Thank you so much for the reviews-I love reading every one of them!
Ch. 15
Erik pulled the black hood of his cloak up to better hide his face. Even though he had already made certain that any servants who could not stomach the sight of his mask or would not hold their tongue in gossip had already been released from employment, he could not help but to feel self-conscious anyway.
It was one of the reasons why he attempted to shield every inch of himself from sight, and the other had been because of the frigid drops of ice and rain that stung his skin. He trudged through the mud and wet grass further, ignoring the fact that the slush was clinging to his shoes and even dirtying the edges of his dress-pants, until he had reached the stables.
Off into the distance in nearly every direction, he could see the huddled forms of his servants wrapped tightly in thick clothing in an attempt to both stay warm and search for Estella. Marguerite Thorson had suggested that a few of them search the forest, though Erik felt it hopeless, as there was an overabundance of trees surrounding the estate that stretched for miles, and if his wife had truly left permanently then she would choose not to be found.
Still, he felt the fear and dread in the pit of his stomach as he prepared himself before opening the door to his stables.
Inside, the heat gave his skin a bit of relief, and he quickly closed the door to prevent the rain from coming in.
Erik searched the stalls but could only find the majority of his horses either sleeping or lazily eating, as if they did not have a care in the world. All of them except for Cesar were accounted for, and he cursed under his breath at the thought that Estella had taken Cesar with her. If his beloved horse was never to be found again then he would find a way to make her pay for it.
He questioned the few servants in the stables that he could find, and save for one boy telling him what he already knew-that Estella had taken Cesar out for a ride earlier in the day-he had learned nothing.
Deciding it best to continue his search outside, he grasped the cold knob with his hand and prepared himself for the terrible weather that he would once again become vulnerable to.
The rain outside was now pouring, and the wind was so fierce that he could hardly see much distance ahead of him without regretting the pain of the cold rain that would follow upon lifting his head.
After nearly twenty more minutes of fighting against the elements, he was growing tired and too cold to persevere much longer, and the thought of going inside to sit by a warm fire was more than welcoming.
It was obvious that Estella did not wish to be found, and he would be forced to cut his losses. Brooding about the loss of Cesar did not appeal to him, but then again neither did participating in a hopeless search in frigid temperatures either.
On his way back toward the estate, however; Marguerite Thorson could be seen sprinting in his direction.
"Sir! Sir! Wait!" she called out in despair.
She picked up her skirts and tried to run faster, her legs burning and her face chapped from the wind.
Erik stopped and brought his hand up to his eyes to shield himself as he watched her come to a halt in front of him to place her hands on her knees and catch her breath. He could not help but to feel alarmed by her terrified and urgent demeanor.
A thick blanket of rain cascaded around them, and when she had looked up, he saw the horror in her eyes. For a brief moment, he had to wonder if his mask had accidentally come off, and thereafter reassure himself that it hadn't, for he had never seen such fear in another person, except for when they were looking at his face.
"The horse...the horse was found!" she gasped in between breaths.
"Where is he?" Erik demanded, thankful that Cesar had at least returned to him.
Marguerite pointed a trembling finger in the direction of the stables, which were behind her.
"He is alright. They are taking care of him."
Erik nodded his head, feeling the relief that came from the news. If Cesar had been harmed or fallen ill then he would never have forgiven Estella.
"They found him...over there..." she pointed to a thicket of trees not far from the two of them. "He was whinnying and reluctant to follow us."
Erik wondered why Cesar would have been behaving that way, for it was not in the animal's nature to be stubborn. He was normally a horse to enjoy attention from others, and if someone should call to him then he was always quick to respond.
To make matters worse, both he and Marguerite turned to see Mr. Matthews emerge from that very same grove of trees, yelling and pointing at them. The two of them could not make out what he was saying, as the rain hitting the icy ground with the wind was overpowering to their ears, but they quickly headed towards him.
Erik was beginning to feel remorse for his formally-calloused attitude in regards to Estella's disappearance, and he genuinely began to worry for her. Perhaps she had not run away, after all, and he had wasted valuable time that he could have searched for her earlier? Was she injured, or had she become ill in this weather? Or perhaps worse...he shuddered to think it.
He forced his cold and aching legs into a panicked run, and soon he had reached Mr. Matthews, who by now had drawn the attention of a few of the other servants.
"We have found her!" he told Erik, though the tone of his voice was nothing to rejoice over.
Erik knew that something awful had happened, and remembering what Marguerite had said about Cesar's behavior, he knew that Estella had been injured. He prayed that she was alright as he made his way into the forest, weaving among the branches and being careful not to stumble on the fallen trees.
If once he reached her it was too late, he would never hold a clear conscience. He felt that he had driven her away from him by his cold behavior, when only two weeks ago he had promised her a better life and friendship.
Even if she had not turned out to be the woman whom he thought, it was still his responsibility as a husband to make certain that her needs were met reasonably, and if she had purposely chosen to brave the storm outside and the oncoming winter, then he had failed in some way.
"She is bleeding," Mr. Matthews added as he breathed heavily and attempted to keep up with his employer.
