It was a dark, cold night. Ray was closing the clinic after another long day when he spotted Rosalind walking coming down the road towards him.

"Oh, hello. How are you?" He said, smiling softly.

She smiled back, but her smile was cold. He knew she didn't mean to seem so frigid; and yet every time he saw her, all she had for him was a stiff smile and an insincere greeting. He didn't blame her. He blamed how she was raised. Being a high society girl meant she had to be perfectly beautiful, perfectly poised and perfectly good.

Really, she was all of those things, but there wasn't a bit of warmth in her.

"I am fine. Thank you so much for asking. You are looking well. It is a splendid night, is it not?" she said, as if rehearsing from a script.

"Do you need something? We just closed the clinic, but I could always open it back up."

She bit her lip slightly. "I have a problem. It's not a medical problem, you understand. It's…personal."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes. Of course I am." From the way she nervously shook and wrung her hands in her coat, he could tell she was lying. "I am extraordinarily all right, thank you. I hope you are doing just fine as well. Because I am…all right…"

"Would you like to come inside?" He said.

Her eyes widened. "I would not think to intrude on you like that! No, no. Forget it. I am simply being a silly girl. I will return home at once."

She turned her back towards him.

"I can tell something is wrong," he said. "You're not very good at hiding it. It's cold, so you better come inside or you'll catch a cold. And then you would really need to come to the clinic."

She turned hesitantly, sucking her lip. "Ah, yes, I suppose. Thank you very much. This is a very kind thing you do for me. I shan't forget it."

He winced at her words. She still sounded as if she were reading from a pompous script. Even still, he opened the door, his smile unwavering, and gestured for her to come in.

"Ladies first," he said. "Isn't that how you rich people do it?"

"Yes, I believe it is." She began through the door, stopping briefly to look back at him. "You're such a gentleman."

"Well, I like to think of myself as more of a humble man."

Once they were inside, he helped take off her heavy fur coat. Then he had her to sit in a chair in front of the fire. She curtsied deeply and thanked him.

Sitting there with the light of the fire upon her face, he could scarcely believe how pale and pretty she was. Her blue hair fell behind her, glimmering in the light.

He stared until she gave him an odd look, at which point he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Um, ah, can I get you something to drink?" He said. "Or eat?"

She wrapped her arms around her chest, as if to warm herself against a sudden chill. "You know, I should be eating at home right now." Her voice was low and husky. "Daddy had planned something special tonight."

"Do you want to tell me why you're here instead?"

She lowered her head, staring blankly into the fire and didn't answer him.

After a moment of awkwardness, he said. "Ah…I'll get you some hot chocolate. I bet you would like that, right? Yes. It will warm you right up. And I wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

He scurried into the kitchen and tried to find a cup and bit of cocoa. His mother and sister had left the place a mess. They always expected him to clean up after them, and they never bothered to offer to help him clean up, either. It was always him doing the chores.

He sighed and proceeded to do some quick tidying up before he did anything else. It was hard; especially since his mother would just throw her medical instruments anywhere they landed, including the kitchen counter.

It was a blessing that they were out of town that night, especially with Rosalind in the other room. He could hear what Alicia would say if she knew.

"All that money, and she can't even spare a gold for a fortune. How is a woman supposed to work in this town? But that's how the rich are…all of them are misers. I predict misfortune in her future."

Behind him, he heard a gentle noise. It shook him completely from his thoughts.

He turned to find himself face-to-face with Rosalind. They were too close together for his comfort. He made a strangled noise and jumped back.

"I'm making your drink right now!" He said.

"I can help," She said. "Not that I have ever really done this before but…perhaps you could teach me? I mean, if you wish to…"

"Of course I can."

From the way Rosalind eyed the stove, Ray seriously wondered if she had ever even been in a kitchen before.

"Here's the cocoa," he said, and he held up a tin of it.

She stared at the brown powder. "And you mix this with water?"

"Sure. And then all you have to do is heat the water up."

She stood aside as he took a pot from a cabinet, filled it with water, and proceeded to heat it up. "And then you just wait for it to start boiling," he said.

