An Improper Courtship

Chapter 2: An Improper Meeting

Blake was lost, tired, and hungry. He knew his two animal companions were irritated at their slow progress in finding his childhood home. Blake had never been very good at directions and his spatial awareness was practically non-existent.

When his carriage had been ambushed by whoever the men had been, his driver had instructed they separate, take a horse each and get out of harm's way. The driver had been injured in his departure and Blake had had to fight for his belongings. It was reckless but there was something in his case that was worth his life. 

The German Shepherd, Lucky, a steady companion on their 2 days walk through the forest, broke Blake out of his reverie with his mad barking. Intensely mad. He knew that the barking could only mean two things. Either he had tracked the scent of a human nearby or there was danger lurking. The barking grew more frenzied and Lucky disappeared into the density of the forest. Up until that moment, Blake had refused to explore for fear of getting more lost. Quickly pulling the reins of the horse towards the branches and trees the direction the dog had disappeared in, Blake had to reconsider his initial refusal.

After what seemed like an age of walking blind away from the path he had been following, Blake’s eyes caught the clear familiar glint of a running river. His gratefulness barely had a second to settle before he noticed an agitated commotion to his centre-left. 

Rosalie had walked further than her half-sisters had dared, they’d instructed her to not wander too far, and that the best flowers were closer to the grounds anyway. Rosalie, who had spent most of her life in Paris, had rarely encountered the opportunity to inhale such lushness. The verdure and forest enveloped her and awoke a dormant curious nature. The sun’s reached warmed the depths of her soul. It almost seemed too good to be true when a river materialised in front of her. The earth's elements working in unison to complete a landscape of natural beauty.

Sparkling, the sunlight filtered through the trees overhead and the water beckoned her. It seemed silly at first, but she removed her shoes dipping her toe and sighing at the tepid coolness. Removing her pelisse and her green dress, she folded the garments neatly. She pulled her stocking off and thanked the Lord she hadn't worn a corset. In her chemise dress, she revelled at the feel of the sun intimately stroking her skin, before she could question her precipitated actions she made the quick slip into the water. 

At first, the crispness of the water shocked her frozen as she submerged her whole body underneath. She couldn’t remember if you were meant to submerge yourself entirely or gently introduce the water to your skin. Either way now, strokes of water lapped against her skin, her body gradually accostomising to the temperature. It wasn't long before tepid shock transformed into a blissful hug. Slowly treading the water, Rosalie made sure to stay near the border where she could feel the ground. Rosalie could swim, although barely, she was still a city girl. A beautiful butterfly appeared, fluttering by dancing before her eyes. The wings were a mixture of deep colours, black, purple and yellow. Rosalie, amazed by its transient beauty, watched it flutter by. 

Trying forward to reach the little creature with her finger she gave up, feeling as though the earth beneath would not hold out. Yet, despite anchoring in her place, a rush of cold water swept through her legs, catching in her dress and propelling her forward. Rosalie attempted to right herself but in an instant, she’d fallen deeply. Her feet caught onto nothing, rushing beneath her. She was losing stability and falling into an abyss of water. The water was no longer a friend. Her arms flayed about helplessly, she moved her feet vigorously pumping herself up above the water hoping to grasp anything. Rosalie just managed to spray herself with water from her panicked arm movements. As her body desperately committed to saving her life, tears escaped her eyes. Treacherous body. How could she have been so foolish to jump in the water in the first place?

Rosalie’s panic was stupid but it was all she could do with her surge of adrenaline. She choked, more water entering her mouth. There was no one for miles. Rosalie resolved to calm down, she couldn’t remember what to do, should she swim against the current or with it. Calme toi, she persisted pense à tes options. 

There before him was the river he and his brother would sneak to despite their mother’s stipulations. She had always complained the currents were unpredictable and the river itself was a hazard. They'd mostly heeded her warnings. Blake surveyed the water, across the bank he could see someone flailing, dangerously close to where he knew the wind trapped itself treacherously under the water. As soon as Blake had calculated his options he ran up the river bank, past the commotion to start his swim. If he had timed it correctly he hoped they would reach them. He began his sprint ripping off his tailcoat, waistcoat, dropping them as he legged forward, his Hessian boots were last to go. He began his swim, putting raw energy into propelling into the water, he resolved to swim under the water in hopes to speed his efforts.

