Waiting For You Page 4

  The first room was sealed shut with a scarred door. The thick leather hinges and thongs that had kept the door sealed fascinated Arysa. It was so primitive and yet so practical looking. Holding the lantern high, she moved about the room. It was, in fact, a small bedchamber. A large bed took up most of the space. At the foot of the bed was an old chest. A beautiful tapestry hung to the right of the room. It took Arysa a moment to recognize that it was of Syra, but it looked slightly different, more rough in appearance.

  The following two bedchambers were very similar to the first in size and design. The fourth room was a nursery. An old baby bed was placed in the center of the room. Several chests lined one wall. Arysa wondered if some were filled with baby clothing and toys. Letting her curiosity lead her, she opened them only to find that they were empty.

  The next room was much larger in size than the previous four. It was more elegant and from all appearances was a lady's room. The large bed sat upon a raised platform, thick drapes of white brocade hung from each corner of the bed. Two large chests flanked the bed on either side, along with a heavily built wardrobe closet and a connecting door to the next room.

  She moved over to the door that connected the room and absently thought of her and Zebual's room below. Pushing that thought aside, she opened the door and entered the Lord of the Manor's room. Here the furniture was similar to that in the lady's room except that the bed was twice as large and the drapes that hung around the bed were made of black velvet. It was definitely a man's room, Arysa thought, as she moved farther inside. On the windows hung parchment like cloth and behind them where thick panes of glass and bars. She couldn't blame Zebual for his protection over this floor. She envied him for the history of his family. She, herself, would be content just to know some small fraction about herself.

  Just as Mrs. Reed had promised, the cleaning supplies were next to the stairs leading up to the third floor. Arysa smiled at the sight of at least thirty buckets of water, but then her smile faded when she realized that she would have to carry all of them above. Muttering beneath her breath, she began carrying them up two at a time.

  It took her nearly a half an hour to get all the supplies up the stairs. She placed ten buckets outside the first three rooms. She would do her best to finish at least these rooms today. She then went from room to room gathering up the rugs, curtains and bed coverings and carried them down to the bottom of the stairway for Mrs. Reed. Next she gathered the tapestries and placed them in a separate pile.

  Starting in the first bedchamber, she began by washing the ceiling and walls. The ladder was old and she worried if it would hold her, but soon grew accustomed to its squeaks of protest. A smile came to her face when at last she finished and the walls and ceiling gleamed white. Next she cleaned the small hearth before moving on to washing the furniture. Finally she swept and mopped the floor.

  She repeated the procedure in the next two rooms. By the time she was done with the third bedchamber she was ready to call it quits. The sky outside was turning dark and she knew that it had to be close to dinner and time to go to Zebual's room.

  Tomorrow she would clean the nursery and the two bigger bedchambers and the hallway. Her stomach growled loudly reminding her that she hadn't eaten anything except for a butter roll. Two by two she carried the buckets of dirty water down and then she went back up to gather the dirty cloths she had used to clean with. She stopped at each of the rooms and took another look before heading toward the stairs.

  She paused, as the hairs on the back of her neck lifted. Turning, she looked behind her. A chill ran down her spine and she gave a nervous laugh. She had definitely overdone it for one day, she thought. Plus the lack of food wasn't helping matters. Closing the door, she quickly turned the lock.

  "Don't even think of carrying those buckets down."

  Arysa gasped and nearly tripped down the last two stairs. "I swear, you nearly gave me an attack of the heart," she whispered.

  Mrs. Reed shook her head. "You didn't even come down for lunch," the older woman scolded.

  "True, but I did manage to get all three of the small bedrooms finished."

  "I'm glad to hear it, but I would be more pleased if you would have eaten today."

  Arysa laughed. She wasn't going to be baited into a further scolding. "I'll eat as soon as I bathe this dirt and sweat from me."

  "Do you want me to fix you a tray for your room or would you rather dine in the dining hall?"

