The chapter is… er, longer than usually, so I won't make it longer with my author's notes.
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THE RED ROSE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: "An End is a New Beginning"
***
William
William
My days were quiet, our love – calm and still, perhaps even too peaceful than desired. By the end of November, we had already moved into our new home. Rose's manor had been sold, and was now belonging to a family of barons. We started a completely different life, compared to the restless one we had had before. The only thing left to remind us of the past was the antique piano, that Rose wished to keep and which, from time to time, was making music in our silent dwelling.
At times, Rose used to leave the bed in the morning to go to the living room – where the piano was –, and played it so carefully, so that she would not disturb me from my slumber. Whenever I woke up, I would hear a faint melody coming from the other floor, and recall our first night together, and the morning that followed when she, half-dressed and with tousled hair, dared to tease me, saying that she was not 'tired enough'. Although I wished that she would've been next to me when I rose up, still this was the only reminiscence of the passionate life that we'd once led, of our passion that once ran through our blood… and that, little by little, now seemed to have sunk. It was, thus, a reminder that I cherished – for we always cherish those things that we don't have.
The wedding date had not yet been set. As my intention was to take her to the sea, the weather had to be warmer, thus I postponed our marriage and honeymoon for the spring – without giving her the real reason that was, clearly, meant to be a surprise. We had no reason to rush. I feared that, once married, we would lose our ability to enjoy every second spent together… simply because there would be nothing between us to keep us apart anymore.
God knows that I loved her with all my heart; although, sometimes I could not help but wonder if this was what would become of us. This simple thought was enough to give me cold feet. We could fall into a state of compliance and make a routine out of our love, now that there was nothing new to discover in us.
Although possible, though, Rose did allow it to happen. Whenever she sensed that we were going too far, she would pout and sometimes never let me lay a finger on her for whole nights and days. She was careful not to give all of her, leaving me permanently hungry for her. It was in her instinct, I assume; and this was her secret of not allowing us to get bored of each other.
She had always possessed this sense of independence. There were days when she was so reliant on me, that I shuddered at the thought that something might tore us apart one day and destroy her, but many times I would find so much strength and power in her, enough to make me wonder whether she could as well lead a peaceful life without me being a part of it.
No matter how well I had come to know her, she was still a mystery to me – a woman embodying an antithesis of many contrastive features.
The winter passed quickly, and with it, the rest of my doubts and questions had been erased, as new ones begin to occupy my mind.
I woke up one day to find Rose lying on her side of bed. It was one of those mornings when she chose my presence over the piano's. She lay on one side, watching outside the window. Slowly, she rose up and looked back at me, checking whether I was still asleep. I closed my eyes in time, pretending to be in a deep slumber. The next moment, she sprang from the sheets with a sudden move and took a seat on a stool in front of her dressing table.
It was the most beautiful, graceful sight that I had been blessed to behold, when, arms brought to her head, fixing her hair with a pin, the curve of her breast showed up from under her arm. My curiosity being stirred, I rose and propped on my hands, allowing my sight to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and she was caught unawares. Her cheeks immediately turned from pale pink to bright red, and it was all I could do, knowing that she would not let me get close to her after the midnight fling that we had indulged in last night.
Spoiler! :
"You look beautiful," I said, watching her stand up – a feast for my eyes. As if on purpose, she quickly stepped into her dress, taking the pleasure of drenching in the sight of her away from me.
Spoiler! :
"You always say that. I wonder, though, if you would still love me if I were not," she replied.
If her voice had been harsher, I would've been worried. However, the tone she used was light, and rather teasing than serious. Therefore, I spoke back with the same smooth voice, "Of course I would. You will always be beautiful in my eyes." Though, despite the easiness with which we engaged in this conversation, I was very serious, and meant it when I said this.
"Sometimes, William," she added in a lower voice, "I think that unattractiveness must be a blessing; love doesn't come often to those who are less likeable, but when it does, it comes in the truest form; and there's a great chance that someday they might be loved for what they truly are." She paused for a moment, then continued, "You might take me as a pretender for saying all these..."
"Not as much as you would take me as a liar if I told you that I would love you anyway."
