I know, it's been so long since I've updated this! But here is an update now. I hope you enjoy this longer chapter. :)

Part One: The Words

Chapter Eight

With the change of the seasons came the change in my schedule, and a change in my course load from nonexistent to books stacked to the ceiling. After the first week of classes, when I realized I barely had the opportunity to be alone with my thoughts, let alone Rose, I dropped one without my parents' knowing. The stack shortened, and I found Rose back in my room again. She seemed flustered that first day she had the opportunity to skim through my books.

"There's just…so many of them," she said while flipping through one of my criminal law texts, the words still meaningless to her. "And you have to read all of these?"

I shrugged my shoulders while taking the book out of her hand and placing it back on the pile. "Most of them. Sometimes I get distracted," I said, watching her blush, "and then I skim them more than read them."

Rose sat down on the edge of my bed, a curious wrinkle in her brow. "Jack, do you even want to be a lawyer?"

I laughed, not because her question was funny—but because it made me uncomfortable, as the question of my future always did, and because I always had the inkling that Rose would make a better student than me. She was the most inquisitive person I had ever met. "No, of course not… But it's the family business, you know?"

I sat next to her and we studied the stack of books together, as if my desk was an art piece in a museum. "Well, I know you say you don't want to be one…. But I think you'd be a fantastic lawyer," she said, folding her hands on her lap.

"Oh, yeah?" I leaned back and flashed her my cheekiest grin. "Why do you say that?"

She returned my playfulness, as she had all summer, and pressed a kiss on my cheek. "Because I believe you can be fantastic at anything."

If Rose had asked me to be a lawyer, I thought, then I would have immediately jumped on it and had no issues like I did with my parents. But she never pressured me into doing anything I didn't want to do. So I kept doing what I felt I had to do just to get by and keep seeing her. That worked for approximately one month, and then—

"Jack, what's this about a class missing from your course schedule?" My father barged into my room that day, causing my blood to drain to my feet as I jumped up out of my skin. Thank God I had been writing a paper at my desk and not with Rose, otherwise we would have been caught within seconds.

I lifted my fingers off the typewriter keys and turned to face my father, worried that if I stood up, he would pick up on my trembly knees and assume that I was hiding something (which I was). "I didn't want to worry you. These classes have been challenging, and I thought, rather than struggle through all of them, dropping one to succeed in them all would be a better option…"

Was I a good liar? No one had ever told me I was or wasn't. Being trained as a lawyer, I must have had some ability to at least keep a consistent face and not crumble under any internal or external pressure. Staring into my father's eyes then, waiting for his response, I had to suppress the most debilitating urge to break the gaze, or tap my foot, or something. I watched as he folded the letter he had received from the school and returned it to its envelope. "All right then…" He stuffed it in his suit pocket, calm and collected. "Continue with your schoolwork."

When the door closed, I released a pent-up breath of anxiety. As I stared out the window facing my desk, at the bright blue sky and the leaves changing from green to orange and red, a laugh rumbled and escaped my throat. How had I gotten away with it? I was so certain that was going to be the end, not just for me, but for me and Rose—and she didn't deserve any punishment for our relationship. I would take a bullet for her if it meant saving her from judgement.

That night, after spending some intimate time under the covers, Rose asked me to read something out of one of my textbooks. As I did—something about criminal law trials—she stiffened underneath my shoulder, and I said, "I don't blame you for finding this so boring. One more minute of this, and I think I'll be asleep."

I set the book aside and wrapped my arms around her naked shoulders, nestling into the pillows and resting my chin on the top of her head. She deepened the embrace, curling up on my bare chest, and sighed in contentment. "You won't believe what happened today," I said while she nuzzled into my neck. "My father walked into my room without knocking or asking, demanding why I had dropped the one class. I was able to play him with the classic Dawson lawyer face, though, and said I needed the time to focus on succeeding this semester, it was one too many, et cetera… It worked, and he believed me. Can you imagine if he had found us like this right now? He'd have a heart attack over me having a girl in my bed at all."

