An Improper Courtship

Under the Sycamore tree

Blake stepped out through the French doors to catch his cousin in an embrace. She looked wildly distressed and he knew it was his brothers doing.

"There, there," he stroked her head. Honey cried, tears falling to the point where her eyes should have dried out. Blake kept quiet, he knew he could find no words to stitch up the old wounds that had been left open. Soon enough, Honey was gaining a bit more composure, the crying diluted to let words pass out.

"I didn't know, I'd react like this," she mumbled into his chest,

"You are entitled to act in any way you need," Blake assured her,

"He apologised," she whispered, "it's what I'd wished for all these months and I know deep down I forgive him yet I am unable to ignore the feelings that have resurfaced." Her voice was gaining more stability, resolution.

"You suffered too Honey,"

She smiled sadly at her cousin, looking down at his feet, "You suffered more, cousin"

"Physical pain dulls with medicine but what dulls the aching heart?"

Honey hugged her saviour tightly, she played over in her head, the sleepless nights, the incessant dreams, the emptiness in her heart. She realised that the anger she felt in her heart was less at James but rather the consequences of his actions. He'd left her in such a distraught mess.

Honey let go of Blake, "I am going to try to calm these emotions, then I will try to speak to James." She turned to leave but forgotten she hadn't verbally thanked Blake.

"Thank You,"

"You are always welcome," he replied. Blake carried on his way to the gardens, his brother had disappeared but he was missing vigorous exercise. He could feel the lethargy gaining on his limbs without the inclusion of brisk exercise. He whistled for Lucky, the dog came whizzing at a blurring speed, completely missing his owner and skidding across the grass to return. Blake laughed as he watched Lucky, run around in circles and chase his tail. He'd neglected him a bit off lately.

Rosalie had aimed to venture out but when she'd seen Blake, she'd quickly hid behind the curtain. As a child, she thought but she didn't want him to think she was following him. She eyed Blake outside with his companion, for a little longer than she should have, her eyes trailing the width of his shoulders. In profile his strong nose, lips that she could outline despite being so far and his sharp-edged jaw, caused her to become intensely aware of her own body. She stopped trailing, swallowing her impropriety away.

The dog started barking wildly again, he sprinted towards the window where Rosalie stood. She tried to scurry away but the dog saw her as his sort of prize. Naturally, his owner's attention followed suit and Blake bowed gracefully to Rosalie. The dog's beady black eyes didn't leave her. It seemed to her, he wanted her to play with him. If she could even understand the dog. She left the door and the dog followed her direction, overjoyed, his tail wagging. Another tail was wagging, Blake walked back towards the house,

"Care to join us for a walk?" he smiled brilliantly, too brilliantly for such a dull morning of grey.

"I think that's what the creature has been trying to communicate with me," Rosalie said scrunching her nose,

"Do you not like dogs?" Blake seemed taken aback, and it bothered her strangely. Rosalie hadn't meant to disappoint him,

"I am just not accustomed to them much, city Parisians rarely own the big kind and the little ones are pesky little creatures who always beg for attention by doing the foulest things,"

"What about walks? Are city Parisians not accustomed to those either?" he joked, Rosalie rose to the challenge.

"I am capable of a walk," she began,