Road to Rosewood

by Ashtyn Newbold

  I could hardly grasp onto my thoughts—they were spinning too quickly in my head. “Where is he?”

  Nicholas shrugged his shoulders. “Gibbs? I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  Another shiver ran over me, making the darkness of the woods behind the property more daunting and frightening than before. I did not like the idea of one of those horrific men wandering the area. Betrayed by Nicholas. Fear clenched at my sides.

  “I am glad you told me,” I said in a quiet voice, trying to sound more brave than I felt. “You needn’t keep secrets from me. I understand why you did the things you did. I know you regret it. The past is not one to withhold regrets from us; it has many to give. But the lessons we learn are worth it, I think.”

  He seemed to be considering my words deeply. Just when I thought he wouldn’t respond, he said, “Thank you, Lucy.” His voice was soft. His lips lifted in a smile, one so genuine and raw that I felt that warmth in my chest burn brighter and more certain. I loved Nicholas. I would never not love him. I had never stopped. Even when he had hurt me, I had still loved him.

  But I kept my lips closed and tried to lock my heart up tighter. I couldn’t let him know how I felt. I would not fall at his feet the way I had as a child.

  Nicholas’s smile lingered, but his eyes grew serious. I sensed he was returning to the place our conversation had started—when he had moved far too close to me.

  “The things I said tonight … I meant every word.” He did it again. He drew closer. The pale light from the moon caught the left side of his face.

  My heart raced. Why must he stand so close? I took a small step backward so I could think clearly. It didn’t work. I quickly changed the subject, hoping Nicholas’s intentions would be swayed. “Do you think Mr. Parsons meant the words that he spoke as well?”

  “I do not trust Mr. Parsons.” Nicholas crossed his arms over his chest.

  I scoffed. “I don’t understand why you dislike him so much.”

  “I can see that you are quite fond of him. He seems to be quite fond of you. He surely takes no effort to hide the fact.”

  “And why should he hide his feelings? Indeed, he is a very kind, amiable man. He has given me no reason to dislike him.”

  Nicholas ran a hand over his hair, making it fall to the slightly unruly style I had become accustomed to. “I do not think he can be trusted.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “But I would only ask that you be careful.”

  “Are you afraid he will hurt me?” It was much easier to speak the questions on my mind when I couldn’t see his face clearly in the dark, when I couldn’t see the golden brown of his eyes and the creases of his smile.

  Nicholas looked down at the ground. “I’m afraid that he will marry you.”

  My ears tingled with heat and my heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

  Nicholas stepped closer again. I could feel the warmth of him blocking the cold air from reaching me. I wanted to step away but I wasn’t strong enough. Something kept me tied to him, captivated, trapped.

  “You asked me to be honest with you, Lucy, and that is my intention.” His eyes locked on mine. “You spoke of regret, of the lessons it teaches us. When I think of the day you left Dover six years ago …” he shook his head, “The things I said to you … there is nothing I regret more. I have learned what a fool I am. I thought I would never see you again. I swore that one day I would go to Craster and find you. I wanted to write to you, but I didn’t know how to apologize, and I was afraid. I couldn’t forgive myself for hurting you, Lucy, and I still can’t. Not until you can forgive me.”

  My legs shook and I felt the threat of emotion rising up. My eyes stung. “Nicholas—”

  My head was shaking and I could hardly hear him. My feet were moving me backward, away from the sound of his voice.

  He took a step closer but I moved back fast, nearly tripping over the ends of my shawl. I wanted to forgive him, but I was afraid of the things he made me feel. My heart was falling from its high shelf, barreling down to the ground where it could be trampled and tampered with. If I gave my heart to Nicholas again he might twist it and break it into even more pieces than he had the first time. My emotions choked me as I stared back at him in the dark. My chest rose and fell with quick breaths, and my legs were so stiff I feared they couldn’t move even if I wanted them to. How many times had I told myself that I would never let Nicholas into my heart again? How many hours had I spent regretting every hour spent with him?

