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Rekindling

Page 7

by Sara Brown


  Chapter 5

  “Come on, wake up.” A small voice said, cutting through my sleep.

  “She didn’t even stir. No, no, your method isn’t going to work. Move aside.” Said another voice, making the bed shift as someone else sat beside me.

  “Get your arse out of bed, Ophelia Ashby!” The voice yelled, effectively making me crank one eye open in annoyance. I stopped short as I saw who was hovering above me.

  “Cristina? Is that you?” Her flaming red hair was pinned up elegantly and her green eyes were shining brightly.

  “Long time no see.”

  Annabelle sat at the foot of the bed smiling helplessly. “She said you wouldn’t wake up otherwise.” She supplied, shrugging.

  “Well, it isn’t my fault Ophelia can sleep through a shipwreck.” Cristina said: she was one of those friends whom one could never forget. We’d met before I travelled to England. She was a born and bred Bostonian who had a knack for trouble. Even her widowed father gave up on her, but she didn’t seem to care much.

  “What time is it?” I asked groggily.

  “It’s almost lunch time. Did you know we’ve been searching the whole ship for you this whole time?!” Anna shot amused looks as she glanced up from her book.

  “I find that rather hard to believe, considering this is the largest ship ever made.” I replied, bemused.

  “Truly. I discovered a pool. A pool! Do you want to know exactly how many staircases I had to go through to come across a pool?” Cristina hated small spaces, so she avoided the elevators as much as possible.

  “We understand there was a pool, Cristina, you don’t have to keep going on about it.” Chimed Annabelle absentmindedly.

  “Well it’s too bad I wasn’t at that pool with you: I would’ve tossed you in for sure.” I said dryly. Anna giggled softly while Cristina narrowed her gaze at me.

  “Ha ha, very funny.” She mocked. “This was all your mother’s fault. She wouldn’t tell us where you were, so we assumed you were somewhere exploring the ship.”

  I stretched in the soft bed and finally summoned the strength to slip on a robe. “I suppose she wanted to give me more time to rest.”

  Anna put her book down. “Did you not sleep well?” Her voice was concerned as she studied my face carefully.

  “Not after last night. Stanley and I ended up having dinner with Henry, amongst other people.”

  “Oh, dear.” Breathed Annabelle. Cristina gaped and shot out of bed.

  “This is a conversation for the sitting room. Let’s go, your mother had a tray of food delivered.”

  Half an hour later I was sitting in the private parlor completely dressed and snacking on some fruits. The girls decided to join me and had picked out some food as well. We chatted quietly for a while, before the inevitable subject resurfaced.

  “So you had dinner with Henry. How did that turn out?”

  “It was tense.” I informed them, sighing. “Why weren’t you at dinner?” I asked Cristina, turning to fix my gaze on her. I never once saw her in the dining saloon.

  “I was otherwise preoccupied.” She replied, smiling at our puzzled expressions cheekily. Cristina preferred wine over tea, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she had been too drunk to go anywhere. It was yet another thing that her father gave up on a long time ago.

  “Did you drink before dinner?” Annabelle accused, shaking her head as Cristina shrugged cavalierly.

  “I only had two drinks, but father didn’t want me to make a ‘fool of myself’ during dinner.” She explained, rolling her eyes. “But on to more important matters. What did Henry do? Did he apologize?” She leaned forward on the table in anticipation of my answer. Even Annabelle was playing close attention to the conversation.

  “Dinner was alright, although he stared a lot.” I told them, noting the interest that showed on their faces.

  “Staring is good!” Cristina exclaimed. “If he can’t stop looking at you, chances are probably can’t get you out of his head. He wants you!” I shook my head and squashed the flutter of excitement that ran through me.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. After dinner he threatened to tell Stanley everything.” Anna gasped and Cristina muttered a curse.

  “Well, what made him change his mind?”

  “He wanted me to convince him.” They were both looking at me curiously, waiting for me to elaborate. “...with a kiss.” Annabelle’s mouth fell open in shock and Cristina smiled gleefully.

  “How was the kiss?” I gaped at Annabelle’s question. Sweet, pure, Annabelle, who would never in her right mind ask something like that. The world must be sitting upside down this morning.

  “Well, that’s the thing. There was no kiss. He changed his mind at the last minute and sent me off.” My voice was as puzzled as their faces were. There was a dull moment of silence until Cristina jumped to her feet.

  “I’ve heard of problems for today. Do you girls want to enjoy some fresh air on deck with me?”

  The fresh breeze on deck was cool, but soothing. I quickly agreed that coming to take a walk on deck had been a good idea. Most first class passengers were still eating or doing some form of recreation inside, so the promenade deck was fairly empty. It was nice to have the large decks all to ourselves.

  Cristina (who has had a French fashion craze as of late) was telling us about her dress. To be honest, it looked more like an evening dress. The bright green fabric contrasted with her hair and looked like silk, but it managed to fall around her hips perfectly. It was much more eye-catching than the simpler lavender day dress I was wearing, if the lingering looks from the gentlemen meant anything. Cristina was admiring the lace trimmings on Anna’s dress when I noticed a familiar face.

  “Penelope?” The girl whipped around and her face lit up. She was standing beside me momentarily, greeting me happily.

  “Miss Ophelia! What a pleasure to see you.” She said, turning to address Cristina and Annabelle, who were staring curiously.

