Promises Unkept

Dark Horses and Deep Kisses

If life wasn’t about its misfortunes for Eden, fortunate things didn’t stay for long either.

To begin with, it was too heart wreathing a fact in itself to realize that Maggie hadn’t talked to her all the while since afternoon, since that episode and now, it was evening already. Eden had no idea of Magpie’s whereabouts, for she hadn’t returned to the room. However, she had an odd certainty, and even an assurance, that where ever Maggie was, Mr. Penfield too was there with her.

She didn’t try to reach Maggie herself because she was excessively astonished and somewhat upset after what Maggie had told her.

Mrs. Hopkins, on the other hand, had insisted on her and Maggie’s day off after the dangerous venture from yesterday, so by the dusk, Eden was so out of her spirit that she thought engaging herself somewhere or other would be the best thing to do.

She had, with Mrs. Hopkins permission and advise to stay discreet, been allowed to visit the library. It was a thrilling thing to do, to visit Ashleytonian library, to see countless, limitless and numberless number of books and a vast chamber full of it.

It was a capital library, extremely sophisticated in the choices and varieties of its books and so well groomed.

It was impossible to have excursed it all in one day and Eden, smartly, chose to ask for some help by the librarian who was a man as ancient as the manor itself and whom she hadn’t seen ever before but on this day.

“And any particular taste of yours, young lady?” The old man asked, sorting through his papers, the glasses at the bridge of his nose fluctuating as he spoke. “I have known that young lasses like you oft go for romantic fables.”

“No.” Eden pressed her lips nervously. “Not romance for certain. I_ I would rather go for some…something more…theoretical. Do you think you can find basic philosophy for me?”

“Why, of course, madam. And not a bad taste too, I must remark but I am disappointed that at the age for thrilling affairs, you youths are going for theology!” said he, shaking his head, his wrinkles crumpling and smoothing along the movement.

“And do you think you can me find one such book with a little easier phrasing?”

“Pray why?” The man glanced up with a brazen look. “Not fond of classic, eh?”

“I haven’t read a good book for over five years now, Sir.” She answered gravely. “I have little confidence in my own accomplishment over literature.”

“Aye!” He grunted absent mindedly, pursuing the columns of heavy volumes at the nearest bookshelves with Eden at his leash. “What grief shall grieve one more than to be parted with books!”

He handed Eden over a maroon leather bound publication of some book called ‘DARK HORSES’.

“Dark Horses?” She warily glanced up at the librarian. “What kind of…What is it about?”

“Read it and find out Miss.” The dubious man answered guardedly. “My duty was to provide you with what you asked for. Rest is your own business. Good night, Miss.”

And the man shut his face away like a cupboard.

Eden walked out of the library, the leery title of the book haunting her head as she assessed the book in her hand. It was a heavy volume and its gold edges shone in the bright corridor outside.

Eden flipped its hardcover over as the scent of aged paper and centuries old air trapped in its pages hauled her nostrils making her shudder.

Not able to hold back her curiosity for a pre-taste, Eden slowed her pace down and weaved through the pages to reach the first chapter. A few lines would do no harm.