Ah I can't believe it has been like a week since I last updated! I am sorry for that! Can you believe I completely forgot to?!
Anyway here is the next chapter. Feel free to review or email. I will post the next chapter much sooner than I did this one. Hope you all enjoy it.
Chapter 10: Crying Over Spilled Milk
The next morning dawned cold and dark. Deep boiling clouds rolled across the sky, casting the world beneath into disheartening gray shadows. The wind howled and battered against the window panes, rattling them within their frames, the horrible sound reverberating throughout the entire house. Snow whirled madly upon the gushing wind, concealing the world beyond the frosted windows.
Drowsily, Brielle sat up when the window in her room blew open, banging against the side of the house with a crash. With a growl the girl clambered over the tiny ebony haired body lying next to her and rushed to shut the gaping window.
As she strained to reach the swinging glass panels, the wind tore straight through her thin cotton nightdress, chilling her to the bone. Snow fell upon the top of her mussed hair, bejeweling her head with tiny drops of sparkling water. With a quiet curse Brielle hung halfway out the window before finally snatching the latch and jerking the glass shut. Firmly she slammed the lock in place, wrapping her arms securely about her body.
Hopping from foot to foot to warm herself, Brielle made her way back to the bed. Sitting on its edge she laid a tender hand upon the dark head of the child still sleeping there. The little girl sighed in her sleep and turned over, placing a chubby thumb into her mouth.
Brielle smiled and brushed a finger over the toddler's babyish cheeks before standing and walking over to the closet. She opened the doors and sighed at the contents. Being a practical woman she no longer wore the bright colors and frills as she had when she was young. The volunteer work she did at the local veteran's hospital was no place for lace and pearls. God being practical is so boring sometimes. Not like there is anyone I need to impress. But still…
Pulling out a plain navy blue jacket and matching skirt, she silently laid them across the back of a chair. She pulled her nightgown over her head and donned a clean chemise. Brielle grimaced as she wrapped the corset about her waist and snapped it up the front. Only women with ladies maids owned corsets that laced up the back, and Brielle certainly had no time to be wasting on such foolishness, though her late husband's family fortunes could easily have afforded the luxury.
However, it had been decided years ago that she would have to live outside the bubble which wealth created when the mighty Donovans did not approve of her for their youngest son. Even after John had died Lord and Lady Donovan had refused to assist their grieving and pregnant daughter-in-law. Only John's older brother Andrew had stood by her. Offering her a place to live and using his connections to ensure her safety. If it hadn't been for him she would have been destitute and a burden to Conner.
Now she was settled into a comfortable lifestyle, filled with satisfaction which would never have been proper for the wife of a wealthy English nobleman. Brielle had a well appointed home, a satisfying job, and a loving family life. She had everything a young widow could hope for…everything.
Quickly pulling on a white blouse along with the skirt and jacket, she walked to the door and quietly left the room. Brushing her fingers through her hair, she wove the strands into a loose braid.
"What a depressing sort of a day," Brielle mumbled to herself as she passed by a window.
Shaking her head, she strolled into the kitchen and placed the tea kettle on the stove to boil.
She had never been a domestic genius; her cooking skills had once been nonexistent. Her father had not raised her in an environment which called for much femininity. In fact, he had treated her more like a son than a daughter, furthering her education far beyond the norm and allowing her to accompany him to work. Yet her perfectionist personality called for excellence despite her absolute disinterest in the subject, no matter the venue. Brielle had spent countless hours sweating over lumpy gravy and burnt pies when she was younger. Eventually the result was a passable skill in the kitchen, if not a laudable one. Either way she would rather clean an infected wound than bake a cake.
The results of that morning's efforts were a sweetened porridge and sliced fruit; and it had only taken an hour and a half. Brielle counted herself lucky she hadn't set anything on fire. Setting the porridge pot off the heat she dipped a small bowlful and placed some of the fruit onto a breakfast tray.
Carefully picking up the tray, Brielle made her way out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the door of what had, until recently, been her bedroom. She hesitated at the door, one ear cocked and listening for any movement from inside.
The room was silent and had been so throughout the night, allowing Brielle to enjoy her first night of uninterrupted sleep in over a week. Sleeping in a bed was a heavenly experience after a week of dozing in an uncomfortable wing backed chair. She had removed herself from the stranger's room now that he had regained consciousness. It would have been entirely improper had she stayed; that, and she wasn't entirely sure she could have slept well knowing he could open those amazing eyes at any moment and glare at her. For some unexplainable reason, he made her painfully aware of her own actions. In the short time she had conversed with him his eyes had burned right through her, making her natural shyness multiply tenfold. It was infuriating.