In what were the last sparks of logic, Rosalie decided she’d allow the current to push her, it would consume less of her energy. Commanding her body to become weightless, she resisted the urge to keep moving, laying on her back. She felt gravity pull her down and dread filled her stomach as the water washed over her head and filled her nose. Yet, it was not long till she felt air touch her toes and nose. Her lack of movement was allowing her to float upwards. Applying her self control, she flipped onto her stomach and looked for anything that could help. To her right, she thought she heard something in the water, but she could not focus on it, the left river bank was closer and where she needed to be. She angled her body diagonally to swim closer to land, on her first attempt she ended up spinning uselessly. Repositioning she tried to angle herself, learning from her mistakes, the water rushed over her, forcing her further away from where she had started but gradually closer to the land. After many tries, and clenching her muscles to resist the push of the water. Rosalie decided to risk lowering her feet to find the ground. With a surge of relief, her tiptoes found crumbly ground. Rosalie ambled her way to the river bank, desperately grateful for stable ground. She collapsed, breathing air and expelling water all at once. 

She didn’t care that her once white cotton dress was covered in soil and grass stains. She spluttered, coughed incessantly. She closed her eyes, breathing shakily, comforted by the feel of the earth around her. Although her sensations echoed the treachery of the water, her body trembling, her ears roaring with her heartbeat, she could do nothing but lay there, shivering.

Blake resurfaced confused when he arrived at the spot where he had seen the commotion. He looked around, they had disappeared, had he hallucinated? In the distance he heard wracking coughs, Blake was a strong swimmer and he hauled himself through the last leg of water. When he left the water, he was shocked to encounter the drowning human. 

Lying as though she had battled the sea, her brown hair splayed all over the ground and her face, the dress stuck to her every curve, highlighting a body shape he’d only see on Hellenistic statues. Her skin glowed a tinge of tan and rose, quite different from the porcelain skin tones of the English ladies. He noticed however that whiter scarred skin randomly darted across her arms. Her deep inhalation of air led his eyes to roam towards her chest. He refocused his attention to her face flushed from exertion. The face of a goddess.

"Are you okay?" He croaked, unsure of what to do now. He had swum to save the girl, but she had... saved herself? 

Her eyes flashed open, and she sat upright, her mouth hanging loose. Blake finally noticed the color of her eyes, a rich brown that seemed to glitter with green and golden specks. Her gaze was intense, she scanned his form.

“Where did you come from?” she darted looking around, her eyes darkened and eyebrows knit together in confusion. Where had he been when she needed help?

“I was across the river bank when I saw what looked like a whirlpool in the middle of the river,” Blake was trying to focus on his words and explain what had been a rescue mission to what was now a downright lunatic experience. His eyes were absorbing her every reaction, the squint around her almond eyes, the dart of her tongue as she licked her bowed lips, and the tightening of her scarred arms around her chest, obscuring his view of the increasingly transparent white cotton against her skin. 

“I ran across to try to catch up with you and swim across the water… to save you, I guess,” It felt foolish to say it now, but it had been the truth just 10 minutes ago. She stayed quiet processing what he was trying to explain. 

"It was foolish of me, to even step near the river bank." She clutched on and shivered.

"Are you hurt?!" he asked, 

A moment of silence passed as the two strangers processed the whole scenario. She looked down, bringing her hands out as though to check they were still attached. She smiled, not a ladylike closed mouth smile but an all tooth-bearing smile. It was a smile of survival, he guessed. He found it entrancing.

“I’m not dead,” 

“Well, there's that”, Blake chuckled unexpectedly,

"or hurt,"

"Thank God,"

Another moment of silence passed, as the water trickled behind innocently as though it hadn't tried to rip her away from life. 

“I suppose I should thank you for trying to save a stranger?” Rosalie couldn't keep her eyes off the stranger, his face was of exquisite angles. His eyes a piercing green and his skin a deep shade of sunkissed. His chest was bared to the world through his shirt and she didn’t want to admit that she didn't mind one bit.

"No, I tried to be a knight in shining armor but it seems the princess was her own knight" Blake laughed nervously, 

“Well, thank the Lord, I didn’t have any armour because I barely managed to get myself out of there, with this,” whilst tenting the dress with her fingers, it dawned on Rosalie that she was practically naked in front of the handsome man. It should have felt wrong, but her emotions were everywhere. Adrenaline coursing through her veins. Excitement at the Adonis looking man in front of her. Relief that she had survived. Stupidity that she had nearly died but Pride that she had made it out herself. 

"Uhh Mr ..." Rosalie asked, looking up feeling a bit of bravery at the way Blake was observing her. He was warming her to her core, she felt goosebumps line her arms. 

“Blake Franco,” Blake was sure he took too much time replying, he had simply been trying to rationalise why he was having such an energised reaction to the woman before him. He could feel his heartbeat, hear its surge in his ears, his pulse was driving him wild as he took her in.

