L
Lady Alainn
Guest
Original poster
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As it turned out, the stairs proved to be Eadmund's undoing for the next few days. While they had been difficult enough descending with Rachel's help, it was all he could do to crawl up the steps one inch at a time and flop exhausted onto his bed. Everything in his body ached, especially his arms and side, and yet burned with a desire to kill itself with more activity. Rachel took it upon herself to confine him to the bedroom and increased her visits to keep him there, for the agitated young man rolled himself out of bed at every opportunity to practice walking on his weak ankle. She was kind, opening the window early and closing it late to allow as much fresh air as possible into the room to steady his restless nerves. She was also a tyrant. The soft light in her eye and slight upturn to her lips when she repeated "No" for the hundredth time pacified him into a reluctant submission.
But ah! More than just his body suffered a blow from that ill-fated voyage downstairs. The knowledge that Rachel belonged with another man ate him alive with jealousy. Every moment he spent in the woman's company only confirmed how attached he'd grown to her. He found he couldn't look her in the eye as easily anymore, though he wanted nothing more than to drink in her sweet glances from sun up to sun down. All it took was a gentle laugh, a soft touch on his arm or shoulder, to lower his gaze to his fidgeting fingers in his lap.
Was it sinful to feel this way about her? To be so easy in her company? She wasn't technically married yet, though for her to be betrothed she might as well be. Rachel brought much joy into his otherwise bleak existence. Was it wrong to enjoy it? Or was longing to stroke her dimpled cheek with the back of his fingers going too far? His heart couldn't sort through such confusion sitting down. If only he could climb up on Chester's back and ride until everything fell into place! But he was trapped here in the solitary room, with naught but the bed sheets and a few scripts of poetry for diverting his attention from his agitation. All Eadmund could do was sit and wait, as patiently as possible, for her approval to get up.
At last, the day came. When he kicked back the covers, his side did not pain him nearly as much. It throbbed a little, reminding him it was still healing, but had no complaint when he tested it with a few twists of his torso. His arm still hung limply in its sling and it still would for a few more weeks yet. His ankle, though, seemed to hold his weight decently well when he set his foot down and put a bit of pressure on it.
Outside the pale rays of the early morning sun streamed in through the cracks in the window, taunting him. Eadmund cast a glance towards the door as a mischievous idea took root in his head. There were no footsteps upon the stairs yet to signal Rachel's appearance with his breakfast. Good. He pushed himself the rest of the way off the bed with his good hand and strode confidently to the window, his ankle causing him to little more than limp every few steps or so. It was certainly better than the hobble he'd put up with the week before! As soon as he reached the window, he threw up the sash and fought with the slats to prop it open. Being reduced to one good hand made the job harder than it should have been, but he managed.
Eadmund couldn't help the accomplished grin spreading across his features and stuck his head out to view the yard beneath him. If he leaned out far enough, he found he could just see the edge of the stable roof. He closed his eyes for a moment, straining to pick out Chester's whinny from the rest of the clatter down below though he knew it to be in vain.
As it turned out, the stairs proved to be Eadmund's undoing for the next few days. While they had been difficult enough descending with Rachel's help, it was all he could do to crawl up the steps one inch at a time and flop exhausted onto his bed. Everything in his body ached, especially his arms and side, and yet burned with a desire to kill itself with more activity. Rachel took it upon herself to confine him to the bedroom and increased her visits to keep him there, for the agitated young man rolled himself out of bed at every opportunity to practice walking on his weak ankle. She was kind, opening the window early and closing it late to allow as much fresh air as possible into the room to steady his restless nerves. She was also a tyrant. The soft light in her eye and slight upturn to her lips when she repeated "No" for the hundredth time pacified him into a reluctant submission.
But ah! More than just his body suffered a blow from that ill-fated voyage downstairs. The knowledge that Rachel belonged with another man ate him alive with jealousy. Every moment he spent in the woman's company only confirmed how attached he'd grown to her. He found he couldn't look her in the eye as easily anymore, though he wanted nothing more than to drink in her sweet glances from sun up to sun down. All it took was a gentle laugh, a soft touch on his arm or shoulder, to lower his gaze to his fidgeting fingers in his lap.
Was it sinful to feel this way about her? To be so easy in her company? She wasn't technically married yet, though for her to be betrothed she might as well be. Rachel brought much joy into his otherwise bleak existence. Was it wrong to enjoy it? Or was longing to stroke her dimpled cheek with the back of his fingers going too far? His heart couldn't sort through such confusion sitting down. If only he could climb up on Chester's back and ride until everything fell into place! But he was trapped here in the solitary room, with naught but the bed sheets and a few scripts of poetry for diverting his attention from his agitation. All Eadmund could do was sit and wait, as patiently as possible, for her approval to get up.
At last, the day came. When he kicked back the covers, his side did not pain him nearly as much. It throbbed a little, reminding him it was still healing, but had no complaint when he tested it with a few twists of his torso. His arm still hung limply in its sling and it still would for a few more weeks yet. His ankle, though, seemed to hold his weight decently well when he set his foot down and put a bit of pressure on it.
Outside the pale rays of the early morning sun streamed in through the cracks in the window, taunting him. Eadmund cast a glance towards the door as a mischievous idea took root in his head. There were no footsteps upon the stairs yet to signal Rachel's appearance with his breakfast. Good. He pushed himself the rest of the way off the bed with his good hand and strode confidently to the window, his ankle causing him to little more than limp every few steps or so. It was certainly better than the hobble he'd put up with the week before! As soon as he reached the window, he threw up the sash and fought with the slats to prop it open. Being reduced to one good hand made the job harder than it should have been, but he managed.
Eadmund couldn't help the accomplished grin spreading across his features and stuck his head out to view the yard beneath him. If he leaned out far enough, he found he could just see the edge of the stable roof. He closed his eyes for a moment, straining to pick out Chester's whinny from the rest of the clatter down below though he knew it to be in vain.
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