Sir Andrew Vol. I (rough draft)

Chapter Nine

Evelyn stepped across the threshold, holding tightly to the neck piece of her cloak to hide the chill that swept over her. Her eyes wandered the entry, where she stopped, noticing the stairs which twisted out of view. Unlike her father's manor, the walls were a lighter colour of stone, trimmed with deep brown wooden planks. Although the threshold was chilly, warmth seeped from the solar room ahead.

"I shall show you your room if you wish." Andrew outstretched a hand to her.

Evelyn nodded, taking his hand and walking at his side up the steps. He is... he is my husband. Her mind spun as she watched her feet.

Andrew slowed, releasing her hand as they reached the top. They were in a hallway. "The second door here is my room, and the one beside it is yours. The servants furnished it specially for your arrival." he creaked open the wooden door.

She swallowed down her nerves, nodding. Her mind, however, was far from the furnishings of the room. She stepped forward, glancing around briefly. "We are to stay in separate rooms?"

Andrew stayed at the doorway, watching her. "Unless you wish otherwise."

Does he not want to take me for his own? She swallowed to dispel her nervousness.

"You are welcome to come to my room. I only wanted you to be comfortable, if this is--"

She turned, blushing the instant their eyes met. "Thank you."

He smiled, bowing. "You are welcome, my love."

Her heart stuttered over itself. For a moment, she could not speak. Her palms were sticky as she twisted her hands together. What do I say?

"Sleep well, Evelyn." he rested a hand on the door.

"Sleep well." she said in a small voice before watching the door shut behind him.

But as the moments passed and she sank down on her bed, she could catch no rest. Indeed, she tossed and turned for over an hour, listening to her own thoughts. Every few moments, she flinched at a creak in the manor. Her eyes flew open as she clenched the blanket tighter. A chill shivered down her spine. I shall never be able to sleep alone in this bedroom. Not when I know Andrew is just down the hall. Why would he leave me alone? Does he think I am afraid of him? I must go to him. I cannot do this. He does not know how long I dreamed of his presence every night before our wedding, wishing he could sleep beside me. Finally, she rose, slipping a robe over her shoulders and rushing out of the room.
The hallway was pitch black, and the manor was deadly silent. With every move, her feet seemed to weigh more. She flinched when the floor creaked under her. Still, she crept farther down, keeping a hand on the wall to guide her. The stone wall stopped where a wooden door began. She froze, holding her breath as she knocked gently.

Another knock. Still, all was silent around her. She gulped, glancing down the hall as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Inhaling, she knocked a third time.

She flinched when footsteps drew near.

Andrew reached the top of the stairs, walking towards her. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

Evelyn faced him, wishing she could decipher his face in the darkness. "I cannot sleep. Not alone in that room. Please do not stay away. You said that I could come to your room if I wished." her whisper faded as she looked past him. "Where were you? Why were you not sleeping?"

"You are not sleeping yourself."

"You must come sleep in the bed with me."

"I must?"

"It is your room. If we are to remain here the rest of our lives... do . . . do you not think we should stay in the same room? Do you not want to stay with me? If I wanted to remain alone, I could have stayed in Norwich, at my father's manor. Do you think I am afraid of you now?"