  “Likewise, Miss Royce. These are my friends, Miss Cristina and Miss Annabelle.” They greeted each other politely, and I pretended not to notice the puzzled look on Anna’s face. Penelope joined our group and walked in step with Cristina while Anna and I lingered behind.

  “Isn’t that the girl who was clinging on to Henry last night?” She whispered, sneaking careful glances as Penelope walked before us. I nodded silently in reply. Anna looked at the time and snapped. “I have to go, see you at dinner.”

  Cristina and Penelope continued to chat animatedly, and I decided to let them be. Besides, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about spending time with Penelope. And it wasn’t because I was jealous, I swear. The girls walked briskly ahead of me, and the gap between us seemed to grow larger. I preferred walking slowly and enjoying the sights at my leisure, which is probably why I noticed Henry cowering in a corner and they didn’t. Something told me to walk away, to leave him and forget I ever saw him. But my mouth had a mind of its own.

  “Henry?” His large frame shuddered in surprise before he turned to look at me.

  “Hello, Ophelia.” He didn’t leave his small corner: instead he kept glancing over his shoulder. Maybe this was my cue to leave? It was obvious that he wasn’t interested in speaking with me. And I don’t know why I even bothered—

  But then I heard it. The loud voices of Penelope and Cristina were nearing again, making another circle around the deck, and Henry looked panicked. He glanced at me, latched on to my arm, dragged us into a small room on the boat deck and slammed the door shut.

  “Are you hiding?” My voice was incredulous, and I almost wanted to laugh at his worried expression. He observed the room we were in, the gymnasium, and took a peek from the large windows next to us. There was something I recognized as a barbell, and a rowing machine. The rest of the contraptions looked unfamiliar to me.

  “I’m not hiding.” He hedged. “I’m just avoiding Penelope. She’s a very determined young girl. Can you believe she followed me all the w
ay here, unaccompanied? That girl is a monster.” He whispered the last part, rolling his eyes as I snickered at him.

  “Well, there’s something we can agree on.” I muttered caustically, ignoring the playful he gave me.

  “Are you jealous?” His tone was disbelieving, but there was the trace of a smile on his face. Was he onto something? I disliked Penelope because she was loud and annoyingly enthusiastic. But then again I disliked her from the moment I saw her on his arm, well before she even uttered a word. There was a chance that Henry knew me better than I knew myself, which frustrated me beyond words.

  “I’m not jealous,” I stuttered. “I’m just not very fond of her.”

  “I don’t see why a young girl like you would dislike Penelope. Your friends seem to like her just fine.” He teased, grinning unevenly like he always did when he was wining an argument. I tried taking a step back but was met with a firm wall, trapped. My mouth opened and closed like a fish as a fumbled for words.

  “If you like her so much, why don’t you marry her?”

  I caught my breath as he stared at me intently and licked his lips. His green eyes took on a soft glimmer, looking so hypnotizing I feared I would fall right into them. “Because I’m not going all the way to America for her.”

  “Yes, I know. As Mr. Royce explained it, it seems you have to tend to some financial matters.”

  He chuckled. “If you think I would go all the way for simple finances, darling, you are very wrong.” My heart leaped from his absentminded endearment. He was still cornering me on the wall, right next to the door. I could reach over and escape, but I was so curious…

  “What are you trying to imply?” Instantly I knew I’d been wrong. The way he smiled victoriously led me to believe I’d taken the bait.

  “I want you.” His usually playful eyes were boring into me with such conviction that I wanted to shrink up and disappear. I avoided and settled for staring at our shoes. I had never felt such conflicting emotions in my life. It was absolutely ridiculous. I wanted to raise my chin indignantly in the air and deny him: I wasn’t his plaything any longer. But I itched to throw myself into his arms and beg him to never let me go. Maybe I was a masochist.

  But instead of saying anything of consequence, I scrambled for an excuse. “Henry, this is ridiculous. I’m engaged to Stanley.” I protested feebly. Of course it was all a lie: If it were up to me I’d never been engaged to Stanley in the first place. He looked unconvinced with my answer, and was prowling for a chink in my armor.

  “For God’s sake, I’m getting married in a matter of weeks!”

  “Are you challenging me? To tear that wedding apart?” He asked softly, sending a little shiver down my spine. I looked into his eyes for a fraction of a second and I knew that he would do it. It was the same look he got when I first met him and told him I’d never be interested in someone like him: frighteningly determined.

  “No.” I said evenly. “I’m wondering why you’re not planning your own wedding to the woman you left me for.” It was painful for me to say, but I was desperate. Wounded animals are the most dangerous, and I’d never understood it better than at this moment. The sentence made Henry flinch as if he’d been slapped. He went slack and stumbled backwards unsteadily.

  “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.” He said raggedly. I always he got the better of me, but now I wasn’t so sure. Because his eyes reflected my pain as if it were his own. I wanted to walk out on him now, but I couldn’t. The pain and loneliness in his eyes froze me in place. He might have walked out on me, but I would never be able to bring myself to abandon him.

  “There was more than you knew about.” He said quietly. “There are things that you need to know before you leave for good, Ophelia. But you’re wounded, and it’ll do no good to say anything now. If you change your mind, I will always be nearby.” His finally met mine as he gave me a solemn nod and strolled out of the room.

 

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