Secrets In The Light

CHAPTER 6

Amy has been searching for her fiance for about an hour when she bumped into Lady Rochford right at the entrance of the hotel seeing as the woman was ready to go out for a walk in the gardens.

She was wearing the same dull blue on her dress, just like the day she had come to talk with the Lord, but this time, the clothing piece was accompanied by a white scarf covering her stiff shoulders.

It was nothing compared to the navy blue gown Amy was wearing, a simple dress, with a medium pannier that raised the back of her dress enough to look fashionable, but not enough to be uncomfortable. She has had this dress in her wardrobe for years. It was something her mother detested,– to wear the same clothes over and over,– but the young woman could always find confort in these kinds of belongings.

"Amy Grace Anson. If it isn't the future Countess of Essex herself.", Judith Rochford exclaimed boldly, gripping Amy's arm in the process.

"Lady Rochford, it's always a pleasure to see you.", the girl spoke politely, moving in sync with the woman as her arm was still in a tight hold.

'Countess of Essex'... The title held much more than a change of scenery to the story. There was responsibility a nineteen year old wasn't sure whether she would be able to sustain or not. It must have been the way Lady Rochford had pronounced the title because Amy felt dizzy all of a sudden and she had to grip her companion's arm tighter for support.

"If you ever need any help with the wedding, don't hesitate to ask, my dear.", Judith offered with a too large smile on her lips that almost looked fake.

For a second there, lost in the words of this strange woman, Amy had forgotten the reason she was in such a hurry before. But nevertheless, after gaining her stability back, she simply thanked Judith and excused herself, going back on her quest to find her future husband.

'Where on earth could he be?', she thought while finding her way to the kitchen to check every corner possible. He had been missing for almost forty-eight hours, skipping a dinner that they were supposed to have together and an hour of riding two days ago. And as it appears, nobody seemed to know where he was, or at least, nobody would dare to inform her.

In the kitchen, Margaret was preparing her delicious steak covered in a wine souce that Amy has been able to taste a few days ago. But she was not here to eat. Not yet. Not without him.

"Margaret, I'm sorry to bother you, but would you, perhaps, have any clue as to where Lord Savile might be?", the girl asked sweetly, looking from left to right to check everywhere while waiting for an answer.

"I apologize, Miss, but he doesn't want to be disturbed.", Margaret placed down the sharp knife she was using to cut the juicy steak and bowed her head gently to show her words were true.

Poor Amy didn't want to be a burden to her dear Harry, but she couldn't shake the strange feeling of being neglected, off her chest. Every single time they found a few moments to be together and have a decent conversation had been either interrupted or too short. She never had the time to ask him serious questions about himself, his childhood, his likings. The way she has found herself curious to know him was being strange at the moment. An unknown feeling of fear where Amy couldn't stop thinking about whether this was the right thing to do, if he wanted her or he simply wanted someone to give him an heir.

Maybe it was too soon to be thinking about things like these and maybe she never should have in the first place. In the back of her chest lied a small sentiment of guilt that was just waiting around to be fed enough to grow into something that could ear her alive.

"I understand.", she simply stated, taking a few steps towards the exit, nervously chewing the inside of her cheek.

She knew something must be off and wanted to help him so badly it somehow scared her. This caring for him in her tiny heart could fill it all and never leave room for anything else. And if he truly didn't want to be disturbed, then she will simply apologise and go back to being just a shiny jewelery on a freshly cleaned shelf.

As Margaret bent down to retrieve a bottle of wine for the source, Amy took the opportunity to run across the kitchen to the back door, the one that led to the servant's rooms. If Margaret wasn't going to say something, perhaps some of these people might. But the hallway was empty. Nobody neither went inside their room, nor out of it. The girl thought the real reason for this was because with some being ill, everybody had to work more to sustain the hotel. And even though Harold had hired a few more waiters and maids, it still wasn't enough.

Knocking on different doors seemed a waste of time as nobody would even whisper a word from the other side. The only people remaining here were the ill ones and from what she had gathered, almost all of them were unconscious.