"But I do believe you! We both win," she replied, cheerfully, and stopped in the front of the window, peeking outside. "Look! The sun is telling us that spring is near. It will arrive before we have time to realise it, what do you say?" After drawing the curtains, she sat on the edge of the bed, admiring the landscape. It was, without a doubt, a beautiful morning, with the sun shining so bright, and no sign of clouds – a weather very uncommon for the beginning of March.
I looked at Rose while she glimpsed at the ring I had given to her. My intuition told me that she was thinking of our marriage. All of this time, I knew she had been waiting for me to set a date, although she had never mentioned it. I knew what words she was longing to hear, thus I, eager to please her, spoke them. "I say… that we should get married on the first of April. The winter will have been gone by then entirely." The result was the one I had anticipated; Rose was all smiles, and all of sudden she jumped at my neck.
"Really? So soon? I am so glad!" she exclaimed in an enthusiastic voice, refusing to ease her embrace on me. "That's one month from now!"
"Well now that I think of it, it might be too soon…" I replied in a playful manner.
"Not at all!" she hurried to contradict me. "We will have enough time to make the arrangements… and eventually invite some of our acquaintances… Say, William," Rose asked me after pondering for a while, "Who shall we invite to our wedding, beside Scarlet?"
"I haven't thought of it until now. Do you have somebody in mind?"
"Mm, now that you've asked me, I guess there won't be many friends to invite."
"Does it… bother you?" I asked, stroking her cheek absently.
"Not much. I want the ceremony to be as intimate as possible, don't you?" I nodded my head in agreement. Neither of us had many friends. While Rose had Scarlet, I could not trust Henry anymore. I did not quite realise until then that she was the only one I had. Little by little, with my retirement from the post of writer of the theatre, our circle of acquaintances had decreased until we only had ourselves to trust and share our happiness or sorrow with. "I think," she added, "that we should invite Scarlet, a few close friends we've worked with at the theatre… and," she paused, hesitantly, then continued in a low, shy voice, "maybe even your family, at least your father…"
My face turned red with anger right away. I refused from the start to consider this possibility. My father would've never allowed me to marry Rose; our wedding was a secret I intended to keep. What would he even say if he found out that I used my savings to buy us a home? What would he have to say if he knew that the money he had been sending me every month were not used to pay the rent anymore? "There is no way I will invite him. He would not accept, nor could he ever care."
"But, you could give it a try." Rose did not seem willing to give up. Neither was I. She kept on looking at me with begging eyes, but I stood there, arms crossed at my chest, unmoved by her persistence. "Please, William, if you're not doing for yourself, then at least do it for me. My heart would be at ease if we had his approval."
I smirked ironically at her naivety. "He would never give us his approval. You do not know him more than I do."
"I know it is not likely to agree with our marriage; after all, what parent would agree to marry his son with a woman of my reputation?" I opened my mouth to deny her words, but she quickly interrupted me and carried on. "There's no need to contradict me, William. I know you do not think so low of me, but I am also certain that I'll never get rid of other's misconceptions. But… the fact that your father would have knowledge of our relationship, even if he'd not agree, would give me peace of mind."
"Rose, don't make me do something that you could regret later. You are leaving me at a crossroad by putting me in this awkward position."
"You wouldn't be at a crossroad if you cared for my feelings."
"You have no idea of what you're asking for! Would you risk our marriage only for your peace of mind? What about my peace of mind and my feelings?"
"What you're saying… is that your father would do anything in his power to intervene between us and break our marriage?"
"Precisely."
"I doubt he has such a wicked soul."
"I doubt you know him better than I do. The subject is closed. I will not invite him." Seeing that I would not change my mind, Rose darted me glances of disapproval, and eventually stood up to leave the room, but not before she added, "Fine. Do what you want! You are losing both your father's trust, and mine, with your stubbornness."
Rose
Sometimes, even though I knew William loved me very much, I had a feeling that he does not understand me at all. By asking him to write to his father, I only cared for his own well-being. I knew very well what was like to live without a family. I hoped that he would not make a mistake that could break his bonds with his family – if there were any at all.
Since we had moved into our new house, we'd had a few arguments, but they always ended up with our reconcilement the same day.
But this time, the problem was serious. William hadn't talked to me all day. In all truth, I didn't show any sign of reconciliation either.