Erik now broke out into a frenzied pace, and he was eager to find her.
A few servants showed him the way, and after going deeper into the darkening forest, he saw her. Lying in a dark heap on the ground, he could not see if she was awake.
"Estella!" he called out to her, but he heard no response. Two women were standing beside her, wondering what they should do, when they parted for him to draw closer.
"She is breathing, but she will not last for long out here..." one of them spoke softly to him with sad eyes. "We must get her inside!"
Erik quickly fell to his knees beside her, seeing the red stain of blood on her dress that had trailed down from her forehead. On top of worrying about her lack of consciousness, he feared that she had been motionless for a while and had suffered from hypothermia. Her skin was so pale that one could not tell that it was usually brown, and her full lips had a blue tint to them.
Without hesitation, he scooped her up carefully into his arms and held her tightly to his chest, feeling his own heart race within it. Her head tilted back to expose the soft skin of her neck, and her dark brown curls clung to the sides of her face.
It felt odd to think that his wife was finally in his arms, but he had no time to contemplate it at the moment. He carried her toward the house as quickly as his legs would carry him, no longer feeling the icy grip of the rain and wind on his own skin-all that he could think about was whether or not she would be alright.
If only he would have been kinder to her! Had he not shown compassion in marrying her and getting her out of her wicked uncle's care? Why could he not have continued to show compassion after she had become his wife?
He loathed himself for it, as he felt that her dire situation was now entirely his fault.
Marguerite saw her in his arms and clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp before she went to send for a doctor.
Once inside, Erik endured the pain in his legs as he ascended the staircase that eventually led to her room, leaving a wet trail of cold water behind him on the floor, and there he asked for assistance in getting her inside. He knew that the doctor would arrive quickly, and he wished to be out of the room before then.
He set her down on the bed, and she immediately soaked the sheets. Her clothes were so wet and cold that he knew she needed warmth, and so he hastily set about to lighting the fireplace.
"A doctor is coming," Marguerite announced breathlessly in the doorway. She quickly pulled off her own drenched coat, throwing it on the floor in the hallway, and raced over to Estella's bedside. "I will try to get her into some warm clothes."
Erik nodded in agreement, and requested that a few maids assist her. Two other women scurried into the room, and he felt that it was time to take his leave.
Though he had no desire to leave her until he knew that she would be alright, he simply could not risk staying in the room when the doctor had arrived, for though he had managed to find a handful of servants who could be bribed into silence, he did not want to tempt fate by exposing himself to more unfamiliar people than necessary. And so he would wait in another room until it was safe to return.
Marguerite walked him to the door and began to close it, but Erik stopped her.
"You will let me know as soon as he is gone? You will tell me what is happening?"
Marguerite nodded her head, her auburn-colored hair now drying in wisps and curls.
"Of course, Sir," she replied before he left.
Erik paced the small study back and forth as he waited for a sign. He could hear the footsteps, shuffling, and even muttering of voices eminating from the room beside his, though he could not determine what was being said.
He rubbed his aching temples and tried to maintain his composure. No matter how Estella had behaved, she had not truly been cruel to him in any way, and she did not deserve what she was enduring.
He had not lost all hope of forming an alliance with her, though he had temporarily cast it aside due to his anger. He hoped that, if she would be alright, the two of them could start anew. And if she would not survive, well...
He could not think of it. He could not think of anything except for the regret of his behavior and how she would not be possibly dying in the next room if it hadn't been for him.
He wanted to slam his fist into the wall, but he refrained from doing so. Could he do nothing right?
He was not certain which idea was worse-the fact that he had driven her close to her death, or that he cared this much about her. Either way, he prayed for her safety.
The suspense as he waited for nearly half an hour was so torturous to him that on a few occasions he had contemplated going into the next room despite what the doctor would say or think of his masked face, but he settled on sitting in front of the fireplace in an attempt to warm himself, with his hands folded in his lap. He knew that if he were to catch cold, then he would be of no use to Estella if she were to wake up.
After a few more minutes, he heard a soft knock on the door, and he nearly jumped out of his chair to answer it. Marguerite gave a weak smile, though he could see the sadness in her eyes.
"Her injury was minor," she announced. "But she is very weak and suffering from illness. She will need plenty of rest and to keep warm, and he said that she might run terrible fevers. Only time will tell."
Erik felt his breath catch in his throat at the realization of how serious Estella's condition was upon seeing her. She had not gained much of her color back in her complexion, and though she had been changed into warm clothes and covered in sheets and blankets, she still looked cold.
Her cut had been sutured, but her eyes remained closed. Erik furrowed his brows in concern and Marguerite noticed the worried gesture.
"She is only sleeping. Perhaps in the morning she will feel better," she attempted to reassure him, but it did not help.
Reluctant to leave her be, Erik sighed in defeat and dismissed himself after letting Marguerite know that he would stop by to check on his wife in the morning. But nothing could rid him of the terrible feeling that he had that made him nearly sick to his stomach as he walked away from her.
All of this is my fault.