Born to Run

Chapter 19: Cold

Esme felt cold.

She stoked the fire, wrapped two shawls around her, and tucked the blankets around her feet, but she still felt cold. It wasn't a chill in the air. It was deeper, far deeper, down into her heart. The scene that morning played over and over before her eyes. The sick feeling came back as she recalled Brigitte's sly smile. What was this feeling? Jealousy? Hate?

Disappointment?

Was she disappointed when she saw Julian in bed with Brigitte? Why hadn't she seen it coming?

Hot tears formed in her eyes, blurring Esme's vision. He had so passionate... so eager to be with her. Esme longed for him to return; ached for his embrace. She had imagined herself in love, and this is what she got in return! Disappointment. Reality.

"You naive fool!" she told herself. "Stupid girl! Did you think he would be waiting for you? Did you think he wouldn't look for other ways to indulge himself?" Esme tossed her blanket aside and stopped in front of the mirror. What did she see? "You are nothing, Esme Goldworth," she choked, studying herself angrily. "Not enough for any wealthy and respectable man!"

Esme pounded on her reflection until her firsts were bruised, and sank to the floor. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. "Not enough."

She awoke the next morning to a knock on the door. Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Esme gasped when the clock struck twelve. The music lesson was an hour ago! When she opened the door, Lizzie's governess looked at her impatiently. "Mrs Fairfax," Esme said quickly. "I apologize... I overslept."

Looking at Esme's unkempt appearance, Mrs Fairfax shook her head from side to side. "I cannot tolerate lateness."

"Understandably so, ma'am, but I promise you it will never happen again."

Mrs Fairfax's pointed look displayed her displeasure. "I have half a mind to suspend you, Miss Goldworth."

"I believe that is unnecessary, Mrs Fairfax," Julian stepped forward, looking at Esme. "I will take it from here."

The governess glared at Esme, turned to Julian, and curtsied stiffly. "As you wish, milord," she said quietly, not keeping the edge from her voice, and walked away.

Esme glanced up at Julian, and gave him a cold smile. "Good morning, milord."

Julian put a hand on the door before she could shut it in his face. "Words cannot describe exactly how sorry I am, Esme," Julian said, looking into her eyes.

Esme glared, and began to turn away.

"Esme, please," Julian touched her arm.

She whirled back, meeting his gaze. "Don't you dare call me that! You have no right," she said through her teeth. "Not with some maid hiding in your quarters!"

"You do not understand. She came to me!" Julian tried to explain. "I was too drunk to think."

"Lies! All lies," Esme's voice grew louder. "I should not have expected any better!"

Julian wrapped his arms around her as she tried to break free. "When will my apology be enough for you?"He whispered into her hair. "When will your forgiveness be easier to come by?"

Esme broke away and stared at him angrily. "When will anything but ale and a willing woman be enough to satisfy you?" She countered. When he said nothing, she spoke. "My duty, as was assigned to me, is to teach music to your sister, but for a time, it became more than that," Esme told him. "I thought I saw a heart deep within you, sir, but I have been proved incorrect. You are just like your father." She saw the impact her words had on him. Yes, let them be driven into his heart. He needs to feel the pain that he had caused her. "My duty will now return to what it was, and I shall do no more and no less of what is required of me," Esme said in a clipped tone. "Good day and goodbye, milord."