The following day, William asked me, all of a sudden and randomly, whether I truly wished to see him inviting his father at our wedding, and I replied affirmatively, but quickly assured him that I would not insist anymore, and that the decision was entirely up to him. After one single day in which we acted as if we were strangers, not exchanging even a single word, I thought I'd had enough of arguing, and let him do whatever he considers the best for him. This being said between us, he went out in the town, and I was left alone.
I was surprised to hear somebody knocking at the door right after William's leave, and even more confused to find his friend – Henry – behind it.
"Mister Lowsley, what brings you here at such an early hour?"
"Is William home, Madame?" he said, on an impersonal tone. It did not take me more than five minutes to realise that William's friend did not like me at all. I was aware of his aversion towards me from the moment he had seen me hand in hand with William in his apartment. Since we had moved, William invited him a few times over for dinner. Afterwards, they would discuss business and I'd leave them alone.
When we were alone – and thankfully, this didn't happen often –, or when William wasn't paying attention to us, he would look at me with scorn, as if I were the most worthy of disrespect woman in the world. It hurt me to see that there were people against our love, people that thought so low of me.
"No, I am afraid not. I find it curious that you ask me such question. I thought he was to meet you. Actually," I said after thinking again, "he did not give me any information on where he has gone."
"We were, in fact, supposed to meet later, but I thought I would pay him a visit instead. In this case, I should leave. I would not like to keep you occupied."
"Oh, but there is no bother," I said, out of courtesy, and only courtesy could make me invite this man into my house. "You could come in, and wait for him in the living room."
"I do not believe I could, Madame." I let out a sigh, bothered by the way he continued to address to me, every time emphasising the appellative 'Madame', as if his intention was to be ironical. I was grateful for his refusal, wondering how many minutes I could've borne with his presence. "I heard that you are going to get married. My sincere congratulations, Madame, and permit me to wish you a happy marriage, since I will not be present at the ceremony."
"William… did he not invite you?"
"No, and I am truthfully glad that he did not. I can not assist at a wedding of which I do not approve."
"And why is that?" I said, raising my voice. His insolent behaviour could not be tolerated anymore.
"We all know, Madame, what you have been occupying your free time with in your past. I think this is a reason enough to give me the right of expressing my disapproval. I pity my friend for the choice he has taken, but I still wish to congratulate you. William does no get fooled easily. You must have great skill."
"Mr. Lowsley, you are in no position to pretend you know me better, and if you do not put an end to your insults, I am afraid I will have to politely ask you to leave. Were you not William's friend, I would've shut the door straight in your face by now. However, considering the inclination that he has for you, I ask you to pretend that this conversation has never taken place and please never expect me to engage in another conversation with you again."
"Of course," he said, abashedly. He certainly did not assume that I would cut him short the way I did. "If you excuse me, Madame, I have no wish to bother you anymore. Please tell William that I shall be waiting for him this evening at my office. Good day!"
What guts! Despite that I never liked this man, I had never imagined that he would be so ill-mannered. I fought hard not to let this incident affect me, nor my disposition.
Profoundly disturbed by Henry's behaviour and by all of the things he had said to me, I stretched out on the sofa, and put my head on a pillow, hoping to fall asleep and rest for a while. I needed to ease my mind, after all that I had heard that day.
I had been disturbed from my slumber when William returned, three or four hours later. I looked at him through heavy lashes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"It's alright, I've slept too much anyway." William took off his hat and coat, and I, rising up, hurried to take them for him and place them on a hanger. He did not look upset on me anymore. It seemed that this was the end of our fight. After what had happened during his absence, I was grateful to William that at least in my house there would be no more misunderstanding. "Henry dropped by this morning. He said he wants you to meet him today."
"I know, I've come across him on my way home. He looked quite angry, although he refused to tell me why." I remained silent, hoping that William would not put me any questions regarding his friend. I wished to avoid this matter, considering that they were friends and business partners. I did not want to interfere between them. "You haven't yet asked me where I've been! Take a guess!" I told William that I could not have even the slightest idea, since at first I thought he had gone over his friend's place. "I went to the post office to send the letter that I wrote to my father."
"Did you? You mean you wrote him?" I asked, gazing at him with confusion.
"Yes. Are you not happy?"
"I am, but… I would be even happier if you did it because your conscience told you to do so… and not just because of me."
