The Midwife and the Marquess

Chapter 18: Safekeeping

Maria led them through the fields and groves that skirted the road leading to the village. Originally a game trail, it had become her preferred path to the graveyard. Evan seemed to enjoy the walk. He had been quiet in the carriage, something Maria had been grateful for, as she hadn't been in a verbose mood earlier this morning. But now they spoke openly with each other, exchanging stories like children trading their favorite sweetmeats, fair and satisfying for both parties. She told him sad stories and happy ones and funny ones too from her work and life as a midwife in the village. He smiled and chuckled good-naturedly, and she thought this might've been the first time she'd seen him truly carefree.

He spoke in soft, wistful tones about an upcoming concert that would be his compositional debut. She listened when he talked of the music, absorbing the words as they flowed from him like the songs he played with such easy brilliance. She was transfixed by the subtle, yet fierce passion he obviously felt for the craft. 

He abruptly stopped walking."I do not know the way from here."

The spell broke. She tore her gaze from him and looked around. They were approaching the village, the path forking into several directions. "This way," she said breathily, shaking herself. "It leads to the only inn and tavern in the village. That's where you'll find your man."

He was silent for some time then, his features withdrawn, distant, as they walked onward. He was lost in his thoughts again and she left the loss of his carefree demeanor viscerally. 

Soon they came upon the rear side of the village's inn, a large, three story building with two sets of stables ringing the cart and wagon-filled courtyard. People bustled about their work or loitered around the back entrance, holding steaming cups of what Maria assumed to be coffee. She stepped behind a large rose bush, still laden with blood-red and shriveled rose hips, lending a semblance of privacy. "We should say farewell here, or else we will be seen together."

He nodded, but did not speak as he came closer, corralling her against the stone wall of the storage house. 

"Evan..." she breathed, taking a step back until her shoulders rubbed against the abrasive stone. Oh, curse him and the things he did to her merely with his eyes. Her gaze fell upon his lips and she licked hers in anticipation of, dare she hope, a kiss goodbye?

"I have something for you," he said, stopping several inches from her.

Maria looked down and saw he held a folded piece of paper out to her. She took it tentatively, frowning slightly. She ran her thumb through the red wax seal, breaking it. The paper was of a thick, sturdy material that did not seem to want to unfold as Maria bent back the creases. A gasp escaped her lips. "Evan, this is..." Her eyes lingered on the document, then snapped to his when she was done reading. It couldn't be; and yet it was. A dozen questions bubbled up in her mind all at once, becoming a tangled mess until the only thought she could grasp onto was fervent denial. "I—I cannot accept this, Evan." She shoved the document back towards him, but he made no move to take it. "I have already expressed—" 

"I know," he cut her off, not unkindly. He held up a pacifying hand. She stared at the appendage with a look of consternation. "You were correct in what you said the other day. I was not there for you when you needed me, and there is much we still do not know about each other. I intend to rectify that, if you will allow me."

"It's more than that!" she exclaimed, feeling somewhat hysterical. She swallowed, not liking what she knew she must say. "You don't owe me anything, Evan. You have done enough- more than enough- but this between us can never be more than..." She didn't know how to finish the sentence. How could she, when she didn't even know what they were to each other now?

He lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. "This," he pushed the paper back toward her until his hand lay flat against hers, pressed to her chest, "is a declaration, a promise, insurance, so to speak; so that you may have no doubt in my intentions toward you. However, I will give it to you for safekeeping until you feel the time is right, if that day is to ever come."

"How—?" Why—?" she was shaking her head, the questions caught in her throat. 

He took a deep breath, composing himself. "Maria, will you allow me to court you? Properly this time?"

Stunned, her mind reared to a halt. Her eyes flickered across his face, searching desperately for answers to questions she didn't even fully grasp. "A courtship?" she echoed, the words coming out weakly. One that could end in marriage. She looked down at the document, the paper warped by her tight grip. 

"Yes," he answered.

Memories, old wounds, emerged through the haze of her surprise and disbelief. A boy with hair the color of sand asking if she would wait for him to return. Rough, young hands holding up a locket, glinting in the summer sun. A smile as bright as the future he dreamt they could share, but was to never be. She only realized she was crying when Evan's thumb caressed her face, wiping away the stray tear.

"Maria, tell me, please; I must know what I am to do with myself- what I am to do with you," he murmured, his face bent down to hers. She could feel the tension coiled in his body, ready to spring in either direction on her word.

She was scared, so unbelievably scared. Scared to wish, scared to dream, scared to make a move. Her whole body shook in terror, but something else too: anticipation. Desire. Her belly tingled; her throat was twisted into a knot. She couldn't speak, even though there were a hundred things to say.

She was tired of being a coward. A half choked-out laugh escaped her mouth as she nodded.

His kiss was gentle, reverent, joyous.