  FIFTEEN

  SUMMER 1814

  We are leaving tomorrow,” Mama whispered to me as she turned to leave my bedchamber. Her dark hair glowed in the orange candlelight and her mouth smiled, but her eyes were heavy. “Late afternoon. Have you enjoyed yourself here?”

  I hesitated. I had never hesitated at that question before. But because I didn’t want to be questioned, I nodded. I pulled my blankets up to my chin to hide my own false smile. Mama had always known the difference between a genuine and counterfeit smile.

  After she gave me a kiss and left the room, I darkened the candles and rolled to my side. Nicholas had been different the last several weeks. He had hidden himself away in his house, working on the property and rarely venturing over to Rosewood as he usually did daily. I had not seen his mother or sister for quite some time—not since the previous summer when Mrs. Bancroft had nearly attacked Rachel and me. I didn’t understand the condition of her mind.

  Ever since Nicholas had danced with me in the morning room he had been distant, keeping away from Rosewood and away from me. I didn’t understand why.

  I had developed a new habit during the past several weeks. I took a walk each morning with Rachel, although she didn’t know the purpose of the walk. We circled the Bancroft’s home, and I often saw Nicholas outside in the garden that his mother had planted, picking weeds or harvesting vegetables and herbs. I always brought my secret note that I had written to him on our daily walks, tucked away in my sleeve.

  I played a game with myself. Each morning I told myself I would give Nicholas the note, but each day I was too afraid.

  The third day, Miss Hyatt was there with him, taking her own daily walk from the other side of town. And she was there the fourth day and the fifth day too. Each time I passed with Rachel, Miss Hyatt glanced up with her full lashes and her long arm raised and she waved with a gloved hand. Nicholas glanced up too, and he smiled at me.

  But he didn’t come to see me. It had been weeks since we had spoken. I missed him. I wasn’t supposed to miss him yet. Missing him was reserved for the other ten months of the year.

  Tomorrow we would leave. I would deliver my letter and I would walk away. I wouldn’t have to stay to hear what he thought of it. I wouldn’t have to face him until the next summer, when I would surely be more beautiful and older than I was now.

  My eyes were growing heavy, so I tried to close off my mind. I needed a plentiful night of rest if I intended to perform such a task in the morning. My heart raced and I heard every beat in my ear as it pressed against my pillow. My stomach fluttered violently. How could I find the courage to do it? Even if he was smitten by Miss Hyatt, I still needed him to know the things I had written.

  I only slept for an hour or two, polishing my plan in my mind, sculpting scenarios of how my morning would transpire. I climbed out of bed at quarter to five, dressing and arranging my hair by candlelight before sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting. It was excruciating, and when the sun came out, I took the note from beneath my pillow and read it over for what must have been the hundredth time.

  Nicholas ~

  I know I am small and foolish and silly and many other unfortunate things. I know my hair curls much too tight, and I know I am much too short, and I know I am only fourteen years of age. But I am quite in love with you, and wish to know if you will ever feel the same. I will grow older soon. In fact, I am growing older even as I write these words, and even as
you read them (but you will never actually read them because I am disposing of this note at once). Even if you never love me, please stay beautiful. Stay kind and honest and good. You said that I deserved the very best, but the only best I can think of is you.

  With kind regards,

  With all my heart,

  Lucy

  My hands shook as I folded the note again, tucking it into the end of my long, pale-green sleeve. I stared into the mirror on the wall of my room, straightening my shoulders and standing on the tips of my toes. Before I could lose my resolve, I walked out the door and moved down the stairs and outside, forcing my steps to be confident and not weak and slow. And though I would miss walking with Rachel, this was a walk I needed to take alone. Mama allowed me to take my walks as long as I stayed on the property. Rosewood bordered the Bancrofts’ gardens, so I was more than happy to comply.

  The sky was pale gray this morning, reminding me of the skies in Craster. I had never seen the sky so dark here in Dover. We always left before the weather turned colder and the sun began to hide behind clouds.

  My stomach filled with nervousness. I wished very much that I could hide at this moment. My chest pinched tight with anticipation. My pulse raced. I could hardly breathe without needing to pause my walk to wipe the perspiration from my brow.