While I laughed at the image to add some humor to what could have been a disastrous situation, Rose shifted uncomfortably. "What's wrong?" I asked as she pulled away a bit, and I saw the worry in her expression.

"I don't understand, Jack… What's funny about us getting caught?" She sat up and wrapped the sheet around her, hiding her body from me after letting me worship it for the last hour. "I could get fired…"

Once I realized we were approaching the stressful issue from different angles, I joined her side and put a hand on her back, then said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry for joking about it… It's just my weird sense of humor, I guess. To diffuse the situation."

She loosened up and eased back into my embrace a bit, until we were lying back down and she rested back on my chest. "I really need this job, Jack," she said to break the silence.

I rubbed her back, attempting to soothe her despite my embarrassment and guilt for trying to make a joke of it at all. "I know, Rose… We'll be more careful from now on. I promise."

The fire died down and she left me to return to her room, departing with a kiss that left my cheek warm as the room turned cold. As I laid in bed that night, already longing for her to be back in my arms, I thought of what more I could do to reassure her that we would be safe together, that her job would be secure. Those thoughts kept me up for the better part of the night, and I was tempted more than once to bother her at her door to just gain some comfort from seeing her face, before I fell asleep exhausted from my own worrying.

As the semester progressed, I fell into a pit of my own creation: because I had dropped the one class, I was pushed into an extracurricular I had no intention of being a part of. Some peers of mine had created a pre-law club where they got together after classes to discuss and debate cases, which is something I would find interesting if I had any interest in being a lawyer whatsoever. When my father heard about it from one of his colleagues, whose son also happened to go to the same college, I was bothered incessantly at dinner.

"Why don't you join them, Jack? They could be of help to your law career some day," my father had said while we were celebrating the end of the first quarter. Rose had been pouring out some wine while he had started discussing this, though she didn't seem bothered by it.

"That sounds wonderful, Jack. Won't you?" my mother had agreed with my father as she usually did, and since I couldn't think of anything viable under the pressure ("I want to focus on my artwork," "I want to spend more time with Rose"), I agreed to give it a try.

But this group ended up being more rigorous than I was expecting. This wasn't some boys' club hiding as an academic meeting, these were serious students looking to progress their careers. The session I joined lasted almost two hours. Though there was nothing inherently wrong with the men dedicating their time to this club, they weren't at all the type of people I would seek out to be my friends. I was in need of artists, free spirits, adventurers. They accepted me into the group well enough, even though I didn't say a word the entire time. When I returned home, it was already dusk, and I rushed to dinner immediately, knowing I was in trouble.

My parents were pleased with my time well spent, asking me questions about how the meeting had gone, but the young woman serving us our meal wasn't as content. I had promised Rose that I would be back before she had to prepare for the dinner service to read more of Emma, but I had missed it entirely. Afterwards, I tried to grab her attention, but she flew into the kitchen without a single glance at me.

That night, I thought about Rose, and what she meant to me. We had spent this lustful, passionate summer together, and were trying to keep the flames going with much more effort than before. I sat with that heavy feeling inside my chest: the one that was weighing me down with the broken shards of my heart due to how awful I felt from hurting her. If she meant as much to me as I knew that she did, I'd stand up to my parents and drop the club. Yet, my anxiety acted as a judge in the scenario, and overruled my desire.

We drifted apart that week, and already, I missed having her in my arms. I missed how warm she felt while curled up next to me, or how hot I would get having her on top of me. I missed her soft lips on mine, my finger twirling a curl of her hair, and having all night to not worry about anyone finding us. One night during that lonesome week, I dreamt of us making love, and woke up distraught that those carefree days were over. She made me feel...safe. Without her, I felt on the defensive against the world.

That semester that started in my favor was progressing against it, all because I couldn't deny my parents. Was it so difficult, I thought to myself over a lunch that I mostly poked at, to just tell them that the subject was interesting, but I couldn't get along with the students? Of course anything I would say would be a load of horse shit except for the truth, but I couldn't see any way out that didn't end in some kind of disaster.

