Rose and the Thorn (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 9

Chapter 9
Patrick
Punch, punch, kick. Punch, kick, duck, punch.
Jenson and I boxed each other in the large room that was now my training room. It once was the spring sitting room, but a year after that night, Jenson thought it was time for a reason to get me out of bed. He had trained me every second day for the past four years.
Need to protect or they'll come again. Need to protect or they'll come again.
Punch, punch, kick. Punch, kick, duck, punch.
Again and again we did the rhythm, till Jenson said, "Okay stop."
I groaned almost falling to the ground in exhaustion.
"Good," I breathed, trying to catch my breath.
"You're always improving, Sir," he stated.
"I should think so, I've been doing this for four years," I said hugging the red boxing bag. It was my only way of standing.
I thought he would comment on that, but instead he said, "Sir, what do you think of Miss Rose."
I groan, where do I start, "She's arrogant, head strong, can't follow simple rules, rude, always tries to put her opinion in where it's not wanted and she is American. Does that tell you how I think of her?"
"Yes, quite so, Sir."
I tried to catch my breath before I asked, "What do you think of her?"
He sighed, "Well, yes, she's all those things you mentioned. But she is quite beautiful."
I couldn't reach his eyes, "If you like that sort of thing," I muttered taking a drink from my bottle.
"Clearly not everyone does, Sir."
"Clearly not."

Rose
"So, Rose, what do you think of Sir Patrick?" Jenson asked me as we ate our dinner. Tonight it was mush.
I didn't even have to think, "Well he's arrogant, he's rude, has to get his way, selfish, haven't worked a day in his life and he's, no offence, English."
"British."
I frowned at him, "Whatever. And the whole thing with having to have the house in the dark."
"He has his reasons."
"Yeah, which you won't tell me about?"
He took a spoonful of mush, "it's not my story to tell."
"So there is a story?" I asked, leaning forward. Was he finally going to spill the beans?
"Yes."
"How long ago?"
He signed, "Five years."
"Five! Five years, this place has lived in darkness for five years."
I couldn't believe it. No wonder the state it was in when I came. No one had look after it in five years.
"So you worked here when this 'thing' happened?" I asked.
"Yes," he took another spoonful of mush.
"Did he have other servants?"
"Yes."
I frowned, "What happened to them?"
"He fired them, well I fired them. He wasn't in the state of firing people."
His answer just made me even more confused.
"So it's been just the two of you?"
"Yes."
"Why did you stay?" I asked.
Jenson got more interesting by the day. He was no longer the snobby butler that scared me when I first came here.
He sighed, "I don't have a family, and I considered the Gilbert family as my own. And Patrick needed me. So I stayed."
"What happened?" I finally asked.
I needed to know so badly that it was like an inch. It was always the question at the back of my mind. Why happened? What made him want to shut away from the world? Was it to do with his scars on his body? What haunted him so much that made him still act the way he does over five years?
"That's something you're going to have to ask him."