"I did it because I wanted. You only opened up my eyes and showed me what was the right thing to do. Though, I could not tell him straight away about us. I asked him to meet up with me in the town, because I have something of great importance to tell him, and I need his help. I think it's best to find out from me personally, not from a letter."
"I believe this was a wise choice, William."
"And now we just have to wait for an answer."
William had to go to his old apartment daily and ask the landlady if any letter with his name on it arrived. His father, obviously, did not have knowledge of William's new address, and he explained the owner all these things. Our time of waiting extended to four or five days, when William returned from his former apartment with an envelope in his hands. He opened it with eagerness, but his expression soon switched from excitement to disappointment, a frown showing up between his brows after he finished reading it.
"What's it saying?" I said with anxiety.
"It says that he is busy and will not be able to come here in the coming future. Just what I was expecting! He has no time for his one and only son!" William tore the paper in pieces in a gesture of anger and threw it in the fireplace, letting it burn.
"I'm sorry, William. If I had known… I wouldn't have asked you so insistently. I didn't want to hurt you."
"What's done it's done. You have no fault in this. On the other hand, I am pleased to know that he will not stand in our way. Now he can never blame me for not having tried to inform him."
To my surprise, William hadn't been affected by his father's reply too much. That day he went to sleep earlier than usually, saying that his head was hurting. Then the next morning he woke up as a different person, showering me with kisses as soon as I opened my eyes, as if his father's refusal would've increased his affection towards me. And since that day, he had never brought up this matter again.
But little did I know that the surprises would not end here.
One morning, I had been awoken by William's body, which was over me, almost covering me completely. It was a funny view, but nonetheless an uncomfortable situation – at least for me. I nudged him aside, careful not to wake him up too, but I could not. His right hand was encircling my neck so tightly that I was wondering how was it that I could still breathe. One leg was twisted around mine, immobilizing me to bed. William let out a low groan as I tried to take his weight of off me, and pulled me back to bed. "William! Come on, let me get up."
"So early?" he said on a sleepy voice that could barely be heard.
"Early? It's twelve o'clock. Is this your notion of 'early'?"
"One more hour…"
"One more hour? I am starving. Will you let me die of hunger?"
"You will not… you have my love," he replied in a silly manner. I could not help but chuckle.
"Your love does not satisfy my appetite. Get off of me."
No matter how much I tried, William refused to let me go. I caught a glimpse of his foot peaking out of the sheets. I felt mischievous, so I started to tickle his feet with my toes until he burst out laughing and pinned me with his hands under him.
"What are you up to?"
"Nothing." And as I said that, I rolled over him and moved until I escaped his grip. I put on my dress in a hurry, and he walked into his trousers. Before he would finish buttoning his shirt, however, I ran outside the bedroom, and he followed me, like a child chasing his playfellow. As I descended the stairs I felt his hands taking hold of my waist, and in a blink of an eye, I was lifted up in his arms.
All of a sudden, though, he put me down, and our giggles had come to an end. Turning around, we found ourselves in front of a tall man whom I had never seen before.
"Father!" William shouted. All at once, my blood ran cold. William was at least as shocked as I was, since he could not think of anything else to say. We blushed right away with shame as we realised that our appearance was far from being respectable. My dress was ruffled, and William's shirt was still half unbuttoned. We both looked as if we had just got out of bed, which was, actually, a fact. I felt I could've as well hid my head and die of shame.
William
"Father!" I repeated, being struck dumb with astonishment. For a moment, I could not find my words. Nothing I would've said could've acquitted me of the shame that I could feel now.
This embarrassing silence had been vanished when Annette began to speak, "Mister Howsham, I was just going to inform you –"
"It's alright, Annette. Sir," I said, turning to my future wife, "this is my fiancé, Rose Elinor Evans. Rose, this is my father."
"Pleased to meet you, Sir," she spoke shyly, making a deep curtsy.
"I wish I could say the same, Miss Evans. The circumstances under which we meet you are rather unusual." My father started then to measure her from head to toe, and I assumed that he was going to make a remark that would eventually make her feel embarrassed.
Noticing the awkwardness of the situation, I came up with a distraction right in time. "Annette, could you please show my father the way to the dining room? It's been a long road, I am sure that he must be famished."
