Another chapter...please tell me what you think of it :) and my writing...I like constructive critisism a great deal.
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Chapter Three
Rachel forced herself out of bed early the next morning, hurrying to dress and run downstairs. Hannah, the housekeeper, would need her help preparing breakfast. She crept carefully from her room, peaking both ways and moving slowly so as not to wake anyone, but when she reached the stairs she released caution and flew down them. At the bottom was a sharp corner, one she had been running around for every day of her life. It came as a shock to her when as she blew around the corner, she collided with another human rather than the force of her body throwing the kitchen door open for her.
“Oof!” the other person fell backwards into the kitchen with a painful grunt, Rachel landing on top of him.
“I’m so sorry!” she gasped, scrambling up. The person under her threw her off and stood to his feet, glaring at her furiously.
“What are you trying to do, break my neck!? Isn’t it enough that I’m stuck in this hole of a place, without you trying to kill me!?”
Rachel stared into the blazing blue eyes with shock, “Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you, and I was coming down to make breakfast,” she informed him when she found her tongue, “and please,” she added as an afterthought, “don’t shout so loud, you’ll wake the whole house. Everyone was awake until late last night.” He continued to glare at her, and Rachel cringed away, suddenly frightened by the cold, dark look he gave her.
“I’ll bet your mother wouldn’t be pleased with you for attempting to murder her guest,” Peter told her, narrowing his eyes.
Rachel was astonished, how could be so rude? “I slipped. I never expected you to be there and could not see you as I rounded the corner! I did nothing wrong, and you’re not hurt!”
Peter completely ignored her outburst, and stormed from the kitchen. A moment later, Rachel heard the front door slam behind him as he exited the house, and shaking her head she turned to the task at hand. This going to be a long month, if Sir Charles and Lady Eleanor decided to remain the full time. She doubted she had the patience to put up with an arrogant fool like Peter for a whole entire month, but he was an invited guest and would have to be endured. It would make it a whole lot easier if he would quit treating her like trash. This was her territory after all, he was in her home.
Rachel made an uncommon amount of noise that morning as she cooked the biscuits and eggs, clattering a few more pans and clanking a few more plates than normal. Her frustration showed clearly, and when elderly Hannah joined her in the preparations, she knew better than to speak to the girl. To talk to Rachel now would be asking for trouble- possibly in the form of going deaf.
When breakfast was served around the table that morning, Peter found Rachel to be rather clumsy. At least two glasses of water slipped from her fingers, spilling over him. Oh, and an egg just happened to slip off of the platter while she was passing it over him to her mother. Furious, wet, and covered in yoke, he quietly excused himself and left the room. Not however without first giving Rachel a look that warned her of future dangers.
***
Peter was furious when he marched from the dining room of his hostess that morning, and had not cooled down since then. Storming through the village streets was not helping his mood much, and the boy was completely unwilling to return to the house. His only other options were the woods and fields the hemmed the village, and as he was not feeling adventurous he chose the fields.
The summer sun scorched down on him as he meandered through the half-grown crops, wishing desperately that he could leave Her and her territory. He disliked even Rachel’s name, and had decided that she would be referred to only as “Her” in his thoughts. The white clouds skittering across the sky, the grasses and grains swaying slightly in the gentle breeze and the quick motions of birds, although far from the surroundings he was used to, were strangely calming. Even enjoyable.
“Good day.” The calm greeting jolted Peter from his brooding thoughts, and he whirled to face the speaker, who appeared oddly familiar. Hastily wracking his brain, Peter managed to place the other as Her friend, the one who she had been with the previous night.
“Good day,” he repeated with a slight nod, narrowing his eyes. What did the other want?
Tristan either did not notice the hostility in his gaze, or chose to ignore it. “Peter, isn’t it? I’m Tristan, if you didn’t catch that. I work in the stables, and Rachel has been my friend my whole life.” Peter snorted at that, and Tristan continued. “Oh, I know, she’s far from perfect, but really you should give her a chance. She’s a tad prejudiced, as you can see, but quite sweet under that.”
Peter shot Tristan a withering look; she was not sweet, in any way imaginable. No girl who would work her charms to ruin someone else’s family, even from miles away, could be classified as “sweet”. Instead of presenting this challenge Peter shrugged, feeling sorry for Tristan and all the others who had allowed Her to pull the wool over their eyes. “You feel for her?” he queered, wondering if they had any romantic inclination towards each other.
