8
Rosabelle was liking her early evening rendezvous with Lucas very much. It was the highlight of her everyday routine. She liked talking with him and he seemed to enjoy her company too. The chess game became a sideline as they talked anything under the sun. Anything except the mystery of the white mask itself.
She found him very intelligent. He obviously got schooled by the best scholars and he had a gifted mind. She listen attentively at all his experiences especially in places he had visited. Papa had never ventured beyond the ocean but Lucas had and his stories were filled with all the people he met in his travels. He even described buildings that were triangular in shape or buildings that was a gigantic mausoleum. Isabelle would have loved hearing his stories, Rosabelle thought.
"Legend has it that the sphinx was actually guarding the pharaoh’s treasure in the afterlife."
Rosabelle shook her head in amazement, "I can't help but wonder how many people it took to build those amazing wonders."
"Hundreds and thousands. A lot of slaves, unfortunately, were killed in the process." Then he went on to describe the animals that were used as transportation. Not horses but camels with their hunchbacks.
Sometimes, Rosabelle would bring up her sketchbook and he would draw what he was describing and Rosabelle would finish the drawing with the image in her head. There was a time when he guided her drawing, holding her hand which held the charcoal pencil. It almost felt he wanted to hold her hand far longer than was required. She would catch him looking at her for long periods of time but he would look away and change the topic. But then again, it could only be her imagination or wishful thinking on her part, she thought.
After a couple of hours, he would escort her to the threshold where the staircase would split into the left and right wing. He would give a small bow and watch her go up her own set of stairs, waiting patiently before turning towards his room.
It was a good change for the young master. She noticed his footsteps were lighter and he was coming out of his rooms more often. He would sometimes come out in the gardens and talk with Pedro while she was tending to the garden. She liked to hear his voice as he spoke. It was a melodic in a manly sort of way and was soothing to her ears. She would steal glances as she work and look down quickly when he would in turn look at her.
He would look her way with intensity and she was glad half of her face was covered because she was blushing crimson red beneath. She could feel the heat of his stare beneath the white mask. He would even bring out their lunch tray for that day and join them underneath the apple tree, making it a sort of picnic. Pedro would hurry with his lunch and excuse himself, leaving Rosabelle and Lucas all to themselves. If Pedro observed anything from their companionship, he kept it to himself.
She was almost tempted to ask Lucas the reason why he was wearing that white mask but something always held her tongue back. She did not want to offend or hurt him. She savored their friendship and did not want to jeopardize it.
Other times he would play with Chip and the stable puppy-dog Bruno in the gardens. Bruno, the little rascal, had grown fast but was still as playful.
One day, the puppy-dog with its boundless energy came running around the corner. He came in between Lucas' legs in his attempt to make his way across, making Lucas trip and fall backwards, hitting his head on the ground and knocking him out for a second. The dog came away unscathed but Lucas was not moving. He lay flat on his back, motionless. The white mask did not even budge.
Rosabelle gasped from her work and rushed towards him, kneeling beside his body, "Are you alright, Lucas?" She was touching his head, arms and legs, checking for anything broken. She went back to his head to see if he had any bumps. She had heard of people going unconscious after falling hard and never waking up.
"Keep touching me like that and I cannot vouch for the consequences, Rosabelle." Came a teasing voice from Lucas. He was fully awake, apparently not hurt at all.
"Oh." Rosabelle just said, embarrassed that she was not inhibited in her actions, blushing again, not knowing what to do next.
"But I do like your hands on my head. It feels soothing. I would have you massage my head but we are in full view. Our audience might wonder what kind of foreplay we're doing."
Rosabelle saw that Chip was holding Bruno not too far away, grinning from ear to ear. Pedro, not far behind him, was looking at them with amusement. Miranda was also there since she came to bring in refreshments for them, a pitcher in her hand. She glanced away when Rosabelle looked up to see who was there. The heat on her cheeks was unrelenting, almost bursting to flames.
"I like it when you blush, Rosabelle." He was lying sideways now, his head propped on his right hand. The mask on his face steady and unmoving from his fall. "Shall we continue our foreplay elsewhere?"
Rosabelle stood up and countered with, "Well, you can start kissing the floor since you're down there already. I hope you enjoy yourself."
She left him then but not before he heard him chuckling in amusement. She couldn't help it but that made her smile, her heart lightening. It was good to finally hear him laugh.
9
A letter arrived from her sister one Saturday afternoon and she opened it immediately when Miranda handed it off. She read its contents and her hands shook a little as the message came across. Her father was sick and it did not look good. Their father had been sad and withdrawn after Rosabelle left and had not been eating at all. Now he was lying in probably his deathbed, just waiting. Isabelle wrote that she did not want to worry Rosabelle but she could not forgive herself if something bad happened to their father without Rosabelle knowing.
Miranda looked at her, concern filling her face, "Rosabelle, is everything well? You turned pale all of a sudden."
Rosabelle handed the letter off to Miranda to read and waited until the cook finished reading it.
Miranda returned the letter back to Rosabelle, "You must go see your father, Rosabelle."
