, or it will not work.”

“And how do we do that?” she asked, brushing more loose hair out of her face.

“By being closer,” he said. “Put your arm around me.”

Bridgette laughed out loud because she didn’t know how else to respond.

“I do not mean anything by it,” he said. “I am just trying to get you home quickly.”

Bridgette hesitantly stepped closer and slipped her arm around his waist, and his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She was instantly reminded about the cat that was curled up in the warm sunshine.

“Are you okay with this?” Lord Thornwood asked. Bridgette thought she heard a little shyness in his voice.

“Yes,” she said. Thank goodness he can’t read minds!

The temptation to look up at his face was almost too much for her to ignore. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to get a glance of his features. But would it be worth the risk of making him uncomfortable or upset? He was being so kind, she supposed she could fight the urge of her curiosity.

The rain fell even harder as they found a rhythm where they could move quickly without causing the other to trip. She held onto him while he held the cloak over her. She almost felt like a baby chick under its mother’s protective wing, which was a hilarious thought and it made her laugh.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Fine, don't tell me.”

“I was just thinking how I am the baby chick, and you are my mother hen,” she said and laughed loudly.

He chuckled, and it vibrated through his chest again.

“And we would be an odd sight for anyone who saw us,” she added.

Lord Thornwood froze in place while Bridgette kept walking, so when her arm was held back unexpectedly, she found herself sitting in the mud. “I am the most foolish of fools,” Lord Thornwood exclaimed as he grabbed her under the arms and helped her back up.

Bridgette couldn’t help but giggle. “Don’t worry about it. This is normal for me.”

“Your dress is all muddy now,” he stated.

“I was going to wash it tomorrow anyway,” Bridgette said with a smile, then frowned. “But it might get on your cloak.”

“I'll just have Edgar have you wash it tomorrow as well.” He was teasing her. It wasn’t the first time, but this time seemed different.

“That’s it, I am walking in the rain after that comment,” she said with feigned frustration. She made a show of her stomping as she trudged toward home.

“I forbid it,” Lord Thornwood said as he wrapped his arm and cloak around her once again. He smelled of old books, paint, and some kind of spice she couldn’t name.

She laughed freely. “I suppose if I win at chess tomorrow, you will have to wash it yourself.”

“As long as I don’t have to do the dishes, I won’t complain.”

They both laughed. Bridgette was so engrossed in the moment she didn’t notice the figure ahead of them until he spoke.

“Bridgette?”

Lord Thornwood stepped away from her before she had a chance to think of what to do. She was left shivering in the rain alone.

“Oh, hi, Charles,” she said with an awkward wave.

“What are you doing out here in the dark by yourself? Where is your coat?” he asked with wide eyes.

“I was just walking home from Lord Thornwood’s manor,” she said and looked over to where Lord Thornwood was standing in the shadows of the trees. How did he get over there so fast? “Lord Thornwood was walking with me so I wasn’t alone.”

Charles looked in Lord Thornwood’s direction and raised his lantern to see better. “Oh, um, do you need me to take you the rest of the way? Then Lord Thornwood can get back to his manor?”

Bridgette said, “No, that’s fine,” in the same moment Lord Thornwood said, “Yes.”

“I shall make sure she gets home safely, my lord,” Charles said to the shadows.

“My sincere thanks,” Lord Thornwood said.

Bridgette frowned in disappointment.

Charles shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her. “Here put this on, we don’t want you catching a cold.”

Bridgette hesitated, but Charles was insistent, so she slid her arms into the coat and looked over her shoulder. She wanted to beg Lord Thornwood to stay with her, but she knew that would not be appropriate, especially with Charles as a witness. Charles held out his elbow and said, “Shall we?”

Bridgette looped her arm through his and looked back one more time before she let Charles lead her away from the man hiding in the shadows.

“Why was he walking you home? Doesn’t he have servants who could do it for him?” Charles asked, after they had walked for a few minutes, in awkward silence.

“No, his servants were out running errands,” she said.

“Oh, well, good thing I was out tonight. I am sure it was a major inconvenience for him,” Charles said.

“I guess.” Bridgette felt her heart sink. They turned onto the road where her cottage sat with lights dancing in the windows from the fire Birdie must have lit.

“To be honest, I was starting to think Lord Thornwood was made up. Just a story to keep people from wandering the area. Who would risk running into a beast of a man?”

“He is not like that,” Bridgette cut in. “He is human. He is kind.”

“That’s not what Anne said,” he pointed out.

Bridgette stepped away and shrugged out of the coat. She handed it back to him and said, “Thank you for walking me.”

Charles looked shocked. “But we are not at your place yet.”

“It’s fine. I know the way,” she said and turned away.

“But—”

“Goodnight, Charles,” she called over her shoulder.

“Um, goodnight?”