Chapter four.
As they had come to lean against the brick pond containing the koi which Cal had brought from Japan last summer, a slight breeze seemed to lighten all of Rose's senses and the sun cast a beautiful shimmer across Jack's tanned features. She watched the way it's light illuminated the blue of his eyes and the way they animatedly watched the way the koi swam away in the shallow and clear waters. Just from the brief times which they had spent, she could tell just how much he appreciated the simple beauties of the world and that part seemed to be infectious.
"I used to wish to just run. Run as fast as I could and just stop where my heart told me to." Rose confessed, realising just how stupid she sounded. "Adolescent dreams."
"No. No. Not at all. I have stopped so many times just with my backpack as my pillow in a strange place but I've never felt more at home."
"Does this feel like your home?" Rose placed her hand on the brick, and it was suddenly very close to his.
"No. Does it feel like yours?"
There they were--the questions. He asked them with such stark clarity and honesty that if it was lightening, it would have struck her. Probably twice.
"No." She responded, surprisingly easily to the stranger stood beside of her in an eerily beautiful morning.
"Why not? It smells better than the city, I guess."
"It does. The air is wonderful. The quiet is...deafening. You could feel lonely out here even when you're in the ballroom surrounded by London elite."
"I would feel lonely regardless in the middle of those toffee nosed bastards."
The urge to simply giggle came at her and before she could stop it, she pressed the tips of her finger to her mouth and out it came. In a year in residence at Hickory House, how had she wished to actually giggle. To laugh at another person. "You are very rude."
"Tell me it's not true, then. Shouldn't you be defending them all?"
Rose knew that she should have scolded him and probably even dismissed him but she found that been here, rooted to the spot and watching expensive fish swim about a damned pond was the most alive that she had felt in such a length and she didn't give a care for any of it but the conversation which had kept her interested.
"I wish that I could. But I find them dreadfully dull. It's just the same mindless gossip, the boring chatter and the contest of importance. It drains the life from me." She confessed the latter beneath her breath. "So, you're right. I so get lonely when in the middle of a vast crowd in society because I feel as though I don't quite fit in."
"Is that why you married him?"
Rose's head shot up, startled. Meeting his gaze, there wasn't an ounce of humour within his face but a genuine curiosity. Not the type of curiosity one found in the faces of the vicious gossips at dinners or balls but a concerned curiosity.
"Well, well..." she started to laugh, but then stopped. "You do seem to have taken such an interest in my marriage. Painted this picture of unhappiness." Her defences shot up, painfully fast.
"No, that's not my interpretation. That's not my interest."
"And so, it shouldn't be." Rose snapped, wishing to stand away from him but her body seemed to pull her towards him. Not even intentionally.
"My interest is in you."
Rose's delicate body almost went boneless. Her weight felt lighter and her head lightened with it. Suddenly, she was feather light and her heart pounding in her head, she saw the white spots again. Grasping at the brick of the pond, she was suddenly terrified that she would tumble into it. The skin around her eyes tightened as she prepared for a fall of some kind but then a pair of hands came to her shoulders. A seemingly safe place to touch a lady but still she gasped, unexpectedly at the touch of a man. She trembled against the palm of his hands and her breathing started to accelerate.
"Rose, look at me."
She trembled. Under his thumb, against the palm of his hand, against his chest, against his legs. It was a full body tremble that vibrated right through all of her clothes and all of his.
''No. I—I am all right.'' Rose blinked rapidly, coming out of whatever fog had washed over her. ''I have taken too much sun this morning. I seem to exert very easily.'' The safety of been within his grasp made her feel utterly uneasy. It was as though she was a small boat, in the middle of the ocean and he was some sort of lighthouse. Giving her flashes of light. But she shrugged her way out of it, and he took a single step backwards.
"Your interest must have now ceased."
Jack retreated his hands to his pockets. "No. I was simply interested in knowing what happened for you to be this way. To have so many sad lines across your face and so young."
Rose started to speak, but something inside of her clammed up and stitched itself back together. Oh, how the words come absolutely tumbling out of her mouth and never stop but there had to be some control. Some boundaries between them both and there would be.