  It wasn’t far to the point where I knew Nicholas would be, bent over the plants. He had come to expect me to walk past, and on the days that Miss Hyatt wasn’t already there, I dared to speak to him. He was always polite, but nothing more. He didn’t laugh. His eyes shifted toward his house and his brow was tight. I wanted to ask what the matter was, but I didn’t think he would answer. He always asked me how I was faring, and I always replied with a simple, “I am well.”

  I could see Nicholas in his usual place as I turned the back corner of the house. My feet felt heavy over the grass and my throat dried instantly. How could I speak to him? In my mind I had envisioned myself simply handing him the note, but I knew at least a greeting was in order. My heart sunk as I came closer. I hadn’t noticed Miss Hyatt standing to the side of Nicholas. Her finger wrapped around the ribbon of her bonnet and her other hand was resting on her hip. She leaned toward Nicholas and laughed.

  I licked my lips, puffing out a breath. I turned to leave, but whirled myself back around to face them. Miss Hyatt could not intimidate me.

  As I approached, Nicholas’s eyes caught mine. I walked faster, painting a smile on my face. Miss Hyatt followed Nicholas’s gaze to me. I realized I had been walking with far too much bounce in my step. I leveled my strides so my curls would stop moving. I felt every edge and crease of the parchment in my sleeve, reminding me that this time it was not allowed to stay there.

  “Good morning,” I choked as I stopped in front of Nicholas. My voice was hoarse. I tried again, clearing my throat. “Good morning!”

  Miss Hyatt raised one thin eyebrow, and her lips pursed together in a suppressed grin. I had never stopped by to speak to them before. Miss Hyatt likely recognized me from my daily walk, but I had never spoken to her or Nicholas when they had been together.

  Nicholas uncrossed his arms. “Good morning, Lucy,”

  “Good morning,” I said again. I bit my lip to keep myself from repeating my words like a ninny.

  Nicholas’s eyes sparked with impatience and he glanced at Miss Hyatt again. She smiled at him and whispered something I couldn’t hear. My heart dropped.

  “What brings you here?” Nicholas asked. He wasn’t smiling like he usually did. He wasn’t teasing me—he was asking in earnest. I opened my mouth to speak, but realized that I didn’t have an answer.

  “Oh, well, er—I wished to help you with the gardens.”

  Miss Hyatt covered her lips with her glove, but I could see the scrunching of her nose as she hid her laughter. Nicholas threw her a charming smile, the sort of smile I always craved to see when I was with him. My heart dropped a little more. He had always thrown me secret smiles.

  Nicholas slid his gaze to me as if the action took effort. “Does your mother know you are taking your walk alone? Where is Rachel?” His voice sounded concerned, but his eyes were shining with amusement. I bit back the emotion that tore through me. This had been a mistake. Miss Hyatt giggled behind her glove. Nicholas was treating me like a dependent child.

  Fighting my tears, I turned toward the long bed of dirt at my feet and bent over, plucking the first sprouting weed I could find. Then I plucked another, and another. My eyes stung with disappointment and suppressed emotion. “I quite enjoy gardening,” I stammered as I tossed aside a handful of weeds.

  “Lucy,” Nicholas held my arm, pulling it away from the dirt. I looked up at him, unable to hide my scowl before he saw it. His face was gentle and concerned, the way I remembered him looking at me when Miss Hyatt wasn’t nearby. His body shielded me from her, so he allowed himself to brush a fleck of dirt from my cheek. He dropped his hand as if he regretted it. “You should go back to Rosewood.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  Nicholas’s eyes flicked away from my face and back to Miss Hyatt. He smiled at her again. Had he even heard me? My heart thumped with shards of loss and regret. Why had I tried to convince myself that Nicholas could ever care for me? I was a thorn beside a rose, a pesky little thing that wasn’t loved and wasn’t needed.

  I stood up straight, brushing the dirt from my skirts. Humiliation wrung my soul dry, and I could hardly think of anything else as I stepped away from Nicholas. His stare broke away from Miss Hyatt and he looked down at the dirt where I had been standing. I quickly patted my sleeve—it was empty.

