"You're positive your grandmama won't find out?" Ann asks nervously.
"Well, no," I admit, "But it's worth a shot. Anyways, she'll be beside herself with the Middletons here, I'm sure it wouldn't phase her until much later." Ann bites her lip.
"Oh, come on, Ann, how often do we get a chance like this?" Felicity begs.
"Well, if you're sure we won't get caught," she says hesitantly. Felicity and I give her a giant hug.
"Oh, thank you, Ann!" Felicity exclaims. Ann smiles reluctantly.
"But if we get caught, I'm going to kill you," she warns jokingly. We smile at her.
"Would we ever get ourselves in trouble?" I ask sweetly.
"Yes."
The new morning dawns bright and cold. I am the first awake, Ann and Felicity still slumbering in their beds. I sit for a moment, basking in the warmth my blankets create, and then throw them back. Quietly, I put my boots on and tip toe out of the room so as not to wake my two friends. I believe that I am the first one of the house, save for the maids, awake, for there is a silence looming in the air. I look longingly toward the kitchen, my stomach growling at me in protest of not eating dinner last night. The food will not be ready for at least an hour, I figure, with a glance at the clock. I look around. What can I do? Then it hits me. I shall go for a walk in the garden. Donning my heavy woolen coat, gloves, and hat, I walk out.
A bitter cold bites at me, and I am grateful I have my hat and gloves. The sun reflects off of the snow, making it shimmer. I stare for a moment, enraptured. A wind kicks up, sending my hair swirling in tendrils around my face. I am grateful that no one is up, for I must look a mess. Another wind blows through me and I tighten my coat. The garden is one of my favorite places to be. It always reminds me of my mother. Virginia Doyle. Or Mary Dowd? I've no idea what to call her anymore. Not since that first time, since Miss Moore-rather, Sarah Rees-Toom- read to us from my mother's diary. There is still so much I do not know. Unanswered questions flow through my head. In my absentmindedness, I bump into someone.
"Oh, I'm terribly-Kartik?" I ask. He turns and looks at me, and I see that his dark eyes are filled with tears. This is extremely unlike him. "Kartik, what's wrong?" I ask, moving closer to him. He quickly wipes his eyes and says,
"The wind is making my eyes sting. Pardon, Gemma, I should be tending to the horses." He moves to walk away. Quickly, I grab his hand to stop him. I see that they are ungloved. I must get him some when we go out next. My gloves are cold and I pull them off, holding both of Kartik's frozen hands in my warm ones. His dark chocolate eyes stare into my eyes, softening as I warm his hands.
"Kartik," I say softly, "What's wrong?" He hesitates for a moment.
"Your mother has been gone just as long as my brother has," he begins. "How is it that you've gotten over her death so much better than I over my brother's?" His eyes are tortured.
"I've seen her since her death," I tell him. "I saw her often when I first entered the realms." The realms are always a touchy subject, but with Kartik so upset, I feel that we must speak of them to ease his mind. "My mother killed herself so as not to be banished to the Winterlands. Your brother, however, did not have that choice. When I went into the realms, she was there. It took me a long time to get over it, until I saw her again. And then, when she disappeared, it was hard once again. I've missed her everyday. But I had the choice to see her. You did not. Trust me, Kartik; were there a way for you to see Amar, I would have already acted upon it." Kartik touches my cheek lightly, a smile touching his lips.
And then we are kissing. Whatever cold I was feeling before is gone, replaced by the heat of Kartik and I together. As suddenly as we have started, we break apart, both blushing. Kartik's face is that of a sheepish satisfaction, and I am certain that my face mimics his. A movement near the garden startles us and we look at each other.
"I probably should be tending to the horses," Kartik admits.
"I should go tend to my grandmamma," I say, sighing. We turn from each other and begin walking. I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, holding my tightly. Lips press themselves to my neck, and I turn my head, directing his lips to mine. He releases me and we go our ways.
I walk up to the house, deep in thought. He always leaves me wanting more.
"You look awfully flushed," Felicity says, eyeing me suspiciously. She stops brushing her long hair. "Don't you agree, Ann?"
"Quite," she says. She slips her feet into an old, worn pair of slippers. "Why might that be?"