"Yes, Mister."
We took advantage of this diversion to dress up properly and fix our clothes. I tried to comfort Rose, assuring her that there was nothing to be afraid of and that he was in no position to break us apart, but neither one of us was at ease. She had just met the grumpy old man and failed to make a good impression on him. Our chances to receive his consent were now ruined, and I knew how much this meant to Rose. We hadn't had much time to talk it over, as we could not let father wait too much for us. We returned to the first floor to join him for lunch as soon as we could.
Neither of us dared to say anything during lunch. At first, father had been silent as well. After we finished the food, however, as we waited for Annette to bring us the second course, my father decided to put us through several questions of different matters, all of them having the same aim – to find out as much as he could about the woman that would become my wife. "For how long have you been together?"
"Around a year or so…"
"And I take it that you have the necessary means to support a family…?"
"Your company is in good hands as long as Henry is helping me run it. The profit we make is decent. I am confident that this is more than we would ever need."
"I see. Might I ask you," he said, turning to Rose, "Miss Evans, what is your education? What school have you attended?" She looked at me, then at my father, and then her eyes switched to meet mine again.
To ease her embarrassment, I answered in her place. "She is… self-educated."
"In all fields, I assume: history, art, literature…"
"Of course. All of them," I replied, my answer – short and precise. He fixed us with his suspicious glance. Rose was intimidated by his cold attitude. I gave her my hand from under the table, and she grabbed it with a short tremble.
"And your capital extends to… how much?" Rose glanced at me with fear, and I tightened the grip on her hand, making up a lie inside of my mind. Thankfully, right after the question had been uttered, Annette came in to bring us the second course. After that, my father never repeated this question.
The plates had been emptied, and we all rose up from our seats. Father looked as if he would want to leave at any moment. I hoped that it would be so. Before we left the dining room, however, he added in a harsh voice: "Son, I want to have a word with you – in private," he added. I gestured Rose to leave us alone. The door had been closed and we were left alone.
"What is the meaning of this? I have been searching for you in all London to find out, from Henry, that in the end you've moved in Oxford."
"You would've found out from me personally, but you've been too immersed in your work to meet your own son. I was going to tell you everything – about this, and about my marriage…"
"First I find that you've moved, and now this! Have you lost your mind? What do you take me as – a fool?"
"I beg your pardon, father, I have no idea of what you are talking about."
"Her! About her! When I found out, I came to London immediately and did not find you there. I had to search for you everywhere to bring you to your senses. A woman of no education, being part of my family! Who would've thought that I should live to see this! Imagine what your mother would say if she ever knew about the dishonour that you've brought to our family name!"
"She would be glad that my actions, unlike yours, are based on my feelings. The disgrace that I bring to our name is nothing compared to the shame that you've brought to the memory of my mother, when you married that woman!
"I see that you miss my point. I ask you to take action immediately, otherwise I am bound to my honour to disinherit you."
"I will stay true to my feelings, at all costs."
"Then we have nothing else to say. I shall forget that I have a son." All things being solved – more or less – my father tore out of the room, seeing red in front of his eyes. He crossed the hall in a hurry, heading for the doorway as swift as lightning.
Rose watched the scene from the distance. Everything happened so fast, that neither of us had the chance to say anything else. My father left without saying a word, and Rose ran upstairs to our room.
When I entered the bedroom, I found her spread out on the bed and crying. Upon noticing my presence, she tried to hide her tears. "It is all my fault…" she said, ashamed for having insisted previously.
"Did you hear our fight?"
"Parts of it… It is funny how everybody stands against us. Even Scarlet, when I spoke with her yesterday, turned out to be somehow surprised when she found out about our wedding. She advised me to think twice. She could not know, though, that we've been through so much…
"It is none of your faults! I don't give a damn about what my father says. I won't let anybody tear us apart."
"Then I don't care about what others say or think either, as long as you don't." I brushed away the tears away from her face and held her tight to me. All I cared for right then was the woman whose soul was so fragile, that I would never let it break.
I was content, though, that she did not hear that part when my father said that he would disinherit me. Entirely dedicated to my own happiness, I had feared that Rose would sacrifice herself for my well-being and take it into her head to overestimate the importance of wealth, at the cost of my immaterial fulfilment.
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