—- Let it Rain, Let it Pour

The interior Hallways of Heyrick could be quite dim, even mid-day. As Alexander ascended the stairs on his way to the guest rooms, he noted they were especially somber. In the distance, he heard the thunder. A storm approached and from what he heard it was rather a severe one. The air was oppressive and everyone seemed a bit subdued except, of course, for Leonora. Leo was all abuzz with Miss. Heywood being in residence and a big storm on the horizon. It was all quite exciting from her perspective. She scooted by him in the hall on her way to look out the windows, whispering loudly "Excuse me, father." He ruffled her hair as she passed. The familiar, deep colors of the tapestries, wood, and carpets were soothing to his spirit. He was intentionally walking slowly, breathing deeply, pulling all that calm and peace into his bones.

He felt a little unstable, and that was not his way, he told himself. He was solemn, careful, serious, considered, logical, stable, honorable… he rolled his eyes at himself. This is exactly why Miss Heywood was such a wonderful influence on him. He needed someone to make him laugh and take him down a peg or two. So, for the moment, he simply accepted that he felt a bit "not" himself and moved forward towards the guest room.

Mrs. Wheatley had left the door cracked and he could hear murmurs of conversation. Augusta was there as well as Beverly, her maid. He cleared his throat and opened the door a crack. Mrs. Wheatley was sitting on the bed next to Miss Heywood, who was face down with her head buried in pillows. She was in her shift or a nightgown. Alexander could not see anything inappropriate, but he could see that her shoulders were visible above the coverlet. One shoulder was bare. It was no more than he had seen of her in her beautiful satins and silks when she was dressed for a ball or a party, but somehow it was more titillating because of the situation. Mrs. Wheatley was gently rubbing her scalp, sliding her fingers under those silky waves, over her white skin. Miss Heywood groaned with something between pain and relief. Her voice sounded muffled from under the pillows "As soon as the rain begins I am sure I shall feel quite a bit better. Somehow that usually makes the pain recede. I can not thank you enough for taking care of me." Alexander looked away and moved back into the hall. He reminded himself that she was in pain, feeling the sharp rebuke of guilt for letting his initial visceral reaction linger. Mrs. Wheatley answered, "Would it be a good idea to have the kitchen make up some tea and toast? The storm will arrive soon and you might have a bite to eat." Charlotte replied to the affirmative and thanked everyone again. Alexander heard Mrs. Wheatley stand and move to the door. Augusta moved to take her place on the bed.

-"How is she?"

-"Somewhat better, Mr. Colbourne. She insists the pain will improve greatly when the rain begins. I am going to the kitchen to see that they make a tray with tea and toast."

-"Make it for two, I will sit with her a bit."

-"Sir?" Clearly Mrs. Wheatly was concerned he had lost his faculties and was not thinking of their reputations.

-"I will make sure Augusta or Beverly are there." He patted her shoulder softly for reassurance.

-"Yes, sir." She did not look thoroughly convinced.

Just as he walked into the bedroom, a giant clap of thunder shook the house. He noticed that rain was pouring down the window panes. When did that start?

He looked towards the bed and pulled a chair away from the fireplace to sit nearby. Her face was not visible, but he could hear her easy breathing. She sounded asleep. He would wait and listen to the rain and the steady rhythm of her breath.