Dark Halls, Stone Walls (Hiatus InDef)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It didn't take long for him to come up with other ideas, mostly of the intimate—but not obscene—kind. However, when I didn't fall into place as if I were just reliving the memory, he struggled to find other memories.

He fixed his face into a blank expression, but from the way his rushed to put his hands on his hips or how fast he paced across the room, it was clear that he was frustrated.

I kept my hands in my lap as I stared straight ahead at the cream-colored painted wall, instead far more interested in how they managed to get a wall in here without there being mold growing between the stone and drywall. A shame he wasn't on the same page.

No, instead he'd rather feel me up and flirt, as if I was the one he loved.

"What do you know of my family?" I inquired quietly.

His head shot to me. I didn't care to look at his expression. "Well, not much if I'm being honest." His footsteps stopped tapping against the floor. "Why? Are you curious about earlier?"

I nodded, "It didn't seem like I was on good terms with them because of my engagement with you."

"Not exactly," He grumbled. "Just upset that you refused to get engaged to that noble. It was probably embarrassing for them since it was done in front of a bunch of other people."

My mouth twitched. "It's odd."

"What is?"

"Well, it doesn't make sense to have such a public engagement if there was any doubt about the marriage happening," A bitter feeling filled my lungs like poison. "Though... if there was any doubt, it likely wouldn't have been from my end."

He walked over and put his hand on the bed post, but stayed silent.

"I mean, even if I spoke to my mother about my doubts, she probably never thought I'd actually back off... but that doesn't make sense, either. I tend to go with what my instincts tell me and surely she would have figured that I'd..." My voice trailed off.

"Mother, please, listen!" I heard a voice cry out from the washroom. "Viscount Harlow is... I don't know if he actually cares about me or this family! All I'm trying to say is that maybe we should slow down on the engagement!"

My throat closed as my legs remained glued to the bed.

"Every girl has her jitters, my dear." Said an aloof, older woman's voice. "And of course he cares about this family! He will make sure that your father stays in business and help your brothers when needed. There's no need to worry, my dear."

"Listen to your mother, Elizabeth. You know that getting caught up in hysteria never did a woman good." Scolded a cool, older man's voice.

I flinched, but the other me continued to press on.

"I'm not hysterical, I'm concerned!" I sounded patient, but the irritation bubbling underneath was apparent to me. The mother caught on as well.

"Concerned for nothing," He brushed off. "He is a good man with flaws, just as any other man is. He will not strike you, just as you've feared since you first started to mature and will provide for you. That is all you need."

The mother jumped in, "Indeed."

I could hear the father's heavy footsteps trail off, before the other me spoke up in earnest.

"Mother, I fear he will love alcohol more than I, just as he has proven many times. I can barely hold a conversation with the man, anymore!"

The mother sighed, finally fed up with 'my' antics. "Elizabeth," She lowered her voice. "If you are concerned about being lonely, then I suggest sending some letters to your friends for some tea. He cannot attend to you at all times, though I'm sure those books your sisters snuck in must've addled your head somehow. Love is a luxury that you gave without knowing the price. It is a lesson we must all learn at some point, that love is earned with time and patience, not on a whim like you still think it is. You will learn to love him again without being hurt." She paused.