  The letter must have fallen out when Nicholas pulled my arm back. Before I could react, Nicholas bent over and scooped the letter from the dirt.

  “Nicholas!” I rushed forward and reached for my note in panic. “That is mine.”

  He danced the note out of my reach; his lips twisted in a grin. Sheer horror rushed through my veins as I jumped, trying to reach the note. My face burned at the thought of him unfolding it. “Nicholas, please return it to me.” I tried to catch my breath but my heart was pounding too quickly.

  “To whom is it written? Shall we find out?” He wiggled his eyebrows and tugged at the corner of the parchment. Miss Hyatt stepped close to his side, straining her neck to see the note for herself. I stopped my jumping and hung my hands at my side. “Nicholas.” I tried to sound firm but my voice was shaking. I wanted to run away. “Please don’t read it.”

  He didn’t listen. He was only aware of Miss Hyatt giggling over his shoulder, tossing her soft curls away from her flawless complexion. I was certain my face had never been so rosy. My stomach lurched with dread and panic. Slowly his fingers pulled open the first fold of my note, then the next. His eyes landed on the page and his smile slackened.

  “For you, Nicholas?” Miss Hyatt exclaimed. She looked down at me with a mocking grin. Nicholas’s eyes were still glued to my note—to my words—my very heart was on that parchment. I had never felt more vulnerable. That was when the tears came. They sprung into my eyes without permission, and I finally found the strength to move my legs.

  I turned and ran, not pausing to look back to see if Nicholas noticed, or to see if he had finished reading. I was certain I had never ran more quickly in my life. My feet hit the grass hard and I slapped the tears off my cheeks as I reached the back door of the house. I couldn’t go inside, not like this. I paced in front of the door, trying to calm my breathing. It wasn’t supposed to have happened like that. I never would have given it to him; I knew I would have been too afraid. It was just the thought of being brave that had excited me. I was never actually brave. He had been using me to entertain Miss Hyatt. Their smiles had been mocking and cruel—both of them.

  My heart leapt in my chest. No. Across the lawn, rounding the nearest corner of Rosewood was Nicholas.

  Why hadn’t Mama and Papa decided to leave this morning instead of this afternoon? I didn’t have a place to hide. Nicholas had already see
n me standing by the back door. If I ran inside, then surely he would follow me, and I would cause even more of a scene. I needed to face him. My legs shook violently and my heart threatened to burst as he approached faster and faster. He knew everything. Everything. It was as if I stood in the middle of the sea, balanced on a tiny rock, defenseless on all sides. One movement and I would be lost in the waves.

  My tears were falling faster now, even as I begged them to stop. Nicholas stopped a few strides away from me, my parchment still in his hand. He didn’t speak for several seconds, so I spoke first.

  “I didn’t mean for you to read that. I wanted to dispose of it. I asked you not to read it.” My voice was shaky and quiet. I wiped the moisture off my cheeks and released a quaking breath.

  Nicholas’s eyes were darker today, a deeper brown to match his hair and the darkness of the morning sky. He breathed out and stepped closer. For a moment I saw a softness in his eyes that I recognized. He lifted his hand toward my face but quickly dropped it again. He shook his head as if he were disgusted by the thought of touching me, and took a step back. “Take it.”

  He extended the parchment in my direction. “Take it and we may pretend you did indeed dispose of it.”

  He wasn’t looking at me. His hand was stretched out holding my note, and for a moment I wondered if he would drop it at my feet. I shook all the way to my core with regret. My heart wrenched. “I don’t want to pretend that.”

  Nicholas glanced at me wearily. “Why not?”

  “Because it was true,” I whispered, “All of it was true. But it does not matter if you don’t …” I swallowed. “If you don’t care for me at all.”

  His brows drew together and his jaw tightened. He looked down at his boots that were smeared in dirt. “You’re a foolish girl, Lucy,” he said under his breath. “You are still practically a child! How could I care for you in the way you imply?” His voice was harsh. “The sooner you understand that, the better. I should hate for you to have your hopes up the next time you come here.”