Sun, shining through the cracks in the shutters, woke Wylie quite abruptly from slumber. Her legs and arms, still tired from shoveling manure the day before, she blinked away bits of sleep from her eyes and yawned widely. When she looked for the shirts and things she had laid out, she discovered she had knocked them all on the floor in her sleep. As she bent to pick them up, something heavy fell forward around her neck, practically dragging her over the edge of the bed.
"The pocket watch!" She bolted upright in bed and realized that the night before, she had curled up and fallen asleep on top of the clothes she'd been sorting. But try as she might, she couldn't remember undressing before dropping off to sleep, nor could she remember changing her night clothes and climbing into bed. Then again, she tended to forget a great many things lately. Where on Earth were her clothes? When had she taken them off? She yanked off her night clothes, grabbed one of her father's long-sleeved button-up shirts, and pulled it around her, before noticing the crumpled heap of clothing on the floor; how did those get there?
At that precise moment, a solid thumping came from the front door.
"Goodness, I suppose it's going to be one of those days." Who on Earth could be knocking on her door? She had already sent the doctor away a few days ago, when she'd informed him of her father's death. Lady Judith dared not come to the slums of Lugwallow; her delicate sensibilities would not be able to handle getting dirt on her fancy lace dress and expensive leather gallies.
"Just a moment, please. I'm not decent," she yelled, desperately searching for her clothes. There, her good pants were folded neatly and sitting atop the dresser. She picked up her shirt from the floor and realized it wouldn't do, as it reeked of yesterday's stable cleaning. She pulled her trousers on and hurriedly buttoned them, leaving her father's shirt unbuttoned and flowing carelessly. She cast a wistful glance toward her trusty corset, knowing she didn't have time to get it on, and fastened. So she settled with fastening as many buttons on her father's shirt as possible as she rushed to the door.
The thumping sounded again before she could reach it.
"One moment, I'm on my way," she called out. As she reached for the brass knob, and pulled the door inward, she was shocked to find Lord Adrian standing there, his face downcast. Chaos stood behind him, tied to a broken street lamp.
"Lord Adrian, why ... whatever are you doing here?" She cast a furtive glance up and down the street, worried about what people may think. "Please, please ... come in ... though I can hardly imagine what a man like you, would want in a place like this?" What will people say? Worse yet, why is he really here? "Please tell me you have not come here to relieve me of my duties as your stable hand?"
Her eyebrows furrowed with worry, and she studied his face to gauge his reaction. He remained where he was, standing silently. Looking down the street, his gaze focused on something in the distance, though she wasn't quite able to make it out.
He looked pretty dapper in his black top hat and calf-length frock coat. On closer inspection, she noted that his shirt remained untucked and that he had not bothered to wear a waistcoat. The lack of care he had taken with his wardrobe was a cause of great concern for her. He was always dressed to the nines, even when visiting the stables or riding Chaos.
"Lord Adrian! Whatever has happened? Are you all right?" He shook his head no and stumbled into her house. Realizing that she had more than just his reputation to worry about, she peeked out the door once more, looking for the prying gaze of her neighbors. She was about to duck back inside when she spotted the one person who would judge her most severely.
The widow, Nettie Turpin, was in front of her home, sweeping the stoop as she did every morning. She didn't even nod in Wylie's direction; well, let her think what she wanted, the old bag, she decided, and hurried back inside, shutting the door before turning to face Lord Adrian.
"My apologies Wylie; I know you've only just lost your father... but I didn't know who else to turn to. I was so lost ... I just wanted somewhere to go where I wouldn't be judged." She knew he was fighting hard to keep his composure. It was plain in his face and stormy gray eyes.
"What is it, Lord Adrian ... please? Is there anything I can do to help?"
His gaze met hers, and she dared not move for fear of breaking it.
"My father, he's ..." he seemed lost for words.
"Has something happened to your father?" She crossed the room to him, wanting desperately to ease whatever was ailing him.
"My father has passed," the words took the breath out of him, and she watched him visibly deflate. She placed her arm into the crook of his and led him to an old faded floral print settee that had been in the home longer than Wylie herself. He collapsed onto it, and silent tears began to trickle down his cheeks.
"Oh, I am so terribly sorry!" To hell with what was proper. She sat on the settee next to him, as close as possible without touching him. Taking his hand in hers, she stroked it gently. She was aware of all the rules she was breaking, and how her father would scold her for such a thing. "Forgive me, but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be mourning with your family, and ..." she didn't even want to say the words out loud but knew she must. "Your fiancé, won't she be worried about you?"