"But I can't leave. He probably won't let me."
Miranda took both of her hands, "Rosabelle, the master is not an ogre. He will understand. Besides, I think it's best if you two had a little space. It will give you both time to reflect on your feelings with one another."
Rosabelle stopped for a moment, "Feelings? I'm not--" Then she stopped again. Miranda was right. She had to go see her father. She excused herself from the kitchens and walked up the staircase to Lucas' chambers. She knocked loudly and Lucas himself opened his door.
"Rosabelle, eager to begin our nightly rendezvous already?" He teased. His smile wavered when he saw her serious face. "What is wrong, Rosabelle?"
Rosabelle handed the letter to him, "Lucas, this just came in with Miranda. It's a letter from my sister."
She watched him as he read the entire letter. He gave a sigh as he finished, "Pack your things, Rosabelle. It's time for you to go home... to your family."
"Oh, thank you, Lucas!" Rosabelle hugged him tightly in gratitude.
And for a moment, he hugged her back tenderly. He was the first to let go. “Rosabelle, you need to see your father. I'll have one of the groomsmen saddle two horses. He will accompany you."
Rosabelle rushed to her rooms and put on her riding cape. She will just have to leave the other things in the room. There was no time and space to carry all her belongings.
At the stable, Lucas met her. She saw that Davis will be going with her.
"Lucas, thank you."
"Ride as fast as you can, Rosabelle. I hope you can reach your father in time." He held her hand in his hands and gave it a squeeze.
"I don't know how long---?"
"Take as much time as you need, Rosabelle." Lucas helped her up her horse, his hands steady and strong as he held her up.
Davis took the lead and Rosabelle followed on her horse. She glanced back and she saw Lucas watching them as they made their the way out of the castle's gates. He looked more lonely than ever, his mask gleaming white in the dusky hue of nightfall. He gave a small wave
of goodbye then dropped his hand slowly. Her heart dropped at the sight and she waved back in turn until she could not see him any longer.
Rosabelle turned to face forward and concentrated in reaching her father in time. They rode their horses for several hours before the familiar contours of her village appeared on the horizon. It was late at night when they pulled up at Rosabelle's cottage house.
Davis tipped his hat and said, "I better be going back to the castle, Miss. Keep the horse with you. He'll know how to get back to the castle when you return. I hope your father gets better."
"Thank you, Davis. Are you sure you don't want to rest for awhile and leave at first light?"
"No, Miss Rosabelle. Thank you but I better head back before something happens."
He did not have to explain but Rosabelle instinctively knew it had something to do with the mystery of the white mask. She watched him leave before she brought her horse into the stable with the other horses. The door to the house open before she reached the threshold and she was greeted by her sister Isabelle who wound her arms around her in a tight embrace.
"Rosabelle! I'm so glad to see you!"
"Is father---?" She did not want to finish, not wanting to say it.
"He's in his room resting, Rosabelle. But he is very weak. He will be happy to see you."
Rosabelle removed her cape and walked towards her father's room. She went in and knelt at her father's side. The room was lit with a lamp at its dimmest setting. The shadows showed a figure in the bed, a man her father used to be wasting away. Her father was sleeping but opened his eyes when she opened the door. He looked thinner and more haggard. His eyes were sunken and dark.
"Rosabelle, is that really you? Am I dreaming?" The voice just above a whisper, hoarse and dry.
"No, Papa. I am here." She held his hands and kissed them dearly. He held his hands up to her face so he can feel her presence through his sickness.
Her father started to cry, "Oh, Rosabelle. Please forgive me. I should not have let you go alone and face that monster. Did he hurt you? Did he hurt my little Rosabelle?"
"Hush, Papa. All is well. I am unharmed."
"Thank God!" And then she watched her father drift off to sleep, a smile on his lips.
Isabelle put a hand on Rosabelle's shoulder, "That's the most peaceful sleep he has ever had after you left."
Rosabelle got up and joined her sister outside their father's room. She eyed the family room. She could see that Isabelle tidied up as best as she could but the room was not the same way as Rosabelle left it.
"As you can see, I am not as skillful at housekeeping as you are, Rosabelle." Isabelle said sheepishly, almost embarrassed.
Rosabelle gave her sister a half embrace, "You did the best you could. You were helping Papa and that's what matters most."
Isabelle smiled, "I am happy you are here, sister. All will be well. I am sure of it."
The two sisters conversed more into the night and discussed the plan in getting their father to his former usual state.
10
It was a slow healing process for their father. Rosabelle realized her father would have succumbed to an imminent death if she had not come home in time. She was grateful Lucas made her go home immediately.
She cooked her herbal tea and chicken soup which she spoon fed her father. He was able to eat a little day by day, gaining his strength slowly. They would sit their father outside as he took in the fresh air and the morning sun. Papa would stare out into the patio, gazing at the beauty of nature and just relax.
Isabelle would read out loud while their father would listen. It would be stories of a faraway land, of adventures of princes and princesses. Rosabelle would listen in also as she tidied the cottage or tend to the garden, her mind drifting away as she carried on with her tasks. Her life at the castle was like a fairy tale, she thought. Complete with a prince charming of her own. She would remember Lucas and his stories and that would bring a smile to her lips. How was he doing, she wondered? How were the others? Miranda? Chip?
