Disclaimer: Bleak House, all characters, places, and related terms belong to Charles Dickens.
Variations on a Theme
Cinderella's Waltz
As a little girl Rosa's grandmother read to her fairy tales…Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel, Cinderella. She has not thought of those childhood dreams – castles, good fairies, princes – for a long time. She is rooted here in reality: hard work, overcast skies, dirty avenues, stifling air.
Yet perhaps now-a-days there are still princes in the world, she wonders the first time she comes face-to-face with Watt Rouncewell. Instead of passing her by, seeing through her as others have, he stops, looks at her and his smile is bright like the sunshine.
The Safest Place
"Lady on the walk… Wouldn't it be something to see her?" the ten-year-old boy whispers excitedly, lingering behind the rest of the tour group.
"No! The thought of encountering ghosts gives me the creeps." The little girl shivers and glances around uneasily.
Instantly Watt clasps her hand and gives it a firm squeeze. "I won't let no ghost get you. I promise!"
Rosa's face brightens and the smile she gives her best friend is full of thanks and admiration.
Blest Be the Tie That Binds
The congregation's singing rings throughout the church.
Like a chorus of angels, Rosa thinks as she sings, chills racing down her spine.
Through the crowd she glimpses the bride and groom. Standing quietly before the alter at the front of the church, they are holding hands.
In three weeks, that will be my place.
She glances to her left and discovers Watt looking back at her tenderly. Color rises in her face at being caught, yet she smiles back at him.
Your Grace Still Amazes Me
Watt waits until the server retires before he speaks.
"Miss Wentworth…Rosa."
"Mr. Rouncewell."
"Please, call me Watt," he requests with a kind smile.
Flustered, the young woman lightly shakes her head. "W-w-what I meant is, I have no family, no connections. I must work for my keep."
"Yes, I know," he quietly replies.
"Oh! You are not making this easy! What I'm trying to say is that are better women than I whom are worthy of your regard."
It is the man's turn to shake his head. "Not to me." Carefully he reaches out for her hand. "Every time you would be my choice."
Blinking back tears, Rosa stares at him, speechless.
"Every time," he states, and lifts her hand to his mouth.
THE END