"Where were you this morning? You weren't here when we woke up." She and Ann stare at me expectantly.
"If I am flushed, it is because it is very cold outside and extremely warm in here. I was the first awake, and I didn't want to disrupt you, so I went for a walk in the garden." They continue to stare at me as if they know that I am lightly fibbing. "Why are you staring at me so?"
"Are you sure that's it?" Felicity asks. Her eyes say I don't believe you. I choose to ignore this.
"I'm positive." Felicity shrugs and flips her hair around her shoulders. Changing the subject, I ask, "Does anyone else want breakfast? I, for one, am starving." Drat those two. See if they get any presents from me this year.
"Serve you right for not eating your veal last night," Felicity says waspishly.
"It is a cruel food. I felt too guilty to eat it." At this, they roll their eyes. We walk down the stairs, talking about tomorrow.
"We're going shopping, right?" Ann asked. Felicity shushes her.
"Yes, Ann. But we're dressing for the theater. Ann dabs at her nose.
"Why? Doesn't that mean that we'll be shopping in our theater clothes?"
"No. You see, what we'll do is we will hide our street clothes with Kartik. When we get to London, we'll stop at a loo and change," I tell them. Felicity grins.
"Little Miss Smarty over here has this all planned out. Excellent." Ann dabs at her nose again.
"We'd better not get caught." Felicity opens her mouth to speak and Tom walks down the stairs behind us.
"What is all this whispering about?" he asked.
"Nothing concerning you," I say, pushing him ahead of us.
"Fine, I can tell when I'm not wanted," Tom gives in. Ann makes a strangled little noise. As far as she is concerned, he is wanted.
"Bye, Tom," I say sternly.
The day is an uneventful one. Felicity, Ann and I spend most of it lounging in an abandoned boat that is stuck in the middle of the frozen lake. Bored with sitting, Felicity and I clamber out of the boat. We stand on the ice, holding each other's hands to keep from falling. Ann watches us from the safety of the boat. She's never been one to take risk. As Felicity's foot slips, we lurch, laughing like maniacs.
"Darling Ann, won't you join us?" Felicity asks. Ann shakes her head, her eyes widening. "Why not?" Ann leans back in the boat. Feeling as though we've gained our balance, Felicity and I release our hands. This is a mistake. We slip around on the ice, losing what little balance we had. We land, a tangled web of legs and arms, on the ice, and begin to scream.
"Cold! Cold!" I screech.
"It's bloody ice, what do you expect?" Felicity screeches back. I catch sight of Kartik stopping along the way, staring over at us. He is bringing the horses on a walk, no doubt to warm up their joints. Catching sight of the look on my face, he doubles over laughing. We try to stand up, holding onto the sides of the boat for support. As we do so, the wood cracks in half, leaving a gaping hold in the side. Ann screams.
"Don't! You'll tip the boat!"
"It would serve you right for not trying to help us," I tell her. She makes a face at me. "Oh, yes, that's mature." We finally stand, and Felicity rubs her legs.
"Oh! My legs are so cold!"
"Your legs? I can't feel my behind!" I exclaim.
"Nor can I, for that matter," she says in realization. How calmly we stand, discussing the matter of numb behinds, when we should be indoors crochetingHome, Sweet Home over and over again. Quite scandalous, to say the least. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolls. Ann looks at the two of us.
"Shouldn't we be getting back?" she asks. We sigh. We should, but we do not want to. Subjecting ourselves to grandmama is never fun, but Ann and Felicity are in her debt for her taking them in at such short notice, and she knows it. Ann's solace is Tom. Felicity's solace is I, and I, she. We trudge towards the house, Felicity and I still complaining about our numb bottoms. As we enter the house, I whisper,
"I know what I can do to make up for this. How about a quick trip into the realms tonight?"
A/N: Hi, CarcinogenRush here! New chapter, finally. (I know, I'm shocked too.) For all of you who stuck out the long wait (what was it, six months almost?) I thank you. All of my faithful readers and reviewers deserve cookies. I'm sure the next few chapters will not take as long to update, because the ideas are racing through my head. This chapter was kind of a filler until I couldreally organize what I wanted to do. Let's just say it set up the rest of the story, shall I? Enjoy!