He'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying this. Clara had been stubborn enough to want to walk as far to the gardens as she could. And while she could make it from her bed to the door without help, from her door and down the stairs she needed his arm around her waist for support. He liked the way she leaned against him as they walked and he didn't hesitate the moment he noticed the effort was beginning to be too much for her, to sweep her up into his arms and carry her the rest of the way, taking care to make sure his claws didn't hurt her.
"This is embarrassing." She buried her face into his shoulder even though there was no one to see her. "I can't believe my legs..."
Mr. Andrews was grinning, unable to hide his amusement for the whole situation. "Well, Miss Crossley, we are going to have to tell Norah to stop putting honey in your porridge if this is going to be a frequent occurrence."
Gasping she pulled back and gave him the most disapproving look that he couldn't help but laugh. "That was very mean of you, Mr. Andrews."
A wry smirk twisted his lips up in a dark humor as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Pray tell, what rumors have you ever heard that said I was nice?"
Not having a response to that one, she continued to give him that same look before she glanced around, trying to figure out where they were going. The spring weather had just recently warmed enough that there were buds on the flowers and bushes. He carried her over closer to a fountain where one of the beds had some new sprouts. "What are those?"
Setting her down on her feet, Mr. Andrews smiled at both her question and the feel of her leaning against him again. "The newest addition to my gardens. I planted them last year. I wasn't sure until now that they were even going to grow."
Gripping onto his arm, she walked closer, staring curiously at them. "But what are they going to be?"
Watching her, his face softened although she didn't see it. "Roses."
"Roses? But they are so hard to grow! Where did you even get the seeds?" Shocked she tilted her head to look up at him. As far as she knew the only other person who was able to grow roses was the gardener at the palace.
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I didn't have seeds. I got a rose last year from some girl in the marketplace." A small smirk worked its way back onto his lips as he saw her eyes widen. "I planted a piece of it. My-" Clearing his throat, he suddenly looked away. "-father used to plant that way. I figured I'd give it a shot..."
"Hannah bought a rose from me?" Her eyebrows drew together in bewilderment as she tried to remember the faces of people she had sold her flowers to last year, but it was impossible. While she knew many of the people who bought them, there were many faces she simply did not remember.
Mr. Andrews decided not to answer that question, instead choosing to look interested by a loose thread in his sleeve. Hannah wouldn't deny it, but Ian was doing his best for the first time in his life, to not lie. Which was ironic considering the rest of the situation he found himself in.
"These are my mother's roses..." The thought hit her like a sack of potatoes as she looked back down at the sprout-lings. She had thought they were all gone the day she had come home to find her stepmother had ripped them all out...but here they were. Growing in Mr. Andrews gardens. "I didn't think I'd ever see them again..."
Ian glanced at her and could see the tears shining in her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up quite yet. They are still quite small. And there's still a greater possibility of them dying than not." His voice was gentle, but he wanted her to know the reality. There was a great chance the sprout-lings wouldn't make it between frosts and hungry rabbits.
"No." The single word was filled with such emphasis and she stood a little straighter. "She managed to grow two of these bushes in our courtyard. These ones will grow just as full and beautiful." They had to. They were all she had left of her family now and she wasn't about to give that up again.
Mr. Andrews didn't say any more about it and instead he started to guide her back to the fountain.
"Well look at you, up on your own two feet again!" Hannah paused from preparing Mr. Andrews' coffee tray as Clarabell stepped off the stairs, alone, for the first time in...well, too long.
"I don't know why you're dressed like that! You are not working just yet." Norah paused from washing broccoli to stare disapprovingly at the itchy maid's skirts Clara was in.
"I'm tired of laying in that bed all day or sitting in chairs. I'm more than ready to work again! Besides you both need the help!" The desperation was clear in her voice. She would go mad if she had to spend another day staring out her window or at another book.
"I'm offended," Ian leaned casually against the doorway to the kitchen, a usual bemused smirk lighting up the twists in his face. "Here I've done everything to keep you entertained and yet you still want to-" Shrugging he waved around, "-dust and sweep and mop."
"I've appreciated it, Mr. Andrews. Honestly, I have. But I can't sit still any more." Aside from working on gaining strength in her legs, she didn't do anything and it was driving her crazy.
"Hm," Turning he left to return to his study, leaving her and the other servants to sort it out. Mostly he didn't care what she did. The doctor had given her the all clear to do as she pleased as long as she rested when she got tired. But he was disappointed he wouldn't be spending nearly as much time with her now as he was.
"The shopping! I know today is shopping day I could-" And maybe she would see Gray...
"No!" Norah didn't even send her the look this time. "If you're desperate to do something, the silver needs polishing."
"But she'll be sitting!" Clarabell was grateful for Hannah coming to her aid.
"Yes, I suppose she will..." Norah set the vegetable aside and moved to grab a knife.
"Please, Norah, I'll-"
"Forget it, Clara." Surprised Clara looked at Hannah confused on how her friend was changing sides so quickly. "You can rest all day then, tonight we'll just have to go to a ball to make up for it." There was a cocky little grin on her friend's lips.
"A ball?" Clara had never even imagined going to one let alone knew there was one tonight.
"You haven't heard?" Hannah sent her friend a look of disbelief. "The prince is trying to find himself a wife. The royal family decided to hold a masquerade ball so he could meet all the eligible ladies."