“Mr Franco, could you possibly get my clothes,” Rosalie didn’t want to attempt standing up in front of the handsome man, especially with the way his eyes were glazing over her. Imagine falling face flat or flashing something, her legs were still trembling. She pointed in the distance. Blake obliged with a sweep of a bow and a murmuring ‘of course’. As Blake turned, Rosalie attempted to stand, finding her footing and slipping. She eventually made her way to the foot of a tree, in the shade, leaning against it for support, allowing the blood to circulate downwards. 

When Blake returned, Rosalie bowed her head slightly, biting her lip as she saw her sheer stockings had been at the top. 

"Could you turn around for a minute, whilst I make myself decent.” The last bit was risky but Rosalie continued, “I know you must be enjoying the unconventional view but I don't think it would be appropriate for me to carry on standing around like this,"

Blake half spun around the discourse facing the river, silently laughing at her words. She had an odd way of expressing herself. He heard the rustling of the trees and felt the teasing caress of the breeze, he doubted he was appropriately dressed but Rosalie had not even batted an eyelid. 

"You may turn,"

Blake twisted slightly and saw the olive of her dress already dampening across her defined collar bones. Her hair hung wildly and curly and his fingers tingled with a desire to twirl the hair. He sucked in a breath of air raising his eyebrows and smiling slightly. 

"Well, although this meeting was quite …” Rosalie couldn’t even find the correct word,

“Improper, impromptu, perhaps a failure on my part, an experience,” Blake supplemented, humour lacing every word. 

“Let's call it an experience,” Rosalie tried to suppress the grin, her emotions were all over the place, she was buzzing with adrenaline, shivering from the cold and the wetness she felt all over, yet she could still feel a tinge of warmth under Blake’s gaze. 

"Though I have to admit not entirely a pleasure considering the circumstances, it was certainly not a displeasure to meet you” Rosalie's stomach surged in all directions in all the cliche ways she would have thought a myth. Rosalie didn't understand what overcame her at that moment. A voice within her head urged her away but her feet disobeyed. She could barely formulate coherent thoughts. 

"I'm Rosalie Du Pont," she said, sticking her hand out and using her arm to support the outstretched one. Blake reached out, his palm making contact with slender fingers, soft to the touch. A heat crawled along his arms as she squeezed gently. In all honesty, there was no need for introductions, they would undoubtedly never see each other again. Rosalie searched her mind for something to say, ignoring the voice that was revelling in delight at his touch. His hands had enveloped hers in a way that had sent a spark to her abdomen. 

Blake smiled, “Well, Rosalie,” he said balancing her name on his lips, he liked its sensation on his tongue, “I thank you for the swim I got out of trying to save you"

Rosalie’s eyes lingered on the wide smile, his lips inviting. The loud beating of her heart, from his tingling touch or the surging adrenaline, was outranking her voice of logic.  

"I believe intentions are as important as actions, " Rosalie whispered. Where was she going with this, she hadn’t quite planned. The air around the two strangers stilled, somehow although not consciously they had both inched closer. Their hands intertwined seemed to represent a lot more.  

“I guess, I could still find a way to thank you for your intentions,” Rosalie murmured intimately. This was riske, instinctual but still riske. 

“No need “ Blake hushed back, her other hand moved to cover their hands and trailed to his wrist, perhaps more for her own balance or perhaps to ground her in what she was about to do next. 

Whatever, it was, whether it was the way Blake scanned Rosalie as though she was the breaking of dawn in autumn, or the rush of energy surging from her near-death experience, or the fact that his hand provided a warmth that was both corporal and... spiritual. Rosalie stepped close, brushing her lips softly against his. It was soft, restrained. Rosalie's mind rolled with waves of sensations. She moved her hands up to his neck and pushed harder against his mouth, savouring his taste of something like berries and mint. Although shock rolled through his body, Blake soon felt that Rosalie was no novice in kissing. The gentleness was replaced by a daring dart of the tongue before she pulled away, taking his oxygen with her. It took strength to pull away and as soon as his warm lips were gone, Rosalie realised she had just tasted something ambrosial. Something she would search for eternally. The defensive voice of logic came lashing back with a whip in her head. The waves of sensations she'd felt all at once were now coming to a crashing cease and she felt dizzy. Something had pulled her to kiss him and now the guilt was surfacing. Guilt at her actions or guilt or at pulling away, she wouldn't know.

"Adieu, good sir," she said with a heart-tugging sincerity. With that, Rosalie forced her legs to step forward and disappear. Blake watched her leave, he would not chase her, he didn't know her. Gone she had been swallowed by the forest, in an instant, the cold whipped him to consciousness. He had to swim back and grab his belongings, find his horse, Lucky and then take a long route home since he couldn't cross the river again. Yet despite all this, the worst of it was the hollowness he felt. It felt deep and wedged, a hunger he had never experienced before.