He noticed that Tristan flushed slightly as he looked away, most probably contemplating his answer. “Rachel and I have always been close,” he answered slowly, “but to her I am more a brother than anything else.” Sighing, Peter nodded. Yes, of course everyone would be “close” to Her. She probably had the whole village wrapped around her finger. Tristan glanced at him sideways, “What is it you dislike so much about her? You’ve only met once before, years ago, correct?”
“Correct…” Peter grumbled, uncertain how to reply. “It’s…difficult to explain.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes, “If you’d bother trying you may find yourself surprised by my ability to understand.”
“I find that highly doubtful.”
“Have it your way. If you are not willing to give Rachel a chance, I hope you shall not rule out our being friends, I find you quite interesting.”
Startled, Peter stopped and for the first time he really looked at Her friend. Tristan’s teasing eyes were serious as the met his gaze, smiling slightly but sincerely meaning every word he said. For once, someone wanted to get to know him. One time in his life, someone cared enough to ask to be allowed to become his friend.
Peter stared at the stranger, never having expected acceptance from someone like this, when he did not receive much from either of his own parents. Was it possible that he could let Her friend become his? So maybe he was being childish with the extent he expanded his dislike for Her, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t as though he’d been more than a child for long, anyhow. Slowly, he grinned back. Forget Rachel, she had nothing to do with this. He had a chance to be himself, and possibly be appreciated for doing so. He fully intended to take it.
“A friend doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” he responded slowly, and Tristan’s grin spread. A new idea caught his fancy, and a mischievous light danced in his blue eyes, “Now concerning your friend and my enemy Rachel, she made me quite wet and uncomfortable this morning. I do not appreciate wearing her food. Is there anything you would suggest to get back at her?”
Tristan laughed softly, “She dumped breakfast on you, did she? Now that is unpardonable, wasting perfectly good food like that! Yes, yes, I believe I can help you with revenge,” his eyes twinkled, “I dearly love to rankle that girl, her expressions are well worth being ignored for a day or so.”
Tristan turned to walk back into the village, and Peter fell in step with him. Perhaps this trip would be better than he could have hoped. He had decided that he could definitely like Tristan, after all.
****
It was late that night before Peter finally gave into his conscience telling him to return to the house, for though he had come back into the village earlier he had gone nowhere near his family or anywhere where She might be. Avoiding her had not been in the least difficult, and he had discovered that time spent with Tristan could be quite enjoyed. The only thing about his new friend that Peter disliked, was his poor judgement concerning Rachel- he could not see how the other boy could possibly be fond of her. Surely he would be able to see through her act, for he definitely seemed intelligent and knew her well.
Chuckling softly, he thought of the traps that they had laid for her earlier in the day, and could scarce wait to see her reactions to them. One thing he knew- she would not be pleased. And he was quite looking forwards to it.
Dinner was being served hen Peter walked in, and he casually seated himself at the table, ignoring the scolding frowns and indignant glances sent his way over his absence and impolite behaviour. Rachel breezed past him into the kitchen, and Peter avoided the gazes of those around the table. He barely maintained control of his mirth a minute later when a startled shriek and clatter came from the kitchen. Fish swimming in the water pitcher had been a most excellent idea. As expected however, Rachel did not share that opinion. When she returned with a fresh pitcher, looking composed and pretty, she shot a scathing glare in his direction before smiling sweetly at the rest of the table.
“I’m sorry, there seems to have been a little accident in the kitchen,” her eyes said otherwise as she stared pointedly at him, and he had difficulty keeping the beginning twitches of a smile from developing farther.
“Would you like a hand cleaning it up?” Peter responded innocently, and watched her closely. She opened her mouth to reply, and from her expression her first thought as an emphatic no. Then she shuddered, and slowly nodded. On the short trip into the kitchen, her suspicious eyes bore into him.
“Just get rid of the horrid fish,” she whispered, “don’t do anything else!”
Startled, Peter spared her a glance. Had she really sounded as though she were pleading, or was that his imagination? With a quick thought of the other two planned pranks, he began to feel slightly guilty. Brushing the feeling aside, he tossed her a glare as he picked up the pitcher with the fish- Rachel deserved everything she got.