Even though she wanted to give up and go back to her room, her feet carried her to the next door in line, one in the middle of the hallway to which she knocked louder than she intended to.

"Who is it?", a raspy tone came through and the girl's eyes widened widely in shock as she immediately recognised his voice.

"It's me, My Lord. Amy. May I come in?", she whispered, not knowing if he could actually hear her or not.

Harold was even more surprised to see her here right now. In the midst of preparing the food himself, tasting the water and milk before handing it to the patients and feeding them regularly, as well as he could given they were almost unconscious up until recently, hearing another voice in the last two days felt like a dream.

Therefore, when he opened the door to let her in, he couldn't hide that beautiful smile on his face, the one she has found herself wanting to see more and more every day.

But something was off and Amy figured it out the moment her eyes landed on him. First, there was the wrinkled, stained shirt he was wearing, the same one he put on two days ago. After that it was the hair. If normally his curls were somehow styled to look luxurious on his forehead, now those dark brown mops were out of place, practically flying off his head. However, what caught her attention the most were his eyes. Those beautiful deep-green eyes of his were now almost grey, too tired to even see straight in from of him. And the bags underneath helped finish this ravished look of his.

"My Lord, what happened to you?", she asked surprised, taking a few steps closer until her feet reached him.

With one hand she took the black hat off her head, placing it on the hanger next to the door. She brought it with her hoping to at least take a walk in the gardens with Harold, but seeing him like this, all her thoughts regarding the beautiful day they could have spent around the hotel had vanished, leaving all the other to bring worry to her eyes.

Also, she so desperately wanted to call him 'Harry' again, just like he asked of her, but she knew his words only apply in private, not when someone else can hear them be so inappropriate. And right now, there was another woman on the bed, either unconscious, like she had previously heard, or simply sleeping.

"I'm fine, Miss Anson. Thank you for your concern.", these words came out along with a deep, exhausted sigh.

"Fine? You look like you haven't slept or eaten in days. And if I'm not mistaken, you've been sitting here with all these people, feeding them and taking care of them by yourself.", she stated softly, wanting it to be more like a question, but knowing the answer anyway.

Harold's kind heart and caring soul were two things she never expected from him when her mother proposed this marriage. But right now, all she could see in front of her was a noble who could risk himself just to take care of everyone around him. What Amy hated about it was seeing him in such a deplorable state that he could barely stand.

And when his answer never came, his eyes darting down to the floor in an attempt to avoid hers, she knew the truth has been spoken.

"You should get some rest, My Lord. Please.", she pleaded, taking another step forward, placing her right hand on hic chest, with the left one daring to caress his cheek.

Surprisingly, he didn't back off, but leaned into her touch instead, closing his eyes to let the mesmerising feeling of her skin touching his sink in. They stood like that for a good while, in a silence that has never felt more comfortable before, almost intimate. If it weren't for the ill woman lying on the bed, he might be able to let it be an intimate moment indeed.

"I cannot leave now. They need me. I'm afraid if I am to sleep one minute, somebody could poison them again. Some of them have started to feel better, Amy. Clara is now breathing normally and she can eat by herself when she doesn't get tired. Jason can even walk for a bit, usually right after a glass of milk, Martha isn't as well, but at least her body is fighting, she's awake. And David said he could get back to work tomorrow, even though I would never allow it for now. ", Harold spoke proudly, but still concerned at the same time.

This was all new to Amy, that was why when it came to wanting to help her fiancé, she didn't know how. She has never experienced illnesses, she never had to work or worry too much, because there usually were people around who could do those things for her. But for this man in front of her, she wanted to try.

"The problem right now is how much it had already affected Eugene and Mark. The doctor said he cannot be of help anymore, so I sent him home for now. I need to stay here and make sure they have everything they need if they wake up.", the man kept explaining to Amy, whose heart was full of compassion for young Harold.

If she were to be able to help, perhaps he could sleep at least a few good hours, enough to get rid of that grey colour in his eyes and the bags underneath.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" she asked now, using the name he offered for her to say, knowing now that the woman, Eugene, cannot hear them.