  Arysa turned to look at Mrs. Reed. "I thought I would be dining with Zebual tonight?"

  "He sent down a note that he would see you tomorrow evening."

  Arysa thought about how he had looked the night before. He hadn't been well. She frowned at her increasing worry over him. She pushed her concerns aside or at least tried to. If he didn't want to spend time with her this evening, then fine. At least she wouldn't have to gather her defenses against him and his arrogance.

  "If it's all right with you, I would just as soon eat in the kitchen."

  "That's fine. I'll have supper all laid out by the time you come down."

  Arysa bathed and changed into one of the dreaded nightgowns and then pulled on the robe she had been using. She made her way down the stairs and toward the kitchen slowly. The doors to the garden stood open. A soft breeze brought in the tantalizing fragrance of the flowers on the sweet night air.

  The scent lured her toward the door. Moonlight filled the garden with its soft glow. Arysa walked down the steps that led to the garden, pausing every now and then to inhale the scents of the different blooms along the way. It seemed like a whole other world in the dark of night.

  Suddenly she was filled with a strong urge to dance among the flowers. She laughed at the thought of trying to explain her actions should Mrs. Reed come upon her dancing in the dark. With a sigh, she retraced her steps back inside, closing and locking the door behind her. Perhaps one night, she would sneak out and quench her desire, she thought mischievously.

  "Here you are," Mrs. Reed said, coming in from the kitchen. "I fixed you a nice juicy piece of roast beef and added some fresh potatoes, corn and peas. There's also a piece of my butter rum cake and fresh rolls hot from the oven."

  "I will have to keep my eye on you. I do believe you are trying to fatten me up," Arysa teased, with a smile.

  Mrs. Reed blushed. "Nonsense. I've already told you that you need to gain back the weight you lost. You've always had a very nice figure."

  Holding up her hands, Arysa shook her head. "I'll not argue with you. I am the way I am and that's that. Besides, I'm too tired for arguing."

  "You'd lose the argument anyway." Mrs. Reed laughed. "Now sit down and eat up. I have a few things to check on and then I'll be back."

  True to her word, Mrs. Reed returned just as Arysa finished eating. "You did real good, lass. No picking at your food tonight."

  Arysa wiped her mouth on the linen napkin and smiled. "I worked up an appetite today."

  "That you did."

  "Tomorrow I'll finish up and be just as hungry."

  "I'll be ready for you," Mrs. Reed said, with another laugh. "Now, off you go. I'll see you tomorrow. Have sweet dreams, lass."

  All the way up to her room, Arysa thought over the older woman's words. If only Mrs. Reed knew just what kind of dreams she did have. Arysa blushed as she thought about the wicked, sensuous dreams. It seemed that every morning she would awake with a sigh of regret that the dreams had ended. Several times she had been tempted to fall back to sleep and see if she could dream just a little more.

  From the time she had awakened to this mysterious world and every night since she had dreamed. She wasn't sure from where the dreams stemmed, but in truth it didn't matter, what did was her enjoyment of them.

  Her dreams also made her feel as though there was one part of her that none knew about. Her dream lover was a secret from all and she liked it that way. He was hers in the dark realm of her dreams. It was shameless for her to admit, but most of the time she couldn't wait f
or night to come, to dream of passion so consuming it left nothing of herself.

  She couldn't help but wonder if there were actual people who lived outside the world of dreams that experienced this kind of lovemaking. Probably so, she decided. She envied them. To encounter such feelings in the state of wakefulness had to be a wonderment within itself.

  Thoughts of her dreams and what awaited her hastened her steps. She knew her anticipation was high and that it would take her a few moments to calm her jittery nerves enough so that sleep could claim her. She had been through this before. Her actions reminded her of a person thirsting for something that they had been denied too long. Even realizing her dependency on her dreams didn't stop her ... but then how did one go about stopping a dream?

