did. “No more than it affects you, I’m sure.”
I let it go for
awhile.
After an hour
walking through the woods, we reached the stream. Merrick advised we sit for a
rest, and I joined him on a pleasant little knoll.
Sitting there with
him, the warm breeze rustling through the leaves above us, it suddenly occurred
to me that I was quite content.
I thought back on
that first morning when the carriage had left the city like a chariot bound for
Hell.
I recalled the
moment I first saw Merrick, his frightening wraith-like form looming by the
side of the road. It had seemed I was descending into a dark and terrible trial
to repent for my carelessness.
But now…
“What has happened
to your books, William?” Merrick asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“I suppose they’ve
been sold off, if my mother didn’t get to them.” Or discarded. But I wasn’t
about to imagine that.
“Where they of
value?”
“They’d fetch a
modest sum all together.”
Merrick sat very
still, as always, and it was impossible to know where he was looking or what
his expression was through veil behind the hood. “You must miss the city.”
“No, sir,” I said
slowly. “Curiously, I don’t.” I looked up at the leaves, frowning thoughtfully.
“I miss the book shops, I suppose.” But Merrick had books – some of the finest
books I’d ever seen, in fact. “Not the shops,” I mused. “So much as the
foraging.”
He nodded
slightly.
“But you’ve a fine
collection of books, yourself,” I said, and smiled. “And there’s no lack of
foraging.”
There was a slight
pause, and then Merrick asked, “Are you touched, William?”
He may as well
have slapped my mouth, for my smile was struck down at once.
Here came the
reckoning. This was it. Merrick was going to call out my ill behavior, my
unseemly demonstrations of misplaced passion. It had to happen eventually, I
knew. I lowered my face, ashamed.
“William,” Merrick
said with surprise in his voice. “I mean no offense. Merely that…”
I stared at the
ground, a hole in my chest.
Yes, I was
touched. I was ill. I was diseased with desires I could not control, and they
were set on ruining me. Remembering my arms about him that morning, I felt I
might actually be ill. I dimly hoped I would make it to the creek if my
breakfast came up.
His leather glove
brushed my hair from my temple, making me jump.
“William,” he
said, his voice gentle with concern. “Forgive me. I meant to remark on your
affable company, your openness to me despite my ghastliness.” He smoothed my
hair tenderly before he placed his hands in his lap again. “No sane young man
would be so warm with an old ghoul. And so it’s my good fortune if you are mad
enough to accept my company.” He rose to his feet. “Are you rested?”
I took to my feet,
speechless. My heart was still trembling from the terrible dread I’d felt when
I thought Merrick was going to address my perversions, but I was distracted by
what he had said instead.
Ghastliness? Old
ghoul?
Had he not seen a
mirror lately? I nearly asked him, but then realized the last thing I needed to
do was bring up how I admired his features!
God’s sakes.
I wasn’t even
fighting it anymore.
When he touched me
like that, even with just his gloved fingers on my head, it felt like every
molecule in my body was drawn to the point of contact.
Was it loneliness?
Was I lonely? Was that made me want to press against his broad chest and
breathe in the warm, male scent of him? Was it loneliness that made me dream of
his lips on my skin?
Merrick turned
back to me, and I realized I’d fallen several paces behind. “Are you all right,
William?”
“Yes, sir. Pardon
me.”
He waited for me
to catch up. “Are you unwell? You’re flushed.”
“No, sir.” Lord, I
could feel it. I was flaming red. “It must be the air I’m unaccustomed to.”
His dark hood
stayed fixed on me for a moment.
I fumbled. “Don’t
you suppose that um…living
I let it go for
awhile.
After an hour
walking through the woods, we reached the stream. Merrick advised we sit for a
rest, and I joined him on a pleasant little knoll.
Sitting there with
him, the warm breeze rustling through the leaves above us, it suddenly occurred
to me that I was quite content.
I thought back on
that first morning when the carriage had left the city like a chariot bound for
Hell.
I recalled the
moment I first saw Merrick, his frightening wraith-like form looming by the
side of the road. It had seemed I was descending into a dark and terrible trial
to repent for my carelessness.
But now…
“What has happened
to your books, William?” Merrick asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“I suppose they’ve
been sold off, if my mother didn’t get to them.” Or discarded. But I wasn’t
about to imagine that.
“Where they of
value?”
“They’d fetch a
modest sum all together.”
Merrick sat very
still, as always, and it was impossible to know where he was looking or what
his expression was through veil behind the hood. “You must miss the city.”
“No, sir,” I said
slowly. “Curiously, I don’t.” I looked up at the leaves, frowning thoughtfully.
“I miss the book shops, I suppose.” But Merrick had books – some of the finest
books I’d ever seen, in fact. “Not the shops,” I mused. “So much as the
foraging.”
He nodded
slightly.
“But you’ve a fine
collection of books, yourself,” I said, and smiled. “And there’s no lack of
foraging.”
There was a slight
pause, and then Merrick asked, “Are you touched, William?”
He may as well
have slapped my mouth, for my smile was struck down at once.
Here came the
reckoning. This was it. Merrick was going to call out my ill behavior, my
unseemly demonstrations of misplaced passion. It had to happen eventually, I
knew. I lowered my face, ashamed.
“William,” Merrick
said with surprise in his voice. “I mean no offense. Merely that…”
I stared at the
ground, a hole in my chest.
Yes, I was
touched. I was ill. I was diseased with desires I could not control, and they
were set on ruining me. Remembering my arms about him that morning, I felt I
might actually be ill. I dimly hoped I would make it to the creek if my
breakfast came up.
His leather glove
brushed my hair from my temple, making me jump.
“William,” he
said, his voice gentle with concern. “Forgive me. I meant to remark on your
affable company, your openness to me despite my ghastliness.” He smoothed my
hair tenderly before he placed his hands in his lap again. “No sane young man
would be so warm with an old ghoul. And so it’s my good fortune if you are mad
enough to accept my company.” He rose to his feet. “Are you rested?”
I took to my feet,
speechless. My heart was still trembling from the terrible dread I’d felt when
I thought Merrick was going to address my perversions, but I was distracted by
what he had said instead.
Ghastliness? Old
ghoul?
Had he not seen a
mirror lately? I nearly asked him, but then realized the last thing I needed to
do was bring up how I admired his features!
God’s sakes.
I wasn’t even
fighting it anymore.
When he touched me
like that, even with just his gloved fingers on my head, it felt like every
molecule in my body was drawn to the point of contact.
Was it loneliness?
Was I lonely? Was that made me want to press against his broad chest and
breathe in the warm, male scent of him? Was it loneliness that made me dream of
his lips on my skin?
Merrick turned
back to me, and I realized I’d fallen several paces behind. “Are you all right,
William?”
“Yes, sir. Pardon
me.”
He waited for me
to catch up. “Are you unwell? You’re flushed.”
“No, sir.” Lord, I
could feel it. I was flaming red. “It must be the air I’m unaccustomed to.”
His dark hood
stayed fixed on me for a moment.
I fumbled. “Don’t
you suppose that um…living
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