Chapter 24: Sickness
Even after arriving home at practically midnight, I could not close my tired eyes. All I could think about was Stephen. Stephen giving me his coat, which was still in my room for he had forgotten to take it back from me. Stephen bending down and kissing my hand with utter tenderness. Stephen inquiring about my deep liking towards him. There was too much Stephen and not enough of Adam. The worse thing of all was that, there wasn't anything about the sea or Jack. "Dammit," I muttered into my pillow. My face was buried deeply in the feathery softness, and my brown curly hair surrounded my head in a formation similar to that of a bird's nest, to remain nothing more than a ball of tangles and untamable curls. "I'm forgetting you, Jack. I'm forgetting the sea. And I don't want to. I don't want to!" I banged my face into the pillow in my frustration. Life loved it when I couldn't get myself closer to the ocean. It delighted in taking me farther away by entertaining me with things such as men. Fascinating and dreadful young men.
I lurched back so that I faced the maddening plainness of my bedroom ceiling and breathed heavily through my nose. "All I want is to go out to sea. That's it. I'm not really looking for a suitor, honest. Life here in Port Royal is tres magnific, but it is not what I want at the moment. The one thing I want most I can never get. How long have I wanted to go out on the terrible ocean? Since I was six! And here I am, fourteen years old, and I am still stuck here!" With a groan, I leapt from my bed and threw on my robe. I stepped into some slippers and popped out my room, still surrounded in the confusing smoke of fading dreams.
Being careful not to draw any attention to myself, I walked silently down the stairs, watching my feet and the long hem of my nightgown. Mum must have told the tailor than I had grown a few inches taller when I did not. I only grew wider and stupider. Once at the bottom of the stairs, I stomped to the living room and collapsed face first into the couch. It was much less comforting than my bed, but too many problems were building up inside me that I could not stand any longer. After taking in a couple of deep, relaxing breaths, I sat up and scratched my head, eyeing the darkness of the room in a state close to delirium. "Yo ho, yo ho! A pirate's life for me!" I sang, laughing at the tune. I was beginning to feel very excited and very warm at the remembrance of such a silly tune. Pirates. Jack. Ocean. All the things I wanted to see, but would never lay my eyes on.
Rashly, I jumped to my feet, feeling a vein in my head pulse strongly against my skull. Too much blood went up to my head and I felt woozy. I swallowed and regained my tranquility before finally feeling rested enough to finally go to sleep. But first, I needed to make a quick stop at the privy. I was very warm and I wanted to splash some cold water on my face before closing my eyes.
My jaunt to the living room was a rather worthless decision and I wondered why I even had to go all the way down there to relax. What difference was there in the living room that made my bedroom unbearable? Feeling sweat begin to collect on the border of my forehead and hairline, I barged into the privy, forgetting that I usually had a cold pitcher and bowl of water in my room in the mornings. But that was in the mornings after Maggie had placed them there for me.
"Bloody hell!" came a scream, to my very dazed self. I felt the weight of sleeplessness finally tumbling down on my dizzy head. "Astrid!" I shook my head and rapidly turned around, growing all the more warmer from my inappropriate intrusion. I had blushed far too much that day already.
"Sorry, Roland," I said, my back facing him so he could finish his business. Of course, now that I was in there, I assumed he was done and would have nothing further to do except to pull up his trousers.
"Are you all right? The door was closed for God's sake."
"I'm fine. Just a little warm. Are you done yet?"
"Warm? It is freezing outside, Astrid." He paused and grabbed my shoulder. "You can turn around now. I'm done."
"Oh, good." He looked at me, his face twisted in bafflement.
"Don't you have your own head in your room?" he asked.
"What? A head?"
"Sorry. I meant a privy. Mum and Dad gave you the lovely room that had its own privy, remember?" At that, I remembered that it was so, but because it was just mine, Maggie only left fresh bowls of water in there in the mornings, when she knew I'd need it.
"I'm not doing that, if that's what you think I came here for. I just came to splash my face with some water. I'm boiling." I walked past him and looked for a bowl of water to use. There was a pitcher and a bowl and I poured some on my hands over the bowl.
"Astrid, you're red," said Roland, slightly amused and laughing a little.