She watched all of his movements curiously, her head tilted slightly.

"I wish I knew how to cook," she said. "But nobody has bothered to ever to teach me. And Cecilia is always the one cooking our meals…"

"I could help you learn."

"Could you? That would be wonderful! I've always wanted to know…or perhaps you could come cook for me?"
Perhaps it was the light-heartedness of the moment or his nervousness that possessed him to say what he said next. "You mean like a house-husband?"

She blushed hotly. "No, no, no. I didn't mean to—that would be improper and…improper!" She chocked off the words.

At her overreaction, he began to laugh. When he noticed her hurt look, he stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I wasn't laughing at you."

"I really do say such stupid things sometimes, don't I? I wish I were as adept at social situations as some of the other ladies. Unfortunately, I am quite unskilled." She sighed. "Sometimes I wish I could just crawl under a rock."

"No, you're not. I don't know where you got it in your head that you were anything but perfect."
Her face brightened. She wasn't smiling yet, but she seemed on the verge of it. "Truly?"

"You really are. I've always thought you were. I can't think of one thing wrong about you."

"But daddy is always telling me I am not quite poised enough…especially compared to my mother. I wish I could meet her standards. She really was a delightful woman. Or so I hear."

"But you're not your mother. You're you. And you're the most perfect Rosalind I know."

She smiled. This time, he was delighted to see that her smile was wide, warm and genuine. There was never a moment when she had been more beautiful.

Before anything else could be said, the water boiled.

"Allow me," she said, rushing over.

"Just turn the burner off and pour the cocoa in."

She did as she was told, spilling cocoa powder all over her front.

"Rosalind, I am so sorry—" he began.

She began to laugh. It was not a polite and proper laughter; no, it was loud and raucous. "Oh please. It's just a silly dress. I can get another anywhere."

"But it looks like your best one…"

"It is. But that's not important at all. Now, let's get some hot cocoa, shall we?"

He nodded and poured them both a mug. Then he led her back to the room with the fire. They sat on the ground in front of the warm hearth, sipping their drink.

"You are an exquisite chef," she said. "I've always admired how you manage to keep up after both your sister and mother. No offense meant, but I've always found your sister to be a bit…"

"Messy?"

She giggled. "The word I was going for was 'crass'."

He shrugged. "That's Alicia for you. She's never been one for order and neatness. She'd rather do what she wants, when she wants. It's why she and mother butt heads so often."

"So I've heard. Not that I'm into gossip, mind you, but I have overheard the talk…"

"It's all right. It's hard to miss it."

"I had a reason for coming here," she said distantly.

"You don't have to tell me," he said. "I wasn't going to ask."

"Well, I want to tell you." She stared into the flames. "Daddy has been trying to marry me off lately. It's the destiny of my ladies of my station…or so he says."

"And you don't want to marry?"

She glanced back at him. "No, marriage is a fine institution. It's just...Daddy says I have these ridiculous girly notions of marrying for love. He says that's not what marriage is about. But I want it to be. I want a man to sweep me off my feet and take me away to a glorious place where we'll live together forever." She cut off and looked embarrassed. "Ah, not that it will ever happen."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"Yes, well, daddy had planned a feast tonight and he invited a young noble. I know what he has planned, and I don't like it, which is why I'm here."

"Your dad is going to be out looking for you if you're not there, though."

"I know. But I don't want to go to his feast. I don't want to marry that man. I want love. I want romance." She was on the brink of tears. "But daddy will never allow that. It's always 'proper' this and 'money' that. Why can't I just ever have a bit of…happiness?"

"Rosalind…"

"Yes?"

He touched her hair. Her back went stiff and her eyes became wide.

"I could make you happy. I mean, I'm not very rich. But I do know what love is and I think I love you very much."

"That's all I ask." She smiled widely, and kissed him.

He was shocked, at first, but found himself returning the gesture.

"Ray," she said softly. "Do you mind if I stay a while longer?"

"Of course not," he said.

As the night outside because colder, inside they were warm and happy as could be.

XXX
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