"I'm trying to, Amy. I want to." he answered exhausted, touching her cheek softly with his thumb, looking deep into her clear green eyes.

He liked it when she called him Harry.

She didn't expect a totally affirmative answer out of him, nor did she want one. His way of relating to different people around him was still unknown to her, but she wanted him to give away just a small bit of his trust, and let her take care of things for him, even if only for a few minutes.

"Good.", her lips started moving, urging Harold to watch them carefully. "Now, why don't you let me take care of them while you sleep for a few hours? It will help you later."

Another few good seconds passed where nobody spoke, letting silence take over the whole room. Harold weighted whether she would be up for the task or not. At this point, after forty-eight hours without sleep, there was no question when it came to him needing to rest. She was also right, sleeping at least two hours would help later for another night awake.

"Thank you.", he agreed, taking her hands into his and kissing each of them before slowly leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

His gesture socked her. When she parted her lips in surprise, he simply took a step back and smiled fully at her, admiring the beautiful soon to be his wife getting all shy because of a simple kiss on the cheek.

Left alone in the end, only with Eugene lying on the bed, Amy couldn't stop thinking about how boldly her Harry had just kissed her ckeek just moments ago. And every time that thought would pop up into her mind, her face turned rosy and an innocent smile played on her lips.

Even after two hours of simply watching Eugene breath slowly, all she could think about was his lips on her skin. Why did he do that in a moment like that? He could have just kissed her hand and walk away, she would have helped either way. But he had to go all out his way to make her blush. What she couldn't understand was the way he would always smile with her and act all sweet and kind when in fact, this was simply an arranged marriage. There was no love in the picture.

Perhaps denying her attraction to him would be a mistake. Amy couldn't say he wasn't a handsome young man and being young herself, she only saw the truth. But attraction wasn't love and after just a week and a couple of days standing in this hotel, love cannot be the answer to her questions.

After a while, Amy switched to Mark's room, the one Harold pointed out to on his way out. Sitting on a chair next to his bed, probably put there by the Earl himself, she carefully watched the man's body. He wasn't young, probably around fifty years old if not more, but by his face, you could tell he had been a handsome one in his youth.

The girl was waiting now, patiently looking at him, but thinking of her fiancé at the same time. That must be why, when she blinked faster a few good times, she couldn't believe her eyes. Mark wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing. By instinct, she rushed to his bed, shaking his body out of shock before stopping to finally check for a pulse. There was none.

Letting out a sigh, she quickly ran to the other room to take her coat from the hanger and go let the Lord know about the incident, but that was when she had realized, she couldn't leave anyone alone. She promised.

However, upon entering back into Eugene's room, her lips parted in shock just like before, but this time a few tears escaped from her eyes and she collapsed next to the bed. To make sure she wasn't hallucinating, Amy pressed two finger on Eugene's neck, just below the jawbone, but there was no use. Eugene was gone as well.

Letting just another few tears drop to the ground, she stood up, too shaken up by the events of the day that she had to hold onto the front of the nightstand for support.

Now she had to tell him. Amy had to face him and let him know that she had failed. If she were to think of his kiss less and be more attentive, or if she would have tried to wake them up, perhaps both Mark and Eugene would have still been alive right now. Two people have died because of her and Lord Savile might never forgive her. Harry might never look at her the same.

Knowing that she wasn't aloud to let anyone alone for now, she called the young waiter she knew, Gregory, and sternly asked him to let Lord Savile know there was an emergency down to the servant's quarters.

It didn't take long for the young man to be there, still dressed just the same as before, his light brown dress pants even more wrinkled than a few hours ago.

"What happened?", he asked, unintentionally raising his voice out of concern.

Looking down on the ground, he noticed Amy curled up next to Eugene's bed, sobbing silently, but before he knew it, she was yelling apologies through the crying that turned out loud.

"I'm so sorry, My Lord. I promise I was looking, but all of a sudden they were both gone and I didn't even realize it. Please, don't be mad at me.", she was rambling all the way, making Harold more confused with the situation.