Rosabelle was happy that her father was on the road to recovery but she found that her life was missing something but she could not put a finger on it.
One night she dreamt about Lucas. He was calling out to her in his sleep. He was having a fever and breaking out in cold sweats. He was trying to reach for her but he could not get a hold of her. Her body was like a spirit hovering above his bed. She tried to touch his face but it seemed he was beyond her reach. She was stretching out her hand but she could not touch him. He was calling out again to her but she could not move closer, their hands too far away. It was as if something was preventing them from getting closer.
"Lucas!" She heard herself cry out, trying to wake him up but he drifted off to sleep. "Lucas," she tried again. This time she felt her body shake.
She opened her eyes and saw a concerned Isabelle sitting on her bed, waking her up.
"Rosabelle, you were talking in your sleep. I had to wake you up. Are you alright?”
Rosabelle sat up, realizing then it was only a dream but it felt so real. She felt Lucas needed her, crying out for her or was that her crying out for him? Regardless of who was calling out for whom, she had to do what was right.
"Isabelle, I have to go back. Papa is feeling much better. He is on the mend and no longer need me."
"You want to go back to the man in the white mask?" Isabelle asked softly.
Rosabelle looked at her sister in surprise, "You knew?"
Isabelle nodded, "I overheard Papa that night but I was afraid of going away. But I'm not afraid anymore. I can go this time and you can stay with Papa."
"Isabelle, I don't think this is your time to leave Papa. He still needs you. This one, I believe, I need to finish. I feel it in my heart."
Isabelle sighed in resignation, "You're so brave, Rosabelle. You will have to tell Papa in the morning."
Rosabelle hugged her sister, "I think he already knows I will be leaving soon."
The next morning, Rosabelle told her father she will be leaving for the castle at the end of the week. Thomas Hardy took a deep breath and asked, worry in his eyes, "Are you sure you want to go back, Rosabelle? We can move away and hide. He will not find us."
Rosabelle nodded, "Papa, it is the right thing to do. I cannot ask for a better master or fellow servants. They are kind and solicitous. They need me at the moment. And we have a debt to pay. I will not go back on my word."
Her father wiped away a tear that rolled down his cheek, "I am sorry for putting you in this situation, Rosabelle. Your mother will never forgive me."
Rosabelle took her father's hands in her hands, "Papa, there is a reason for everything and I think this is what I have to do."
"To be an indentured servant forever? Your mother had high hopes for you."
"No, Papa. I am not treated that way over there. The master of the castle treats me with respect and I believe I am like a friend to him. Trust me, Papa, I will be all right."
Thomas Hardy gave his elder daughter a smile, proud to have one that was intelligent and well-principled. Actually two, he corrected himself. He hugged and gave her his blessing. He knew he will miss his daughter but he knew Rosabelle had to leave in order to set her own destiny in life. God knows how he would feel if his other daughter Isabelle would leave him someday. But for now, he will bask in the love of his two daughters. He sent a silent prayer, hoping his late wife can see and smile down at them at this very moment.
11
It was a bittersweet farewell this time. Her father, Rosabelle knew, will be better this time at their parting. Isabelle hugged her firmly, "I will miss you, sister. Promise me you will take care."
"I will," Rosabelle replied, squeezing her sister’s hands in assurance.
Her father hugged her next, "I am so proud of you, Rosabelle. Your mother, too, would have been proud."
"You take it easy, Papa. I want to hear from Isabelle that you have fully recovered. No more long faces. Promise me you will ta
ke care of your health?"
"I promise." Her father vowed and Rosabelle felt more at ease with her departure this time.
She rode on the same horse that took her home to her family and flicked on the reins. "Come on, horse, let's go home to your master."
The horse need no more encouragement. He walked on as if lead by an invisible hand, his sense of direction steady toward the castle. She rode for several hours and soon the greenery became familiar. She sensed they were getting closer. Lucas, she thought, I'm almost there. She kicked on her horse to gather speed and the horse responded at her nudge.
Just then a figure stepped in front of them and made her horse rear up in defense. Her horse neighed in response. She gave out a cry in fright as she could not control the horse. The movement made Rosabelle lose her seating, falling backwards, knocking her out of breath as she landed with a loud thump. Her head hit on the stone cold of the earth. She barely made out the shape of her horse's hooves as he fled away, leaving her behind before she blacked out completely.
When she came to, the first thing she noticed was that both of her hands were tied to a tree and she was sitting against it.
"Ah, the lady awakes." A voice came through the fog in her mind.
She opened her eyes wider slowly towards the voice. Her eyes fell on a stocky bald man. His face was grinning in a sadistic way. He was not alone. There were two others and they were all dressed the same. Highway robbers.
"You got away the last time. Damn, your man drove that wagon through the forest. We lost sight of you then but our luck is about to change. How much would your master pay for you, dearie?"
The White Mask & The Red Rose Page 5