Clara couldn't do anything but laugh. The last place she belonged was at a ball with the nobles. "You can't be serious. They're all going to be titled ladies there. We would-"
"No. They invited everyone. The whole town. Everyone knows they're only extending it to the likes of us because they raised the taxes again and they want to win our favor, but oh well. Come on, Clara! It'll be fun!"
"You girls don't even have gowns fancy enough for a ball. And that's precisely why they invited everyone. They knew none of us would dream of showing up in our rags." Norah could scarcely help rolling her eyes. A ball was certainly not the place to meet a future queen in her opinion.
"But I do have one, Norah!" Hannah grinned boastfully.
"What?"
Picking up the tray, she couldn't help but pridefully puff out her chest just a little bit. "My mother was the queens handmaid. When she got married, the queen gave her the prettiest deep purple gown I've ever seen!"
"I'd like to see you get permission from Mr. Andrews to go, Hannah." Norah scoffed and continued cutting her vegetables.
"We're both going to get permission, Norah. Me and Clarabell. And we'll make sure we get to dance with the prince too. At least twice." Hannah winked at Clara as Norah started cackling. "We'll plan later, Clara." And she hurried off to take Mr. Andrews his coffee.
Clara wasn't exactly sure what to say. She wasn't exactly sure how serious Hannah was being but a glance at Norah again reassured her that at least the older woman thought the whole thing was a joke. And when she made a comment about starting the silver herself if Clara was just going to stand there and fantasize about the prince all day, Clarabell scampered off to busy herself.
"So, what gowns do you have?" Hannah came into the dining room where Clara sat buffing away at the silver and plopped herself down in one of the chairs.
"I don't have any." Clara didn't look at her friend but rather held the spoon up and watched it shine in the light.
"Well, that's a problem." Hannah sat back and quietly watched for a few long moments. "What about that baker friend of yours? Isn't his wife a seamstress?"
"I could never afford to buy-"
"Just ask to borrow one. Don't give me that look! I'll chip in. Come on, Clara! I'm dying to go! This might be the only chance I ever get to go to a ball. Come with me to town. We'll ask together!"
"Hannah, I can't-"
"Please, Clarabell! Please! Just this one little thing for me?" Hannah's face was so eager that Clara had a hard time finding her resolve. She didn't want to let her friend down. Not after everything she had done for Clara over the past couple months.
"If she says yes, I suppose I could-"
"Oh, perfect! Thank you, Clarabell!" Jumping up, Hannah was completely lit up with excitement. "I'll tell Norah and we'll head to the market now."
Despite Norah's rather loud protests on Clara staying home, Hannah managed to drag Clara out all the same. Clara was just more than happy to not only be out of the house again, but also to be away from it and see all the people she hadn't in months. As Hannah pulled her around Clara idly chatted with a few of the vendors she knew, all the while her eyes searching, albeit a bit hopelessly, for one particular man.
"-my granddaughter is about to here now. Cute little thing. Did I tell you about the time-"
"I'm sorry, John, but have you seen Gray at all?" Clara couldn't help but interrupt the shoe salesman who could talk for days on end if she let him. And she had been searching all day for Gray, hoping for even just a glimpse but she hadn't seen him.
"Ah, well, I, um-" Looking suddenly flustered, John looked away and tried to tidy a pile of shoes. But he never did that. There was no tidying a pile of ragged shoes.
"John, please," She reached over and laid a hand gently on his arm. "Tell me. It's ok."
"I-um-I don't know if I should, Clara." Looking up at her she could see him warring with himself. He wanted to tell her something, but something else was holding him back. "It's not right what he's doing to you. And he should really tell you, but I'm not sure he will..." Clarabell stared at him rather confused but there was a sinking feeling growing in her stomach that he had found someone else. Not that they had ever been courting or anything, but... "Look, Clara, Gray is-"
"Oh, there you are! Clara, I'm all done!" Rushing over to the pair, Hannah sent John a look before turning back to her friend. "Come on! Let's go get your dress!"
"No, wait! John what were you going to say?" Clarabell stubbornly refused to move as Hannah tried to tug her in the other direction. Someone was finally willing to talk to her about Gray and she wanted to hear it! Even if it broke her heart.
John glanced at Hannah and then back at Clara. Whatever unstable resolve he had just moments ago had faded away again and he shook his head. "He needs to tell you, Clara. Not me." And then he turned away and busied himself with a customer, determinedly avoiding Clara.
Disappointed, she slowly turned away wishing that Hannah hadn't shown up when she did. Following after her friend she couldn't help but feel even less excited about where they were headed. "How come no one will talk to me about him, Hannah? How come you won't talk to me about him?"
Hannah's footsteps didn't falter, but she didn't immediately respond either. "Because he asked us not to. He wants to talk to you himself." That was strange considering he seemed to be doing his very best to avoid her.
"When?" Clara stopped suddenly and forced Hannah to stop to and turn towards her. "How long has it been, Hannah? I haven't seen him in months! I thought he was my friend! If he wanted to talk to me, surely he would have done it."
Biting at her lip, Hannah's face softened and stepped up next to Clara, wrapping a comforting arm around her and gently pushing her toward's Thom's again. "He will, Clara. Trust me. He hasn't forgotten about you. Men are just...hard headed sometimes. Can't we just forget about him right now? We have a gown to pick out!" But Clara was feeing miserable again and the energy that she had seemed to now seep away. She just wanted to crawl back into bed and dream about never having met the likes of Grayson.