  She paused in front of the door that connected her room to that of Zebual's. Leaning forward, she placed her ear against the door and listened. Nothing. Next she tried to peek through the keyhole only to find darkness. Was he all right, she wondered, biting her lip. With a sigh she raised her hand and knocked softly. When he didn't answer, she turned away.

  Zebual had watched her from his window above. He had seen her pause on the garden path and knew instinctively what she had wanted to do ... dance among the flowers and moonlight. His heart had given a painful lurch and yet he couldn't pull his gaze from her until she had disappeared inside.

  "Can I get you anything else, Zebual?"

  Looking over his shoulder at Justin, Zebual shook his head. "I thank you, but no. I'll see you tomorrow."

  Justin patted his friend on the shoulder. "You worry overly much about her."

  "How can I not?" Zebual replied, gazing at the closed door that held Arysa away from him.

  "Everything will work out."

  "I hope so."

  "Arysa might lack all memory, but she is still the same woman."

  Zebual nodded. "I went up to see what she had accomplished today. She did an excellent job." In truth, it was heartrending to see the difference between the rooms she had cleaned and the rooms yet to be cleaned.

  "Get some rest, my friend."

  Holding his silence, Zebual waited until Justin left the room and then he waited longer. Finally he heard Arysa enter her room. His heart had given a painful lurch when she knocked upon his door. He wanted desperately to open to her, but held back. He wanted to be with her ... to smell her soft fragrance, but he fought against his urges and though he won, he felt defeated. He continued to wait until he knew for certain that she was lost in sleep. Only then did he unlock the door and enter.

  He moved closer to her sleeping form. Always so beautiful, he thought. Her scent drew him like the sweet scent of flowers drew the bees ... or the smell of blood drew that of the vultures. He reached out to touch her and then stopped at the sight of his withering hand next to her pureness. Pulling back his hand, he turned away. Existing, such as he knew it, was cruel and painful. Slowly, he made his way back to his room, closing and locking the door between them.

  *~*

  Arysa came slowly awake. She stretched and then slowly sat up, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. Pushing the coverings to the side, she got out of bed. She had plenty of work ahead of her. Heading over to the wardrobe closet, she stopped in mid-stride ... her stomach quivered and her knees felt weak as the sudden truth washed over her. She hadn't dreamed last night. Spinning around, she looked at the bed as if the answer could be found there.

  Her mystic lover hadn't come to her during the night. He was the only thing that she had all to herself. Her heart suddenly felt heavy. What would she do if she never dreamed of him again? She didn't want to think about it, yet the silent question stayed with her. There was nothing she could do. The thought of never dreaming of him again didn't frighten her, for he was only a dream. What put fear in her heart and made her stomach tighten, was that while she was in her dream-world she felt as though she was found, as if she had a place in the world ... instead of being unknown.

  By the time Arysa came downstairs, Mrs. Reed had breakfast prepared. She noted the stern look on the older woman's face and knew that she wouldn't be escaping with just a roll for breakfast this morning. With a sigh, she took a seat at the small table, noticing how the stern expression fell from the older woman's face.

  Filling a plate, Mrs. Reed placed it in front of Arysa and smiled. "A good meal upon rising will make the day much better for you," she murmured and then went back to the stove.

  Although she was in a hurry to get started on her chores, Arysa ate until she got an affirmative nod from Mrs. Reed that she had done well. "You're determined to make me fat," she grumbled, carrying her plate over to the sink.

  "Aye, I am," Mrs. Reed chirped good-naturedly.

  The woman had a warped sense of humor, Arysa thought with a smile as she left the room and headed for the third floor. When she reached the stairway she wasn't surprised to find all the supplies she would need waiting for her. Plus, Mrs. Reed had the clean curtains, bed linens and tapestries stacked neatly in individual piles. Lighting the lantern, she unlocked the door and began carrying up her supplies.

  By the stroke of noon, she had replaced the tapestries and drapes in the first three bedchambers. Then she had remade the beds and laid out the rugs making sure that she sprinkled some of Mrs. Reed's special spice mixture beneath them.