I don't know why, but Rose kept seeing me. After that first evening where I missed our meeting, she came to me later that week and asked me what had happened. She seemed relieved to have some kind of an answer, but the hurt I had caused was still there and tender. I wished I could promise her that the club wouldn't be an issue anymore, but I was cowardly. After reading some of Emma that night, she left with the assumption that what had happened was a one time error, and I couldn't conjure the dignity to correct her.

What a mistake that ended up being. Though I didn't enjoy being a law student, I didn't think of myself as stupid, yet everything I had done that semester was marked on some level of idiocy. The late meetings kept happening again and again, and though they didn't always interfere with a time set aside for me and Rose, Rose picked up on what was going on quickly.

"Do you even like this club?" she asked me one weekend while we were walking out in the forest. Her shoulders seemed tense, her posture more rigid than I'd ever seen her during our entire time together.

"You know how I feel already, Rose," I said, which was true. I'd expressed to her many times how disinterested I was in law, yet I didn't show any action towards moving away from it. The less I did, the more Rose's face burned.

"That you hate it and you're only doing it for your parents' sake?" she said, in a slight mocking tone. Her foot hit a pebble, kicking it into the stream we were walking besides.

"Yes…" What else was there to say that I hadn't told her? She was the only one who knew the truth about everything.

Rose sighed and started to fidget her fingers, which were clasped in front of her. "Do you know what this reminds me of, Jack?" Her voice, which had sounded like it was on the edge of rupture, had cooled down a tad.

"This club situation?"

"Yes," Rose said. "All of the time you're out of the house now, missing when we were supposed to be together… It reminds me of when my mother had promised to teach me to read, and then she never found the time to."

I stayed quiet; I was already embarrassed by how ashamed I felt, but for her to open up to me when I lacked the courage to be so blunt, I was on the edge of mortification. Why she didn't break things off with me then, I also had no idea.

"Even when my mother finally did find the time…" Rose trailed off, her eyes glossy, and that's when I was reminded of how we both kept secrets to ourselves.

Arriving at the Hockley household, there were more servants than Rose was used to experiencing. Butlers, maids, footmen, housekeepers, chefs… Rose was swept upstairs to their quarters where a hallway of rooms indicated just how large the staff was.

"You and your mother will stay in here," Gladys, maid to Lady Hockley, said as she swept Rose in with their bags. "Return in ten minutes, and take the back stairs. We're about to take some tea and supper before serving the family."

"Oh…" Rose was overwhelmed by how rapidly introductions had gone with Lord and Lady Hockley, and how she and Ruth were expected to pick up on their work within a few hours of arrival. "Okay."

After setting down their bags on each of their respective beds, Rose fixed her hair in the mirror and examined an annoying red spot on her face. Two weeks until sixteen, and then, maybe, she'd feel less like a child…

When Rose exited her new room to join her mother and the other servants downstairs, she didn't realize, in her hurry, that she went the wrong direction until she was met at the staircase by a man in a clean, crisp suit. "Hello," he said, and Rose froze to her spot, recognizing a second too late that she was on her way to the foyer instead of the kitchen.

She assumed the man was the son, Caledon, who she hadn't met yet, but she was frazzled regardless. "Hello…," she said while taking his hand, a shiver going down her spine. "I was just on my way to the kitchen…."

"The fastest way would be for you to turn around and head straight to the other end of the hallway," he explained, his eyes never leaving her face. Rose shifted in her spot, eager to move along and away from this stranger who was also her boss.

"Thank you," she said with a quick curtsy, and sped off, receiving a scolding from Ruth when she finally did make it to the kitchen.

Working for the Hockleys ended up being a divine gift after they were fired from their last home. Lord and Lady Hockley were kind and considerate to their staff and community, and Ruth made her and Rose count their blessings every night. A month after turning sixteen, Rose was asked by Lady Hockley herself to join her in the library, and she was as nervous as she was surprised to find her mother there with the impeccably dressed woman, perched beside each other. Ruth appeared to be holding back awe while Lady Hockley looked pleased.

