The Runaway Lady

Chapter 2

She was toasty warm. She was covered in blankets. She must be in heaven. Those were the thoughts that raced through her head as she woke from the deep slumber she had been in.                  Opening her heavy eyes she found she was in a nice room with green furnishings. Light streamed through the open light green curtained window.

     Lady Eleanor looked towards the mahogany bedside table beside her and found a silver tray with a glass of water and a slice of bread with looked like jam on it.

"I'm sorry, but that was all the doctor said you could have for now."

     Eleanor's head spun around, eyes wide, to see a kind, older woman smiling at the open door. Eleanor hadn't even heard her knock.

The older lady was wearing a long deep purple dress with a few gold bracelets and a gold chain around her neck. This woman has power, Eleanor thought.

     The woman came inside the room, a maid following in her footsteps.

"I'm Lady Isabelle. My son is furious that a Lady like yourself was out in that weather, let alone without a escort or carriage. Why were you out there my dear?"

      Eleanor looked out the window, the memories coming back to her. Her uncle saying she was going to marry Lord Blackthorn. Her deciding to run away. Being out in the storm. Collapsing then being held near warmth.

"I was just walking. " It was a feeble excuse and the Lady of the manor knew it.

       "Well, what's your name, dear." Eleanor looked down at the sheets.

 "Eleanor," she mumbled. The Lady Isabelle nodded her head.

      She stood and looked down at the tiny girl.

 "Well I guess I will tell my son he can come and talk to you."

     Eleanor looked up at that. "Where am I?" The shock of being in the warm room wore off and Eleanor realised she could be found out if she kept speaking.

 The older lady replied, "You are in the noble house of Blackthorn. My son is the Lord of the house."

     Eleanor visibly paled when the Lady said this. She could feel it. Feel herself slipping back into the horrible darkness that had consumed her before. Before she slipped into the all consuming dark, she saw the Lady Isabelle rushing out of the room. Eleanor didn't really pay it much attention, as her head slipped onto the the soft, plush pillows.

When Eleanor came to, and opened her eyes groggily she found a small girl pulling the silky curtains across the window.

        "Who are you?" she mumbled. The small girl spun, brown eyes wide.

        "I'm sorry m'lady. I wasn't supposed to wake you."

        Just then the sphere-shaped door handle turned and in came a tall man. He had dark hair and green eyes. Eyes as green as the forest. They told anger though. He was wearing rich,  fancy made clothes . He must be Lady Isabelle's son.

         "Your awake," he said bluntly.

He said it to the girl, then turned his hard anger-filled gaze to Eleanor. She had the sudden feeling of bein cornered. Her body felt trapped under all the blankets, and she looked anywhere but him.

        "Look at me," he demanded.

Eleanor slowly looked up at him, thankful the blankets hid the shakes that had overcome her hands. Shoving them further inder the heavy covers, she held her gaze of those brooding eyes.

        "You are dismissed."

 The girl, bowing her head, scrurried out of the room, closing the door with a click. The man stepped forward, edging closer to the bed. Eleanors body shrunk into the matress, hoping she could become invisble. He stopped, looking at her.

      "I'm Lord Blackthorn. My mother told me you were Lady Eleanor. Where did you come from?"

Eleanor did not answer, keeping her mouth firmly in a tight white line. He srunched is eyebrows together, waiting. An impatient look crossed his face. 

      "You arent going to tell me?"

Eleanor shook her head, keeping her mouth shut. Anger arose over is face , until her stormed over to the dorr. Clutching yhe doorknob, he half turned his head.

       "I will find out. No lady should be found out on the road like that."

With that he left the room, shutting the door, very quietly. Too quietly for the anger he had within him.

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I am slowly editing this to become longer. Please bear with me.