✔️ shadows of desire | downton abbey

chapter 33

1919

The room was bathed in the soft golden light of the late afternoon, the sun slipping lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the wooden floorboards. The air smelled of fresh rain and earth, a scent that clung to everything, as if the very ground beneath the cottage had been cleansed by the storm that had passed earlier. The walls were a deep shade of green, the color of moss that grew thick on the rocks by the river, and the flickering candlelight made the room feel warm and inviting.

A woman stood by the window, her silhouette sharp against the fading light, framed by the rich emerald of the countryside. Her hair, dark and glossy, tumbled in soft waves down her back, the ends brushing her shoulders. Her profile was strong, elegant, a face that had seen its share of both joy and sorrow, but carried neither too heavily. She stared out into the distance, her eyes narrowed slightly, as if searching for something-or perhaps waiting.

The soft click of a door creaking open broke the stillness, and a low voice, thick with the lilt of an Irish accent, filled the room.

"Yer still looking out there, aren't ye? Never seem to stop, do ye?" The voice was gentle, familiar, with a hint of amusement.

The woman turned her head slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips, though her gaze remained distant. Her eyes-dark, almost like the night sky after a storm-reflected the same quiet intensity. There was something about the way she carried herself, a subtle confidence that seemed to command the space around her, as if she had always known how to be both seen and unseen at once.

Evelyn stepped closer, her steps light, almost careful, as she moved toward the small table beside the bed. She paused, glancing at the other woman with a knowing smile, though she kept her distance. There was an undeniable connection between them, though nothing needed to be spoken aloud.

"Ah, I can see it in yer face. Always looking for something that's just out of reach," Evelyn said, her voice softening with the kind of empathy that only comes from truly knowing someone, yet never quite understanding them completely.

The woman didn't respond immediately, her lips pressed together, a fleeting flicker of something-perhaps sadness-crossing her features. She reached out to adjust the delicate lace curtains, her fingers brushing against the fabric, but it wasn't the action that caught Evelyn's attention. It was the way her hand lingered there, as if grounding herself before she could speak.

"You've been here long enough, ye know," Evelyn added, her tone light but carrying an undercurrent of concern. "Perhaps ye ought to let it go for a while, stop looking for it. Whatever it is."

There was a pause, the silence stretching between them. The woman's eyes moved to Evelyn now, the soft candlelight reflecting in her gaze, giving her face a dreamlike quality. Her lips parted slightly, as though she might speak, but then she closed them again, the words too heavy or perhaps too fragile to say out loud.

Evelyn smiled, a little more knowingly this time, as if the silence itself spoke volumes. She moved across the room to the small window by the bed, adjusting the lace curtains with the same delicate touch, but with a more relaxed confidence.

"Yer always gonna be searching, aren't ye?" Evelyn's voice was almost a whisper now, like she was telling a secret only the two of them knew. "Don't expect me to tell ye what yer looking for, love. It's yer own path, but that doesn't mean ye need to walk it alone."

The woman's lips tightened, the briefest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She didn't respond, but the way her body seemed to soften ever so slightly said more than words ever could.

Evelyn turned toward her, her own eyes softening, but still that hint of a playful edge remained. "If ye keep staring out there like that, ye'll turn into a statue. And I'm not about to start talking to ye like ye're one of them. Come on, now, get yourself together. We've more than enough time to go back to our own thoughts later, but tonight, we're not alone."