Shifting the tray to rest against one hip, Brielle raised a fist and knocked upon the door. She waited a moment then knocked again. With a shrug she swung the door open and walked into the room. She barely took two steps before nearly tripping over Erik's prone form.
Hastily tossing the tray onto the nearby dresser Brielle knelt by Erik's side, her hand coming to rest between his shoulder blades. He has very nice shoulders… A blush instantly bloomed in her cheeks at the errant thought, though she was careful not to show her embarrassment.
"Are you alright? What happened?"
Erik turned his head and glared up at her face through the eye hole in his mask. Shrugging his shoulders he threw off her touch. "I was merely attempting to flee this accursed place. I didn't realize until I was halfway to the door that it would take me a week to even get out of the house."
Brielle rolled her eyes at his nasty grumbling and reached to pull the sheet he had been dragging with him up farther over his hips. She very nearly had an eyeful of the man's backend before her discrete action sufficiently covered him.
"A good morning to you too Erik." Brielle chirped cheerfully, knowing it would irritate him. "Come now, let's try and get you to your feet."
With a tired sigh, the dark haired man acquiesced to her request and didn't fight her as she struggled to pull him to his feet. Brielle knew his pride was suffering for his body's weakness. What man would wish to be carried about by a woman? With this in mind she made it a point to chatter about the weather in an attempt to distract him from his current situation.
The pair made it all the way to the bed before the subject of the winter storm grew thin. Erik slumped into the pillows gratefully as Brielle tucked the blankets firmly about him.
"That is better now." Turning, she walked across the room to retrieve the breakfast tray.
"I made you a bit of breakfast. You haven't eaten a crumb since you came here so you must be hungry. It is only porridge, unfortunately, I didn't want to upset your stomach."
The shadow of a smile flickered across her face as she attempted to be friendly once again. Even the small crack in her chilly persona made her acutely uncomfortable. The man simply made her jumpy. I haven't felt so oddly around a single man since I met my husband. The thought made her forget her embarrassment and recover what was left of her composure; old sorrow was a powerful sentiment.
Erik simply glared at her. "I am not hungry," he grumped.
"Surely you jest. You haven't eaten in a week!" Brielle exclaimed as she picked up the porridge bowl and sat on the edge of the bed.
Temper immediately transformed Erik's face at her disregard for his words. Too often had a beautiful woman ignored his wishes, ignored him. Brielle, though the physical antithesis of Christine with her pale coloring, was an easy outlet for the agony of his broken heart.
"I said I wasn't hungry!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs, flinging out a hand and knocking the bowl from her hands. The porridge splattered across her clean skirts when the bowl turned over into her lap.
A moment of shocked silence followed his hasty action. Brielle raised a hand to cover her gaping mouth as she stared down at the mess now covering her clothing. Erik took a breath to continue his tirade but the unexpected hurt in her normally calm eyes stayed his words.
He had not thought before he struck out, his temper and emotional anguish dictating his actions. But now as Brielle's wide eyes grew bright with frustrated tears, a sneaking twinge of guilt curled within the pit of his stomach. Her cool demeanor was deceiving; under the layers of serenity she was a tired young girl. Her exhaustion was making her emotional.
Erik opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Brielle silently rose from the edge of the bed clasping the porcelain bowl in a white knuckled grip.
She stood rigidly, her eyes blinking back tears, a slight tremble visible in her bottom lip. Several seconds passed before the shock began to wear off, the change in her features frighteningly drastic.
Slowly a furious red flush climbed up her pale throat, staining her cheeks a vivid crimson. The hurt in her eyes disappeared like a shadow in sunlight but unexpectedly the ice did not freeze her features into a mask of calm. Instead, raw, unadulterated fury fired her eyes into molten steel. She had officially lost her temper.
Brielle slowly turned those burning eyes to the man lying upon the bed. At her sides, both her hands balled into fists as her gaze skimmed over his wary features. In one fluid movement she turned and slammed the bowl back onto the waiting tray. The force of her movements rocking the small end table until Erik was sure it would break apart.
Whirling about, Brielle took one threatening step towards the bed her lips drawing back from her teeth with a growl. "You…you…wool headed lummox…flea bitten son of a bitch! How dare you, monsieur, treating me so horribly. What gives you the right to lay there and curse my every action when all I have done since meeting you was treat you with the utmost respect? I have put up with your pouting and your waspish lip, I have gone days without sleep only to be treated worse than an animal. I even suffered through your fever induced violence without one word of complaint!" she finished, gesturing wildly at the bruise covering her one eye. I worked for over an hour on that damned porridge!