''There is nothing to concern you, Mr. Dawson.'' The formality came back as her back straightened and demeanour changed. ''I should like us to be acquaintances, to be able to exchange pleasantries and to be courteous to each other, you are after all, a valued member of our household staff.''
Jack swallowed, heavily. She could sense the way in which he stepped back, that he was removing himself from the situation and suddenly, she didn't wish for him to. She wished for him to be back, soothing out her trembling body. Perhaps, it was because she felt safe with him. Safe to be herself, almost. Safe to not fall. Perhaps it was because her husband was still in London and she had been here alone, navigating a plethora of emotions and then, motherhood.
''Right.''
''So, tell me about California, if you would.'' Rose put together the scattered pieces of herself and drew her arms to her middle. ''I hear it is wonderful.''
Jack came to stand beside her, and time seemed to stand still for just a second.
''People are alive out there.'' He told her, with less enthusiasm than before. ''I went to the pier down in Santa Monica. People would be there at dawn fishing and not come home until past supper. Children were playing, and screaming. It's just easy. People are happy; no matter what. There is something just so fulfilling about living right there in the moment alongside that beauty.''
''It sounds wonderful!'' Rose started for the gap in the trees which led back to the house via the dirt track to the main entrance. Jack followed, slowly behind. ''Why did you not stay?''
''Because my heart doesn't stay in one place.''
Rose took her gown in her hands as her feet seemed to fail her for just a second. ''Pardon me,'' she blushed, ''I am terribly clumsy.''
Jack's hand was already at her elbow, almost ready to catch her whenever she would tumble stupidly. ''With all due respect, I don't think you're quite up to walking so far just yet.''
Rose felt the frustration raise within her stomach until she saw the genuine concern flash across his eyes. The way his hand was steady and she didn't shake him away as quickly as what she should have.
''I don't take orders from anyone other than my own physician, thank you.'' Rose raised her chin in defiance.
''I think that he would agree,'' Jack wore a terribly smug smile and she fanned the flames of her anger. This time, she did shrug his hand away from herself and turned to continue onwards to the house. It was his damned direct confessions which had caused her to stumble in the first place.
''Well, I have no need to sit in one place and be decorative for the entire summer.'' Rose stomped onwards, through the freshly cut green grass and with a faster pace than previously. ''Do continue about your reasons for leaving California.''
''Well, well, why am I the one having to answer each question and you answer none of mine.''
''I think you know me well enough.''
''Not half.'' Jack stopped trying to keep up with her and simply allowed her to walk onwards. She sensed that he had ceased following and her feet seemed to slow down to a stop. Pale blue skies reflected in his eyes as he came to rest near her on the slight inclination of a hill. It felt as though she could run. Runaway over the hill.
''Mr. Dawson--''
''Jack.'' He corrected her. ''And I left California because it grew cold. I wanted to explore more of the world.''
That was it. A simple explanation. Rose parted her lips, allowing her stinging eyes to drift across the hills of Yorkshire and beyond. It was inviting and, in that moment, how she wished to be a bird and fly over the top of them all. To soar across the world. Perhaps she was a bird. In a gilded cage. Like a prized canary.
''How lucky you are to have such ambition and means to travel.''
''I never understood why one would wish to stay in one place for too long.''
Rose tilted her head, to examine just how longingly he watched out at the beyond. ''Because some of us have responsibilities to a child.'' A child who had no knowledge of the world she had been born into. A world in which Rose had no knowledge of either. She was tense, self-confidence had fled her some time ago and now she was left guiding a baby. A tiny, feeble and beautiful thing which her husband would discard like the worthless pieces of silver he tossed to the beggars of the street.
Feeling the lines of her eyes growing watery, she blinked them away and suddenly realised just how stark in contrast Jack Dawson and she was. It made no sense. None of this did. How could a friendship of any kind be formed between them when they had no or very little understanding of the other.
''You don't have to settle for anything less just because you have a child. My parents did, and they died in the town that they were born in.''
''What are you suggesting that I traipse my new-born half the way across the world just because of your belief's?'' Rose laughed, pitifully, smoothing her hands across her middle and down her pale-yellow skirts.