He frowned, licking his lips repeatedly out of nerves, starting to chew on his bottom lip at some point. So Eugene was gone. Unfortunately, he couldn't save her from the cruel reality of what arsenic could do. He was disappointed in himself for not resisting longer or for not being careful enough. More than that, he was disappointed because he promised nobody would die on his watch. Yet they did.

"What do you mean by 'both'?", he suddenly found himself asking, remembering Amy's words from moments ago.

He didn't want to get closer to the bed yet. He only wanted to admire Eugene's still body before they would bury it into the cold ground.

"Mark, Sir.", she said back with a whisper, leaving the sentence hanging on the thin air.

Amy couldn't bring herself so say those words in front of him. Using the word 'death' after the tragedy with his father and now this, it didn't feel right.

'So Mark is dead as well', Harold used the word himself, but only in his head, not wanting to scare her even more with such a cruelty. She has seen enough.

"Lord Savile, please, find it in you to forgive me. I really am sorry for my incompetence. But if there is a chance that you cannot forgive, I will understand the desire to call off the wedding and find another wife.", her rambling became nonsensical by now.

Why on earth would she think he didn't want the wedding anymore? Her naivety and innocence will never cease to amaze him. He was not the man to back out when things got tough, and this was not her fault. If there needed to be someone responsible, it was him.

"I'm not mad at you, Amy", he spoke simply, slowly, letting his words sink into her.

Amy quickly turned her whole body around, getting back on her feet in seconds before she ended up right in front of him, looking at him with those big eyes of hers, filled with tears. Her ckeek was also stained with dry drops of tears and her hands were shaking.

"What?", the word came out strange out of her throat, like strangled somehow.

But Harold just wanted to end her pain, take it upon himself, everything she had witnessed he wanted to make it unseen if it meant it would put a smile on her face again. So he took her shaking hands into his steady ones, squeezing them lightly to his chest.

"I said I'm not mad at you. It wasn't your fault. And I don't want to call off the wedding, Amy. You did nothing wrong.", he tried to calm her down by clearly stating the facts to her face, but she only seemed to be more and more agitated.

"No, you don't understand, My Lord. Maybe I could have done something if I wasn't only thinking about...", she started loudly, but the moment she realized what words were about to be said, she stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath in and finally blinking faster to adjust her watery eyes.

The Lord said he wasn't mad. What was she even about to say? That she was thinking about the kiss he gave her on the cheek and that's why she wasn't paying enough attention? That would be unacceptable.

"Thinking about what, Amy?", Harold asked, trying to hide a smile. Being playful in moments so dark as these might not be appropriate, but she seemed to have a talent of bringing that out of him.

"Nothing, Sir.", she rapidly spoke back, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

"Amy Grace Anson, don't lie to me.", he playfully scolded her, pressing her cold, trembling hands harder against his chest. "And I asked you to look me in the eyes when you're talking to me."

Amy was now conflicted. The Lord wouldn't let it go, even with a dead woman in the room. That didn't seem to be a problem for him when starting the conversation about her strange thoughts. This time there was no escape and she found herself as nervous as in the night on the balcony when he forced her to look him in the eyes and tell him the truth. Now it was the same, but what actually felt different was s the closeness of their bodies.

"Your...Your kiss, My Lord. From earlier. I couldn't stop thinking about your kiss.",she stated, barely able to look at him from the shame she could feel crumbling down on her.

It was such a simple gesture he did, but the truth was Harold barely slept because of it. He wanted to feel more in that moment. He wanted to be able to do more than just a sneaky kiss on the cheek. Maybe a peck on the lips would suffice, or even a tight, intimate hug.

"I'm Harry to you out here. I'm sure no one can hear us anymore.", he started, putting his arm around her shoulders, the other hand being used to retrieve her coat and hat from the hanger and help her get dressed. "Let's get you out of here. You've seen enough horrible things for today. Maybe another kiss on the ckeek will make you feel better, Amy."

And just like that, after closing the door behind him and leading her out of the hallway, Harry quickly stole a peck on the cheek from her, smiling at his success and her shyness altogether.