  As she stood at the doorway to the nursery, she thought about going downstairs for a bite to eat, but the sight of the empty cradle enticed her into the room. Her fingertips brushed against the dusty wood of the baby bed and before she knew what came over her, she was cleaning the room with a vengeance. It seemed like in no time she was done and was feeling quite good at the sight of the clean room. With extra care, she put the clean bed linens on the baby bed and then smoothed her hand over it one last time before sprinkling the spice on the floor and laying down the rug.

  Picking up her cleaning supplies, she moved down the hall to the lady's bedchamber. The room looked barren and empty. She began scrubbing the room from ceiling to floor. After dusting the small chests that sat on each side of the bed, she moved on to the wardrobe closet. Thinking to dust the inside, she opened the closet door. She gasped at the sight of several lovely gowns hanging within it. Without stopping to think, she reached out and touched the nearest gown. The mauve brocade felt cool to her touch. Arysa pulled her hand back and quickly shut the door. The clothing had to be old and yet looked untouched by time.

  A shiver ran down her spine and she felt a slight aching in each temple. She made quick work of sweeping and mopping the floor. The rest would have to wait until the floors dried. With that thought in mind, she moved her supplies out into the hallway and then pulled the door closed and latched it.

  As she cleaned the Lord of the Manor's room, she found herself pausing several times to stare at the huge bed. It had to be all of ten feet in length and the width was nearly the same. Had the man been so large that he needed a bed that big?

  Temptation finally got the better of her. She crossed the room to stand at the side of the bed. Leaning forward, she ran her hand over the mattress. Nervously she looked around the room before her gaze came back to the bed. She thought of the large portrait of Connor hanging downstairs. In her opinion, he didn't seem to be an overly large man. Arysa shook her head, as she nearly gave in to the temptation to climb upon the bed and lie down. It was all so obvious ... she was losing her mind. What would Zebual think should he find her stretched out on his ancestor's bed? With a smile, she pulled herself away from the bed and away from the desire to be playful.

  It took her another two hours, but finally she was done. Arysa stood at the end of the hallway looking back at the damp floor. She would grab something to eat while the floors dried and then she would come back up to finish making both beds in the Lord and Lady's room and then hang the tapestries and drapes.

  As she came down the stairs she saw Mrs. Reed. "I wasn't going to miss lunch," Arysa said in defense of herself. "In fact, you should be quite pleased to k
now that I'm starving."

  "Then come along. I have the table all set up in the dining hall for you.

  "Oh, you shouldn't have bothered. I could have eaten in the kitchen," Arysa said, as they descended the stairs together.

  "Nonsense. You've worked too hard to be scrunched up on those little benches in the kitchen. How is everything going above stairs?"

  "Just fine. All I have to do is take care of the things you washed for me yesterday. Once I'm done with that I'll be ready for a bath and supper." Arysa laughed. "Any word from Zebual today?"

  "None as of yet." Mrs. Reed answered. "I made you some fresh baked bread to tempt your palate."

  "You don't have to worry about my hunger, not after the work I've put in during the last two days."

  "Well, here we are. Sit down and eat before your food grows cold."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Reed. I wouldn't know what to do without you."

  The older woman smiled widely and waved away Arysa's praise. "You've a gentle heart, lass. But then I've known that for years." With that said, Mrs. Reed turned on her heel and headed back down the dark hallway.

  Arysa paused when she noticed that Mrs. Reed had placed her food in front of the throne chair. She was being foolish again, but lately that had become her normal state of mind. Stepping up beside the chair, she looked up at the large tapestry behind it. She couldn't sit there. Moving her plate, she took the seat at the end of the table.

  As she began eating, she took the opportunity to let the room and the atmosphere fill her. Her gaze moved around, stopping when she came back full circle to the throne chair. What had Connor been like, she wondered? Mean and fierce, most likely, she thought as a mental image of Zebual drifted through her mind. Arrogance probably ran in the family.