"What?"
"Your face is so goddamn red. Look at yourself!" He pulled on my wrist, about to show me to the closest mirror, which was in my room, but I shoved him off weakly, too tired to play his games at such an hour.
"I told you, I was warm. It'll go away." He squinted his hazel eyes at me, clearly in doubt and stood beside me, waiting for me to finish washing my face. This annoyed me greatly. What did he want now?
For a while, I was patient and I did not take notice of his body just standing there, his face looking smug with an uncalled for smile. "What are you waiting for, Roland?" I said irritably. "Go to bed. Now."
"One thing, and then I'll go," he said. Without warning he laid the back of his hand on my forehead and looked up at the ceiling as he made some unknown estimate.
"What are you doing!" I yelled.
"Shut up," he retorted, still not taking his hand off my forehead.
"I… want … to … go… to… sleep!" I hissed, raising an arm to punch him aside. He caught my forearm with his free hand and finally looked at me, tolerating my violent behavior. He took his hand off my forehead and eyed me with cold hazel eyes that made me shiver, even though I felt as if I was being cooked in a pot over a fire.
"Astrid, you're sick. Ya have a fever, sister."
"I'm not. It'll go away. Let it alone." All I wanted to do was go to bed, yet I couldn't even be granted that yet.
"I'm telling Mum and Dad in the mornin'," he continued. "But for now, you should—"
"Sleeeeeeeep," I said, about ready to fall asleep in the privy because of Roland's mindless babble. "Look, Roland. I appreciate that you are looking out for me, but for the last time, I am not sick. Just a little warm. That's all. Now, can you step out of my way so that I may find some peace in my room?" I carried that question out as far as my patience would let me. If Roland said anything other than yes, I'd scream.
And scream I did.
"Astrid, calm down! Please!" begged Roland, trying to stop my howling. But no. He kept me away from my sleep and so he would pay.
"I am not ill! I'm just feeling warm! Warm! Boiling! Scorching! That's all! Now… let… me… alone!" I pointed a strict finger at him at each word I said, and I had become so spent from the sudden energy blast of screaming and yelling, that at the last word, my finger was limp and my knees crumbled, allowing me to fall to ground as my mind turned black.
There were murmurs that echoed in my head as if it were a hollow cave. The words were indecipherable, always coming out elongated and slow. I didn't know exactly why I was hearing things this way, but from the numerous accounts of babble I was listening to, there were quite a lot of people in my room. But why were they in my room in the first place? "Look." That was the first word I could fully understand from my corroding brain. What on earth was there to look at? I sought to find a way to get in touch with my surroundings before actually opening my eyes. I felt so heavy, as if my eyelids were weighed down by balls of iron. Slowly, I ran my hands over a familiar and soft, smooth surface. I was lying in my bed.
Suddenly, I felt a fiercely cold hand rest on my face. I shuddered at the chill it sent through my burning body. Again, I heard more mumbles, as the hand left my forehead and I was swallowed in the heat of my own betraying body. The murmurs did not stop, and to my dismay, I could not recognize any more words. The need to find out what was going on with me forced me to open my eyes just a little, so that my eyelids were high enough to open tiny slits that allowed blurred vision. From my barely opened eyes, I felt that there was some unknown crust on its edges, which was strange because that normally did not happen unless I cried the night before. Left to right, I moved my eyes, scanning my well-known room. "She's awake. Shh," was the next bit of chatter that I caught. Yes, I was awake, and yet they still did not do anything about it.
I widened my eyes when I realized that there were people in my room whom I did not recognize. Closest to the right side of my bed stood a man aged and wrinkly, with hair like pale ash. A pair of spectacles lay on the bridge of his beak-like nose and in his hands was a thick, black case. "A doctor," I thought. Who else could he be? Standing behind him was the frame of a petite woman, with beautiful golden hair fixed into a loose bun. And next to her stood a tall man with dark hair streaked with barely noticeable lines of gray, which fell just past his ears. His face was blurred, but I could tell his face from anywhere. The man and woman were my precious Mummy and Daddy.