Lady Hockley explained that Ruth had confided in her that Rose couldn't read, and she saw an opportunity to help with that, especially with their large staff enough to run two households. "I believe we can set aside some time for you and your mother to do some lessons together. If that is something you would like?" She turned back to Ruth. "Are you certain you wouldn't like a tutor?"

"Oh no, Lady Hockley, what you're giving us is enough as is! We are very grateful for the two hours every week," Ruth said with beaming cheeks.

"Splendid. You can have the library every Monday afternoon from two till four." Lady Hockley stood up to excuse herself to the rest of her socialite duties for the day, but not before taking Rose's hand in her gloved one and patting the back of it. "This will be quite a change for you, my dear, but literacy is the most important skill any person—especially a young lady like yourself—can have."

Rose nodded as Lady Hockley exited, making no comment that she hadn't fit a word into a conversation where she was the center of it.

That week, Rose watched with apprehension as Ruth collected books that she was eager to teach with. Her mother had promised to educate her for years since she couldn't afford school—would now truly be that different?

By Monday, when nothing shifted or came up to ruin Ruth's plans, Rose allowed herself to feel a smidgen of excitement towards learning something she wanted for as long as she could remember. When she stepped into the library that afternoon as scheduled, a couple of freshly sharpened pencils in hand, she captured a gasp at who was sitting in her mother's spot.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir, I thought—"

"No need to apologize, Rose," Cal Hockley said, opening the top book on the stack. "I've reached an arrangement with your mother."

A cold wind blew through Rose's chest, causing her shoulders to collapse. "My mother?"

"Yes." He smirked, appearing more than pleased with himself. "We agreed that it would be best if I taught you, since I hold a degree in business and have tutored in my spare time before." Rose's stomach churned at his vain, teeth-baring smile. "Our family does a lot for this community, and we put in our time when we can… Anyway, if you would sit here—"

"Excuse me, sir," Rose said while taking a step back, the pencils falling out of her sweaty palms and into her dress pocket. "I don't feel so well all of a sudden. I think I should go lie down."

As she locked herself in her room, wondering if she would be sick, she collapsed onto her bed, never having been more embarrassed and confused. Who was this man in the house, other than a son to the kind Lord and Lady? she thought while clinging to her pillow, terrified again by the reminder of his grin in her memory. Why would my mother…?

"He took this interest in me," Rose explained, throwing a pebble into the water. We had stopped and sat down by the riverbed when Rose started to feel dizzy due to the memory. "At first, I didn't understand what it was or what it meant. But later…" She kept her gaze on the trickling river. "It became more clear."

I nodded my head, not sure what the right words were to say. While Rose had been opening up more about her story, some of her discomfort had seeped into me, knotting in my stomach. The more she divulged about this Cal, the more I wished to get on a ship to England and beat his ass.

"My mother apologized later. She said she felt like she had no choice when Cal approached her with his proposition. He was so intense, she said. Domineering." When Rose finally looked at me, she had a shattered spark glimmering in her eyes. "He wasn't used to not getting what he wanted. Not that I knew that right away…"

A tear escaped her right eye and she brushed it away. "I wasn't allowed to learn how to read unless he taught me, and I said no. I kept working there, as if nothing had happened, and that worked for a while, but…" Her voice cracked, and her one tear expanded into a stream.

I stepped in to wrap my arms around her shoulders. "Shh… Rose. You don't need to tell me anymore," I said while rubbing her back. "I understand now… And I promise you, I will make the time. You matter to me more than anyone else in the world. And no one or anything is going to step in between us again."

As she cried, and I realized how I had added to that pain instead of taking away from it, that became the final chip to crack my cowardliness. "I love you so much, Rose. More than I can say," I reminded her as our bodies, once drifting apart, curled into each other and sought solace from the other.

After that day, I kept my promise, and I told my parents outright that the club was not doing enough for me and I was going to study more on my own and connect with others outside of the club setting. But right then, in that moment by the riverside, she rested her chin on my shoulder while she released a pent-up dam of emotions related to a story she'd probably never told anyone before—about a man who I was getting an increasing sense was more of a threat than he was a lover—and I didn't let her go the entire time.