''No, no, that's not what I was saying.'' He raised his eyebrows. ''I was just saying that in your world, it seems to be a little stifling. Children need freedom. Regardless of how they are raised. They must learn to be children.''
Rose was suddenly aware of the sun directly upon her face. Heating her entire body. Jack's slow steps forward propelled her onwards, too.
''I grew up without siblings and my Pa would take me ice fishing on Lake Wissota. I fell in a couple of times. The water was so cold, it was as though I was been stabbed a thousand times across my body.''
''That does sound dangerous.''
''It wasn't so bad. Pa was a good swimmer, he taught me when I was about four years old. He looked after me, but I was taught to look after myself, too.''
Rose could only imagine a small, blonde-haired child fooling about on a farm with a father, so ever present in his childhood. Enough so that now, Jack was in adulthood, he recalled the days fondly. Adeline would not have that upbringing; just as she didn't.
''Growing up in society is somewhat different.''
''Duller.'' Jack smiled, as though correcting her.
''Yes, there is the rigid education. The expectations which are set from been very young. From about two or three I was doing lessons and it was almost a competition of who had the most brilliant brain. For men, it is simple. They have to be highly educated and somewhat handsome; if not a high-class tailor and barber can work wonders. Women, we are taught to dance, to play pianoforte, Latin and French, sometimes even several other languages. Finishing school is to train a girl to become a perfect wife! That seems to be the only thing a woman is curated to be. A wife and a mother. It is all that I will ever be and I know that it should be enough, but I fear it won't.''
''There are some things which they should teach you in finishing school.''
''Like what?''
''How to ride a horse properly and not side saddle. Like a real cowboy.''
Rose laughed, pressing her hand to her stomach. ''Yes!'' Her eyes shined in amusement and he seemed to enjoy their laughter. ''Perhaps you should teach me how to ride like a man.''
''Sure! We can go down to the stables right now if you wish and--''
''No, that is scandalous.''
''Why, what's stopping you, huh?'' He was playful. She had never encountered that before and suddenly, her stomach was pulling in a way that it never had. She splayed her fingers across it, almost protectively as though she still had a child nestled within her. Jack sought her discomfort with a raised brow and suddenly corrected himself. ''All right, I will give you a couple more weeks and then we will go right up there on that hill.'' He pointed to the largest in the distance.
''Do not be absurd.''
''You wished to learn new skills. On my Sunday's off, I should teach you a few.''
Something within Rose's stomach slackened then. It was as though a million butterflies were breaking flight within her mid-section. All the tensity of the past few weeks seemed to ease away as though it had floated away to the clouds. And, then she smiled. Slowly. Knowingly. ''All right. Show me to ride like a man.''
''And chew tobacco like a man.'' Jack intimated a cowboy terribly.
He cocked his head to one side to process her; to watch her just move and be, so natural. It felt as though she had started to allow him in a little more, her guard was coming down, although not too much but for now it was enough. Enough for him to be able to reach in, just the tiniest part. He didn't want to remove anything from her, just to allow her to open up; let the barrier down, just a slight part.
Rose's gaze fell over Jack. His eyes were the palest blue and each time he pinned her beneath his intense stare, it was as though she was watching the ocean directly. Perhaps that was the reasoning for the intensity, as though to linger on his watch would cause her to act purely on impulse and it would impair her thoroughly. Impair her judgement and her behaviour about him, as though there was no care within their young lives. It felt almost freeing until she caught rein of herself. To be young and reckless would-be wonderful right now, but there was too much weight upon her shoulders to allow that to happen but she couldn't pull her guard back up to the top, not just yet.
''Teach me to do everything that there is to learn about been a man.'' Rose spoke with steely determination. ''Not a gentleman. But an actual man.''
He didn't hide his surprise.
Jack pressed his lips together. ''I can teach you all sorts of tricks, if you are able to become a quick learner.'' As he revealed white teeth, with his wonderful but wicked grin, Rose found it was absolutely infectious.
''I assure you that I am the quickest of learners in all matters. You have to be a good teacher.''
Jack placed his hand on his chest, feigning offence. She had wondered about this man and she realised that her curiosity was stronger than it had ever been. Curiosity to know his entire story, possibly as much as he wanted to know hers.