At their site, I was brave enough to stretch my eyes open and sit up in my bed. I nearly dunked my head back down when I sat up because I was met with a pounding pulse against my skull, throbbing too much blood, too quickly and too strongly through my thin, brittle veins. I was able to keep my head up though, but not without the support from my hand. "Astrid," said a voice. It was soothing and tame, bringing my mind some peace in its painful state. Whisking my head around to face the soft-hearted person who addressed me, my eyes immediately locked on terrible but comforting blue eyes.
"Adam," said another voice. The face turned away from me, clearly disheartened, and I shared the same emotion as well at his leave.
"You must not stay too close. You might become ill as well." Reluctantly, Adam stepped away from my bed, his eyes trapping my stare again. His visage was still, but the controlled yearn to come near me again was eating at him. I could tell, for I felt it too.
"Astrid," said another. "I told you that you were ill." It was Roland. What other person would have the nerve to say that to me in my weak condition? "Failed to listen, see? And look where you are now."
"Roland," came an exasperated sigh. It was Mum who intruded, apparently sick of her boy's useless chastising. "You were not the only one in this family who has denied his evident illness. Now, behave."
"Yes, Mother," he answered.
"What time is it?" I asked, words finally forming in my burning mouth. I needed a drink badly.
"Almost noon," came a new, but known voice. It was firm and certain, with no waver to signal a dip in his excessive pride.
"She didn't ask you," snapped Roland, turning his head sharply to Stephen, who stood at the foot of my bed beside my brother.
"Who else would answer? I do not think she addressed anyone in particular," he parried. For once, I wanted him to shut his haughty lips shut. Of course, those were the same lips that kissed hand so tenderly last night. Perhaps, I did not want him to shut up after all.
"Why are you all here?" I asked, still not informed of the reason why so many people were crowded in my room, looking at me in my bed dressed in my nightclothes.
"Remember that you and Roland promised to continue that lecture from the Westley residence, Astrid?" said Mum. "Well, on account of your illness, I fear I must have to wait a couple of days until that lecture continues. As for now, we shall depart and leave you to the rest the doctor has recommended." She smiled her brilliant smile at me before leading the horde of people out of my room. Many of them followed after her, she having a charismatic aura about her. But of course, a handful of people stayed behind, mainly Roland, Adam, Stephen and Alexandra.
Recalling on the night before, Alexandra was indeed found in the church before Stephen and I actually came there. Roland found her inside the holy sanctuary, sitting by herself in a pew, looking up at the intricate ceiling hovering above her. I never knew Alexandra was so devout. Of course, that could easily be questioned by her carnal behavior with Roland in his room some long and forgotten time ago. He said she willingly went to the carriage with him, having needed the comfort for some reason. Roland said that when he asked her why she had run away in the first place, she said that she wanted some fresh air, but knew that her father would not let her. Afterwards, she said she spotted a dark figure following her around the streets. My first assumption was Collins, but she said that she never saw his face and so Roland could not figure out if it was indeed Collins still looking for a damsel to ruin. She didn't say another word last night when we rode back home. She just sat beside Stephen, looking glum and bored, every now and then sending a glare towards me which she thought I never saw.
"How are you fairing?" asked Stephen, making a move towards me, but remembered that I was sick and decided to stay in his place.
"It's obvious that she is not well," snorted Roland. I shot a look at him, but he didn't see me. Both he and Adam were glaring back at Stephen, and Alexandra stood obediently by her brother's side, staring at Adam. I guess they already disregarded the fact I was in bed, sick and with an aching head.
"I was only inquiring to see if she was well enough to speak," Stephen replied smartly.
"I am," I said, feeling the need to interrupt the soon-to-be vicious argument between the two. "So you all can stop your bickering before I grow red again."
"Still are," muttered Alexandra, though she knew it was loud enough for me to hear. I ignored her rude comment and looked at Roland.
"What am I down for?" I asked.
"A fever, at least, that was what the doctor said. He said you'd probably develop a sore throat and possibly a cough in the next few days, but the fever would disperse," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I wonder where I caught it from," I whispered, more to myself than to anyone still remaining in the room.
"Or who you caught it from," replied Roland, shooting a death glare at Stephen. He caught it and puffed up in a build up of intolerance.
