Sometimes it Pours Annabelle's Story Chapter-8
My eyes burned as I tried to wake up. My mouth was so dry, I needed some water desperately. This bed was so comfortable and warm though. I would just sleep a little while longer. Sophia would wake me if I was needed, surely.
Hours or days could have passed before I awoke again. My eyes flutters open. Where was I? This is not my room. No, wait I was in London. It all suddenly flooded back to me. Steven. Oh God where was I?
Jumping up quickly only to have my body to collapse back onto the bed. My head ached and my body convulsed from the pain. Now, I shut my eyes in an attempt to steady myself. I allowed the tears to fall. Slowly I looked around the room for a possible escape.
The bed was large with piles of covers and hand stitched pillow slips. The walls were covered with rich wood panels that rose to high ceilings. Fancy frames held portraits across the walls. Two large glassed doors covered most of one side of the room. Maybe I could open those? As I sat up I noticed the large fire place with two high backed chairs. Someone sat in one or rather slept. Their legs extended into my line of vision. Who was this man? It was not Steven; he was not as lengthy as this man. Sketchy memories of the stair well played in my mind causing me to shutter.
"Pardon me sir...umm" I tried to call out but my voice was to weak to have much effect. Again I tried to stand but slowly this time. I had been dressed in someone's night clothes, the long white fabric hung past my feet. Stepping quietly towards the unknown man my mouth became even drier. My sore muscles protested the movements as I inched closer.
Marcus sat slumped over I the large chair still wearing his clothes from the theater. Dark blood stains marked the once crisp white shirt. Even in his sleep I could see the concern on his face.
He stirred a little then our eyes meet. His face was gray as if someone washed the color away. A cut under his eye had caused a dark blue mark and his lip had been split open. He was my mystery savior.
Fresh tears dripped from my eyes as more vivid memories flooded my aching brain. I felt faint and almost collapsed to the floor. Strong hands grasped my shoulders before I could. In a swift movement he sweeps me into his arms and carried me to the bed. Gently laying me down before I could protest.
"Annabelle, the doctor says you are to stay in bed." He spoke to me as if I were a misbehaving child.
"I am sorry Marcus. Forgive me?" weakly the words formed between sobs. I felt so guilty as if I brought this attack upon myself.
"You have done nothing wrong Annabelle." His words were low and full of emotion. Anger. Sadness. He seemed troubled almost wounded. I raised my hand to grasp his arm tightly.
"Thank you." I did not want to let go but my head throbbed painfully causing me to loosen my grip. "I do not understand what happened..." My sobs grew louder and my breathing came in short gasps. "I am....forgive me...please forgive me...."
Quickly he sat on the beds edge pulling me to him. Unlike the wicked Steven he did it with gentleness. Holding me tightly against his chest; cradling me as if I were a child.
"Why Marcus...did this happen...Do you think I am wicked...do you?"
My body was exhausted and my mind was still spinning. Still he just held me close whispering soothing words close to my ear. "It is all over now..." My eyes grew heavy again as he rocked my limp body. "I want let anyone hurt you again."
That night terrifying dreams tormented my sleep. Hands moving over my body, pulling me down as someone laughed evilly in the distance. I awoke in a drenching sweat. Marcus sat on a foot stool pulled close to the bed. His eyes were reddened as if he had been crying yet he still held my hand. Squeezing it tightly I asked for water. He quickly retrieved a glass for me. I sipped it slowly as he spoke.
"The doctor will return in the morning. You must rest."
"How long have I been asleep?" I sat up slightly.
Marcus returned to his stool as he spoke. "It has been two nights since the theater." I must have seemed shocked. 'The doctor said you would sleep a lot that you needed plenty of rest. You have lost a lot of blood."
"Where are we? Is this your home?"
"Yes it was closer than your Aunt's"
"Oh! She must be upset." Fresh tears came to my eyes.
"She has taken to bed from the excitement but do not worry. The doctor says she is fine" he tried to comfort me again.
"I'll go to her in the morning." I planned aloud.
"You can not leave yet Annabelle. The doctor says you are much too weak to travel." The concern was present in his face and voice. "Promise me you will follow his directions."
"Yes of course." I was unsure about this but I wanted to please him. Besides I could talk to the doctor myself in the morning. "May I ask you a question?" He nodded. "What will happen now? To him..." My voice trailed off as I pretended to be interested in a loose thread. Fear crept in my body but I was unwilling to search his eyes for the answers.
"He was dealt with for now. Your Father has been sent word of your health."
My heart dropped as moisture formed in my tear swollen eyes. I did not want my father to know what that man tried to do to me.
'Annabelle, I had to inform him. I am positive your Aunt has sent word as well."
Even as my silent tears fell I agreed with him. Sinking back into the covers, my mind seemed to spin. This was all too much to deal with so I let sleep take me away.
YOU ARE READING
Sometimes it Pours "on hold"Romance
A collection of interlocking lover stories set in the mid 1800's England. Sometimes men were not gentlemen and not every lady was so proper. In the first story we learn of Annabella's longing for a certain Irishman. In the second half of the story y...