''Completely brilliant, my lady.'' He bowed, in a mockery British accent, and she held her face straight until his stance was straight once more and then raised her eyebrows, amused and taken aback by the difference in persona. A moment later, she felt serious.
''So, why are you here?'' Rose gestured to the green of the countryside. ''Why here in the smallest of towns when you have the entire world to explore?''
He smirked. ''I thought that it be best to stop, for a month or so, and I heard that they needed help here. I stayed in Santa Monica a couple of months before I moved on but then I went back.'' He hesitated, as though checking that it fed her curiosity enough. ''How about you?''
She sighed, defeated. ''There isn't much to talk about me.'' Her eyes turned vacant as she gazed out at the sun Another attempt to distract herself. It was the truth.
''I don't believe that.''
Rose nodded. ''It Is true.'' She insisted. She wasn't lying, she felt she had nothing to offer him in terms of her own life's story. It was very—bland.
Jack raised his eyebrows. ''So, let me ask you something.''
Exhaling, Rose prepared herself for another cutthroat question.
''All right.''
Jack pressed his lips together as though in deep contemplation. His stance to hers was completely different. The way his shoulders sagged, the way his hands were always shoved into his pockets or flicking his overly long hair from his face.
''Are you happy?'' Rose blinked several times before Jack seemed to defend his question. ''I see your sadness at times, that's all. I just wanted to know you're all right.''
''Yes. I am content.'' Rose told him, flatly, without an ounce of emotion within her voice, or so it seemed because she knew, in that moment, that if she wasn't a married woman. Promised forever to another. If she wasn't a mother; then, she would certainly become frighteningly infatuated by just Jack's voice, by just his concern alone. She had hoped that he asked for nothing more, because she wouldn't give it. There had to be some barriers between them.
''I see.'' Jack nodded, in agreement but then he hesitated his next words. ''But I have the feeling that there's more to it than that.'' Rose drew a deep breath. He sensed her discomfort and immediately felt guilty. ''I'm sorry I-''
''My father, he left a serious amount of debt,'' she closed her eyes as the words came out. The first time that she had uttered them aloud, and yet there was some sort of relief which followed as she revealed the truth. ''Mother spent the remainder on my cotillion as she tried to find a suitable husband for me. I was introduced to him that evening. We married last summer just before we received news of his previous lordship's death and so within weeks, we were aboard the Mauretania bound for Liverpool.''
That was all that he had to know. It was all that he could ever know. Just as she was about to draw in a large breath, Mrs. Ball's shrill voice cut through the lovely morning and cast a sharp spell across them both.
''Your ladyship!'' Mrs. Ball called. Upon seeing her, there with the footman, she had almost fell down the hill which had taken her what must have been an age to climb up. ''Oh, thank God!'' Mrs. Ball hurried the rest of the way to the flatter incline. ''Mr. Dawson, just what are you doing bothering her ladyship! I asked you to--''
''Oh, it is quite all right, Mrs. Ball.'' Rose interrupted the head housemaid before she went on one of her tirades. ''I was the one who invited Mr. Dawson out to walk on a fine morning. Forgive me for taking him away from his duties.''
Mrs. Ball's thin lips whitened and then her jaw fell open. ''Oh...well, yes, certainly, we can manage without him, your ladyship but should you be bothering with the likes o' him?''
Rose raised an eyebrow at the maid's rudeness. Just because she had served the previous proprietor for several years. ''I beg your pardon, Mrs. Ball, I think you fail to forget your place in this household, also. Mr. Dawson is a well thought of and well-respected member of the staff and I shall not have him thought of any more or less for any reason.''
Grazing her eyes across Jack Dawson, something odd then came out of her mouth. ''In fact, Mr. Dawson shall be joining me for dinner this evening in the main dining room.'' Turning toward him, she smiled politely. ''If you will not accept money for your heroic deed, then perhaps you would accept dinner?''
If Jack was surprised at her offer, he didn't show it. ''Sure. Count me in.''
Turning to Mrs. Ball, Rose placed her hands across her stomach. ''Good, that it all settled then. We shall need an extra place at the table this evening and I assume Mr. Dawson shall eat beef.''
As they walked back into the house, she could only wonder what the Hell what she was thinking.