When he returned, and the meal went without further hitch, he could plainly see the relief in her eyes when she glanced occasionally his way, although it was mixed with apprehension. By the end of the evening, she seemed convinced that she was safe. Peter smirked to himself upon seeing her relax. Oh, was this girl ever in for a surprise.
He excused himself early, making his way to the small room that he would be stuck in each night. It wasn't as dismal this evening as the last, for at least he had some entertainment to look forwards too. Sleep did not come, not that Peter really minded. He was hoping to be awake for it anyways. Sighing, he walked to the window, throwing the shutters open so that he could feel the cool breeze and watch the stars, at least this one thing was the same as home. Even his mother's over dramatic sigh as she had stared heavenwards and murmured, “I'm sure Rachel is watching these same stars...” on one night a few years before had not managed to rob him of the peacefulness he felt in them.
Blowing out a breath of frustration, the boy leaned over the wooden sill and into the cool air. For some strange reason, he found Rachel peaking his curiosity. He'd never liked her, and was more than convinced that he never would, but just the same, he wanted to know what about her his mother found herself so attached to, and why she acted in the ways she did.
The sound of soft footsteps on the creaking stairs pulled him from his thoughts, and he leaned back expectantly, allowing a sly grin to spread over his face. What he heard a few moments later, after the soft creaking of Rachel's door, was definitely not the shriek he expected. In fact, she did not sound frightened at all, but she had certainly noticed. Or, noticed something. Maybe it was not my trick...A soft, musical laugh reached my ears, causing me to scowl. She was not supposed to find this funny, she was supposed to be terrified.
Moments later, he could still hear faint giggles when the footsteps sounded again- towards the room he was in. Gritting his teeth, he leaned back against the wall and glared out the window, fully intending to completely ignore her. The determination withered, however, at the sharp rap on his door, as he wondered what on earth was the matter with the girl.
Oh that he was born without curiosity! It seemed a little late to change that, though. Standing slowly, he could feel his scowl fading into wonder as he made his way towards the door- and he didn't like it. He also did not like the fact that Rachel's laugh was beautiful, it would be so much more satisfactory if she'd sounded like the witch he was sure she was.
Sliding the door open slowly, Peter prolonged meeting Rachel's gaze by focusing unnecessarily hard on the handle. When he raised hesitant eyes, making sure to mask all emotion, surprise coursed through him. Nay, astonishment, for he was already surprised. Rachel had already unpinned her long dark locks, which were tumbling freely over her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with unvoiced laughter as she looked back at him, but this was not what caused his stunned reaction. Coiled around her arm, and half hidden by her dark hair, was the snake that had been wrapped around the inside handle of her door.
“Now Peter, really!” she giggled, “Isn't it a bit immature and cruel to put a snake in a girl's room? I should be outraged! And I will be, soon enough. Right now this is just too funny!”
Peter was furious, but didn't bother showing her. Not that she would even notice him...instead, he kept his expression blank. She had no right to make fun of him! Unfortunately, she didn't seem to realize. Untwisting the reptile from her arm with somewhat fondness, she draped it over his neck with one swift motion. Instantly, the emotional mask fell as he leapt away with a startled exclamation, trying to shake it off. Panic rushed over the boy's features as the cool creature slithered over him, seeming to avoid his clawing fingers.
Rachel blinked in surprise, not having expected such a reaction from him, but he didn't see the pity in her eyes, only the amusement as he managed to wrench the creature off and fling it away from him.
“Now now!” She exclaimed, admonishing him, “I'm sure Theodore didn't appreciate that!”
“You named it!?” He yelped, staring at the girl in disbelief, all the while keeping a wary eye on the slithering animal.
“Oh no, Bryan did.”
Now he was absolutely baffled, almost confused enough to forget his fear and anger. “Bryan?”
“Mhm!” Rachel smiled sweetly, bending down to scoop up the snake. “Tristan's cousin.”
Peter scowled, now Tristan's odd look and slight shrug when he had suggested a snake as a prank made sense. Being as impulsive as he was though, of course he didn't think to ask. Instead, he had grabbed a bag and tentatively put the snake that had inspired the idea by slithering around his feet and nearly causing him to jump out of his skin inside of it.