Chapter:
John Smith was walking down the hall from his class when he saw her, she was a blonde vision, with a slightly swollen stomach. He hurried his steps when a student bumped into her.
"Are you alright Ms.?" He asked catching her arm as she stumbled. She smiled at him, and something stirred.
"I'm fine Sir. The boys may be a bit careless, but they wouldn't hurt me on purpose." She assured him. He smiled.
"That's true, but a vision like you should be resting. If you were my wife I wouldn't have you moving about this far along." He murmured. She paled slightly.
"My husband is deceased, and my Aunt has been trying to limit me to bed Mr." She replied, her voice going slightly stiff. His eyes widened.
"Oh. I'm so sorry. I'm Professor John Smith." He introduced himself, feeling like an ass. She smiled.
"I'm Rose Tyler-Harkness, and I'm assisting my Aunt as matron." She introduced herself in return. Something else stirred in him at her name, and one of his dreams flashed before his eyes. A cheeky blonde, who he loved with all his hearts. A blonde he's lost to something, he couldn't remember. His grip tightened on her arm slightly, taking on a possessive tint.
"If I may, I could escort you to the infirmary." He suggested. She smiled again; unaware of the turmoil his mind was in.
"That would be wonderful Mr. Smith." She replied. He grinned.
"Call me John." He insisted and he smile widened.
"In that case, you may call me Rose." She replied and he grinned wider.
"Fantastic Rose. I hope I am not being to forward in asking, but how did your husband pass?" He asked. He smile faded as they walked.
"It was an accident. I really don't wish to talk about it." She replied, he nodded, understandingly.
"Of course. I apologize for bringing up such painful memories." He replied. She nodded.
"Professor Smith!" A voice called. John and Rose stopped and he turned to see The Maid Martha running down the hall. She looked worried.
"Mrs. Harkness, You're not supposed to be out of bed, what if you faint again?" Martha panted as she caught up, looking at Rose. The Blonde blushed.
"I am fine Martha. You even checked me yourself." She replied. John looked in between the two, amused for some reason.
"I see you two know each other." He observed. Martha turned to him wide eyed; as if she had just registered he was there, even though she had called his name first.
"Everyone knows Ms. Rose. She is Matron Redfern's niece." She replied respectfully before turning to Rose. "I beg your pardon Ms., But you are almost due. It would be better if you followed the Matron's and the Headmaster's request and limited your movement." She pointed out. John chuckled.
"Ms. Jones, I do believe nothing could keep our Rose still very long. She looks to be a very spirited girl." He informed her, Martha darkened.
"Of course sir. Ms. Rose I do believe I have to return to my duties." She murmured, leaving. Rose smiled at her retreating back.
"Martha is a dear; she has been keeping a close eye on me. Perhaps she's lost a child to being overactive, the poor dear." She murmured, continuing her path. John jogged slightly to catch up with her.
"Maybe, or maybe she just likes you." He chirped, opening the door for her. She blushed slightly.
"Thank you. She murmured, before entering the infirmary. John grinned widely.
"No thank you Ms. Rose. I'll check in on you later." He murmured in reply. Rose grinned at him before the door clicked shut. Joan watched the proceedings between her niece and the teacher and smiled slightly to herself. John Smith was handsome, and he was exactly was her widowed niece needed. Rose was a true lady, and ladies didn't need to raise children alone.
"I see you've met Professor Smith." She murmured, coming over to her niece. Rose's cheeks darkened and Joan smiled.
"I see." She teased slightly. Rose turned away.
"Do you need anything done?" She asked quietly. Joan shook her head.
"Not at the moment. The children haven't had many problems today." She replied. Rose nodded and sighed. Joan smiled.
"Why don't you sit in the courtyard and have some tea?" she asked. Rose grinned slightly at her caring.
"I think I will." She murmered,leaving again.
John looked at himself in the mirror. His face was covered in water, and his eyes were confused. He knew Miss Rose. He knew he did. Why had he dreamed of her before he met her? Why was she haunting him. His head hurts, it felt like something, someone was trying to come forward and all it wanted to do was hold Rose. To tell her nothing would ever separate them again, and to ask her why she had lied. Why she had told him her mother was the one pregnant. He didn't know why he wanted to say these things, but he did and it bothered him.
Rose was a gentelwoman and she didn't need to be insulted by his outlandish dreams. She didn't need to hear words that questioned her fidelity to her deceased husband. There was no possible way the child she carried was his, and yet he felt possessive of it and her. They were his family, his child and soon to be wife. It was outlandish and preposterous, considering he had just met the girl, but he loved her already. He dried his face and set out to find her, intent on starting a relationship and requesting that she attend the informal dance with him.