"Why do you instantly look at me whenever Astrid's condition is brought up?" yelled Stephen. He looked fuming mad by now, but I was sorry to admit that he still looked positively gorgeous.
"Because you were the last person who remained alone with her!" bellowed Roland. There was nothing I could do to stop it. They would fight forever like two lions in a cage. It wouldn't end until one of them was dead.
"Alone when?" said Adam, making himself part of the argument. He would certainly not have any other young man be around me, his darling suitor as it were.
"Why does it matter?" Here, Alexandra came in, her hands on her hips and a malicious look on her face. Taking a step forward, she looked harshly at Adam, daring him to say another word, which he proudly did in the end.
"Because she actually has people who are concerned with her, unlike you," Adam responded, trying his best to remain gentlemanly among a group of boys who had lost touch with the propriety of civilization for just a brief moment. Alexandra's jaw dropped, as if Adam had not insulted her before, and she took her leave at that, giving the room a good waft of fresh air as soon as she was gone.
When she was out of sight, his eyes shifted to the continual verbal assaulting taking place between Roland and Stephen, and realizing that they would be far from ending their curses towards each other, he looked back at me, a thin smirk on his face.
"I'd come closer, but…" he began, looking down slightly ashamed.
"I understand," I replied. "It's good talking to you again though. I haven't seen you in weeks." I was thankful that Stephen was too preoccupied with his squabble with Roland to have listened to my conversation with Adam.
"Two weeks, Astrid. That's all it has been. Though, I might add that I was missing you too. You are too infectious, Astrid."
"Hopefully not physically," I said, only because I was sick. "And how has life been for you? Well? Anything new?"
"No, actually. I saw my father off to his voyage and have been attending some social gatherings in the company of my mother since then. I would have invited you to come along, but I always had to leave early in the day, when you still had lessons with your governess." When I had nothing to say, partly due to my closing eyes, he grinned insecurely, scratching the back of his head. "So I heard you and young Mister Westley had a…"
"Nothing happened, Adam," I sang, anticipating the bit of gossip. "He just kissed my hand as a gentleman would. That's all. No kiss or make-shift romp in Roland's closet." I laughed hoarsely and ultimately ended up coughing. He nodded instead of saying something, and I took it that there was a hint of doubt, and he didn't want me to hear that doubt in his voice.
"I'll be going then. I'll visit you every day until you are better or until I get sick myself. Good day, Astrid." He walked to the side of my bed bravely and planted a kiss on my blazing, sweaty forehead. Oh, sweet Adam. With a nod farewell, he turned around and walked out of my room.
At his leave, I turned my attention back again to the still arguing boys. "Will you two ever be at peace?" I asked. I was surprised that they actually heard me.
"No," said Stephen first, before Roland could say anything. "I helped him greatly on board the Paramount and yet he repays me by accusing me of making you ill, when the only thing I did to you was kiss your hand!"
"Kiss her hand!" humphed Roland in disbelief. "Explain why your coat is draped over the chair that sits in her room!"
"He lent it to me last night," I said, growing quite bored and sleepy with their dispute. "You and I both know that it was cold last night, and he lent it to me to keep me warm while we searched for Alexandra." Roland was at last silent and sent a meek glower to Stephen who merely cast it off with the turn of his head.
"I thank you, Astrid, for finally silencing your crude brother and doing fine justice for me," he said. I smiled nervously, and felt the burden of sleep coming heavily on my shoulders again. It was a good thing too, for I was quite fed up with their ringing voices. If I had enough energy, I would have pinned both their lips shut, but then I'd ruin Stephen's divine face and Roland would sure hate me forever if I did.
Then of course, there was no point in talking or listening to them anymore, for I had become exhausted and immediately crashed my head onto my soft, cloud-like pillow.
He sat beside my bed, looking timidly away, and I could sense his uneasiness. But I knew it wasn't because he was here, sitting beside my bed. What bothered him and made him not act like himself in front of me was Stephen. "Adam," I said, reaching out to touch his hand. It had been a week since I came down with my fever, and the doctor said I was doing quite well. He even said I could roam around and be my crazy self probably by Monday, when my cough had subsided a bit.
