Time in Love

Chapter three

When I awaken. I'm in my bed and the sun is pouring in through the windows. The shrill rays of light make my eyes hurt. I doubt I got more than four hours of sleep.

I remember Kai's blue eyes. I think if I tried hard enough I could trick my brain into thinking it was all a dream. But when I pull my skirts up I can see red bruises forming on my waist. Bile rises in my throat.

I feel dirty and most of all unfaithful. In this timeline Romeo and me are nothing but strangers but in the last one we were lovers. And I can't shake the feeling that Romeo wouldn't be happy if he knew another man's fingers were bruising my waist. Another man that wasn't him.

I got up from my bed and almost yelped when I saw my sister on the foot of it. This was the middle sister. If I had to choose a sister I was closest with it would be her. The funny thing is we barely talk to each other.

I look down at Daphne. She had red curls spilling down her back similar to our aunts but her eyes are green like the rest of my family's eyes. I could always feel that Daphne thought she never fit in. Which is something I could relate to since we looked nothing alike.

Daphne was reading a book but as I leaned closer I noticed it was nothing more than a butterfly collage. I also recognized the handwriting as George's.

"Did George give you another gift?" I cooed and watched her try not to flush and fail miserably.

"That boys so sweet on you I think you'll turn into sugar!" I teased, bumping her shoulder with mine. In return she scowled.

"He is not! George is just my friend!" She insisted, with her nose in the air defiantly.

I laughed and pointed vigorously at her butterfly collection.

"That is something even most married women do not receive until they are pregnant with a couple of babies in their stomachs."

Daphne gave me a look. It was no secret to me that she detested the idea of having a baby. When little Emilia was born Daphne had hidden herself in her dressing room every time she caught a glimpse of our mama.

"Oh please!." Daphne insisted. "Real courting is flowers, and cheese baskets and horses sent to your door for everyone to see." she explains.

I frown at her. "Daphne," I begin, taking her small hand in mine. "Those things are all quick and easy presents you can buy at the market or pluck a dime and be done with."

I open the butterfly collage back up and point to a blue one with dark navy edges. "This, is something that took time and effort, even if he didn't catch all of these by himself, I can tell he was the one who made the collage."

Daphne peered up at me through long curly lashes.

"How do you know?"

"Because I've seen a real butterfly collage and this is a bloody mess compared to it."

"Only Goerge could've put together something this appalling!" Daphne squeaked.

And then we burst into giggles.

--

Just around supper time a hand tugged me into the servants corridor. I looked around surveying the dim light of the kitchen staff. They all stared back at me expectantly.

Finally, one of them spoke up.

"So!?" She said in a hard Irish accent.

I cleared my throat before speaking. "I spoke with the man who sent me the letter."

The staff of women ooed and then waited for me to send the next message.

"He did not tell me if he wrote the love letter or if he even meant what he wrote. He was a mix of some kind, maybe Asian and white? Something far away from England..."