"Wyles, I just couldn't do it. When he didn't come down for breakfast ... and I found him like that ... I just couldn't. I alerted the staff, but as people started to fill the house and the doctor came, and Lady Judith ... I just couldn't stay. How am I to live without my father?"
The sorrow in his eyes sparked memories of her own and grieving.
"I do know what you mean. My father has been in the ground for less than a fortnight, and I feel as if he left only yesterday. At times, I feel as if I can't breathe. I don't know how I will get through today, much less tomorrow ... or even longer. So yes, I do know what you mean. You will manage, though. You will. You have a lovely estate to return to, and a beautiful bride. In time, you will find the strength to carry on for yourself and her."
"Would you be surprised, if I told you I do not love her?" Lord Adrian asked. The words shocked her, and she struggled to respond, but he was the first to speak. "Lord Jameston made that arrangement with my father the day after Lady Judith was born. He paid handsomely for it, as a matter of fact. My father, always a businessman, was unable to turn him down. I was engaged to be married before I could walk." Lord Adrian stood up and began pacing the room.
"As we got older, our fathers would arrange meetings for Lady Judith and I. Horseback riding sessions, dinners, and the like. You would have thought we were royalty, the way we were wined and dined. As if Lord Jameston were trying to build an alliance. He has since admitted he was worriedabout letting an outsider into his family. Since he and my father go way back, he felt it was fitting.
"So, what do I get? I get the grand estate, and to marry Lady Judith, who I am convinced, does not love me either," he finished.
"Oh, but she does!" Wylie blurted out.
"If you're referring to her little outburst yesterday, I can assure you, that was not out of love. That was because Lady Judith has a flair for the dramatic. She and I had a little chat after you left. She is my fiancé, but you are my friend." At the word friend, he stopped his pacing to stare directly at her, then with complete disregard for what was proper, he sat next to her on the settee again. Taking her hand in his, "Oh, if only you were my betrothed? I would be a happy man indeed."
Wylie's heart was racing faster than a fleet of airships. How can I do what is right, when he has come here uninvited and is doing and saying whatever he damn well pleases? She jumped up, "Why, Lord Adrian, if I had done what you just did, I would be sent to the gallows. How dare you come to my home, proclaiming your feelings for me, the day... the very day your father has died! It just isn't proper!"
He stood up and walked toward her, "Dearest Wylie, I, of all people, know what is proper and improper. What is right and what is not right. That is why I had to do it. I had to come; I had to tell you how I truly feel before I say my vows to Judith."
"But Judith! What will she think? What will she do?"
"Judith already knows I don't love her. We know that ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more."
"Then, why do it? Why enter a loveless marriage if neither of you wants it?"
Lord Adrian sighed heavily, "Because, doing what is right and proper means we often have to do things we don't want to do for the better of all of those around us." He stood very close to her again. "Wylie, this may be our only chance, while it is still somewhat proper to do such a thing. May I..." he sucked in a deep breath, "May I embrace you, just this once?"
Wylie stood to her feet, aware of what he was asking and what it would mean for her foolish, emotion-driven heart, and stepped toward him.
"Damn you, Adrian."
He placed his gloved hands on her waist and pulled her close. Wylie was very aware that she was not wearing a corset, nor was he hindered by layers of vests and proper attire; the act of the embrace became something quite intimate. Never before, had she been touched by a man, and she was positive if he were not holding her, that she would simply float away.
She dared to lay her head upon his chest, her hands following suit, and they stood together that way for some time. Neither moved nor dared speak for fear of destroying the moment. It would never happen again; she was sure of it. After today, after this brief moment in time ... Lord Adrian would marry her former best friend, and she would only be the poor stable girl and a vague memory.
Time stood still for them, and as their legs grew tired of standing, they finally stepped away from each other. Lord Adrian took her hand in his and placed the softest of kisses upon her fingertips.
"My beloved," he whispered the words tenderly. She knew it was his goodbye. From that moment on, they were once more employer and stable hand. It had to be that way because that's what was right. His eyes reddened, and he turned abruptly and exited her humble abode. The door remained partly open, but she didn't move for what felt like forever, not until the sound of Chaos' hoof beats, faded in the distance.
"Goodbye, my beloved Adrian." They'd had a brief twinkling, like when a star shone its brightest before it burned out. It was more than she dared hope for to find out he felt the same way. It was something she would treasure forever. If she never found love again, at least she had tasted it for one ephemeral moment.
Wylie felt a renewed impulse to help the people of Lugwallow fight for what was theirs; if the Vicar had not shared what was to happen in the future, she could at least do them that service. It was most urgent that the people know what was in store for them.