As promised, Adam came by to visit me everyday, and has therefore been doing so. The only problem was that someone beat him to it every single day. And guess who that was? Stephen.
When I touched his hand, I realized it was cold, and he sort of drew it back, as if he was too sad or annoyed to touch me. In fact, he did take his hand back and kept it neatly on his lap, away from me. "Yes, Astrid?" he answered, looking at the ground.
"Are you all right?" At that, he raised his head and his blue eyes locked on mine, and at the clear confusion and hurt, I felt my eyes sting with water.
"No," he said softly, his lips curving into a distraught grin. "I'm not." I already took a good guess as to why, and instead of playing dumb, as I would usually do, I let him know straight off.
"Is it because of Stephen? Is it because he was already here in my room everyday whenever you came to visit me?" Adam looked away, blinking repeatedly, and gave an aggravated, hoarse sigh.
"Yes," he said, turning his gaze back to me. "I'm getting quite… jealous." I couldn't help but smile faintly. Adam seemed so goodhearted and unafraid, but here he was, admitting that he wished he had the strong attraction Stephen had for women, especially me. "He's eighteen, an age where young men are already married and he's seeking your hand, Astrid. I don't approve. He knows so much and well, you can be a little naïve, which he can use to his advantage. And I don't know what I'd do if—" I shushed him with a finger to his lips, my smile having not faded yet.
"Nothing will ever happen, Adam. I promise you that. Just like when I had to search with him to find Alexandra, I kept my distance. I know how to take care of myself, Adam. Don't worry."
"I'm not so much as worried about you as I am for him," he said, almost growling it. Ah, so Adam did have a vicious side to him after all. Especially if anyone got between him and what he wanted. "If he lays even on finger on you, I swear I will—" I cut him off again, seeing the need to keep him from erupting. After all, Stephen was still in the house, waiting for Adam to leave so he could talk with me again, the sly dog.
"He already has, and he always will whenever we meet, but as long as he doesn't go beyond showing signs of friendship, I will not report him to you immediately so that you can beat him to the ground, agreed?" Reluctantly, he nodded his golden head of his and became more like himself.
"As soon as you are better, I am going to escort you around town after the lessons with your governess are finished every day. That will show Stephen that he should aim for a woman more his type." He looked at me, his forehead wrinkled. "You don't like him back, do you?"
"He's charming, Adam, as you are. And he is polite and has a very interesting life." Adam began to have that vulnerable weak look in his eyes again and his shoulders began to slouch. "But I think he knows that I can be nothing more than a friend to him because I am four years younger. Besides, I like men my age anyway." That cheered him up a bit and he was back to his heartwarming smile.
"I guess I'll be going then, seeing that you still aren't allowed to mope about the house much anyway."
"You don't know how dreadful staying in bed for a week is like, Adam. I long for adventure and excitement, and I am glad you come to make this boring atmosphere a little more enlightening." His hand was lying on my bed again, and I took hold of it before he could pull it away. "I really like you, Adam. When I met you I thought you'd be just another piece of arrogant sod, but you weren't. You are absolutely wonderful and even my parents like you. You're the first boy who has ever had interest in me." He looked as if he was slightly taken aback.
"Astrid, I'm not the first, I can tell you that. At the party where I met you, did you see the other lads ogling at you?"
"No," I replied, having no clue what on earth he was talking about.
"It was obvious that they thought you were quite a prize, but I didn't see you as a prize just to win. Fortunately, I had the courage to talk to you first." It occurred to me then that that was probably what Alexandra meant when she said that I "took all the attention from the lads for myself."
"I'm glad you did, or else I would have sent any other young man home with a bloody nose." He chuckled and looked me straight in the eye, and if in that moment, he was thinking what I was, then perhaps there could have been a future between us.
There was a brief pause, and then slowly and cautiously he drew himself closer to me and kissed me lightly on the lips. I was sure that he knew very well that he could get sick because of that, but he didn't seem to care. I laughed and leaned forward when he was finished. It was just a tiny pip on the lip and I knew he was disappointed, but at the same time, knowing he had to stay decent, for we were still early on in our courtship. I was too happy though to even think about decorum and grabbed his head and gave him one long kiss on the mouth.