As the words poured out of her mouth, the level of her voice rose to a shout, her lilting accent blurring her speech with agitation.
"No good deed goes unpunished, so from now on I will no longer act as your whipping boy!" she growled, leaning forwards and stabbing Erik in the chest with one finger.
"Take one step out of line, utter one unsavory word and you will receive just what you deserve! A good boot in the behind!"
Turning on her heel, she stormed across the room and out the door, slamming it behind her so hard that several pictures jumped off the wall and smashed to the ground. Erik was left dazed in the wake of her fury. Her temper was completely unexpected, due to her normally calm demeanor. Still waters run deep…
Brielle swept through the house, her braid swinging wildly at her every step. Her heart was still racing with the anger coursing through her veins. I can't believe I blew up like that. I haven't gotten so angry in years! But sure if that man didn't deserve it! I have never met a more aggravating human being than him… Slowing her steps, she opened the door to the room she was temporarily using. She closed it quietly behind her and made a beeline to the closet to don a clean outfit. She hadn't even begun to undress when a sleepy childish voice broke the early morning silence.
"M-Momma, who were y-you y-yelling at?" The question was spoken with clear but stuttering English.
Turning from the closet, Brielle's tight lipped expression melted into an affectionate smile when her eyes fell upon the child just then sitting up on the bed. The little girl's smooth black hair was sticking up at odd angles and her cherub cheeks were still rosy from sleep.
"I am sorry I woke you, love. Momma wasn't yelling at anyone." The little girl stared at Brielle with surprisingly incredulous gray eyes. She was incredibly sharp, despite being the tender age of three and a half.
"Were y-you s-shouting at the s-sleeping man?" the child asked as she tumbled out of bed and trotted over to her mother, her thumb rising to her mouth.
Brielle huffed as she removed her dirty jacket and skirt. "Aria, how many times did I ask you not to go into Momma's old room?"
"Lots," Aria mumbled around her thumb as she rubbed at her still sleepy eyes. "B-But I didn't go in…"
"Oh you didn't did you? Then how do know about 'the sleeping man'?" Brielle asked as she pulled out a warm gray cotton dress.
"I d-dreamed about him last n-night," the toddler said as she popped her thumb out of her mouth. "Can I w-wear my pink d-dress today?"
Brielle froze in the middle of buttoning up the front of her dress. "What do you mean, love?"
Aria flashed a wide smile, showing off the hole where she had recently lost a tooth. "I f-forget," she said absently as she grabbed hold of Brielle's skirts and swished them back and forth. "M-May I please w-wear the pink dress!" she whined, having already grown bored with current conversation.
With a sigh Brielle nodded, eliciting an ecstatic squeal from her daughter. Aria ran over to her dresser and pulled a drawer open, taking the dress out and pulling it clumsily over her head. Quickly, Brielle captured the struggling child and helped pull her tiny arms through the correct holes with a practiced ease.
"M-may I play on the p-piano today?" Aria asked as she spun about the room, watching her frilly skirt twirl about her knees.
"Yes, but please wait until after lunch," Brielle said absently, walking towards the door as she finished buttoning her dress.
"M-May I go and s-say hello to the sleeping m-man?" the little girl asked coyly, having waited till Brielle was distracted by her buttons before asking.
"Ye…No! No you may not! He is a mean, mean man. You wouldn't like him at all," Brielle stated firmly, a bit of her earlier anger creeping back into her voice.
Aria pouted in silence, her dark brows drawing down dramatically over her large gray eyes. "B-but you told m-me to be nice to everyone!"
"We can make an exception in this case. Arianna, stop testing me on this. I already said no!"
"B-but he is v-very sad M-Momma. Like y-you are about P-Poppa. M-Maybe that is w-why he is m-mean!"
Brielle froze in her tracks and turned slowly to stare down at her daughter as the little girl skipped ahead of her into the kitchen. Her daughter had always had an innate sense about certain situations or people, but as the years had passed, her random instances of insight had grown more and more frequent. Aria may possess her late father's coloring but it was becoming apparent that she was most definitely her mother's daughter.
"In any case he is a nasty person and momma might have to yell at him some more. So you still are not allowed to go and bother him, Aria."
"Okaaay!" Aria sang out, her attention now fixed upon the pieces of apple on the counter.
Unfortunately, Brielle did not share her daughter's amazing talent to forgive and forget. She instead had the ability to hold tenaciously onto a grudge for years. As she sat and watched Aria munch down her breakfast, Brielle stewed over Erik's earlier actions. Sad my butt…I can recognize a brute when I see one. And until he apologizes I will treat him with as much respect as he has been giving to me!