Daniel Blythe's Story

Daniel felt a slight spasm in his left arm. It wasn't painful, but it caused his fingers to contract just slightly.

Where am I?

A similar spasm jolted through his other arm. Making a fist with his fingers to remove the sensation, Daniel moved his right hand to his head. He touched it gently and could almost feel the throbbing.

Oh damn the pain. Damn!

The young man opened his eyes and immediately shut them again, temporarily blinded by the tormenting sunlight which descended in cascading yellow rays through the large windows. Squinting through his lashes, he leaned over on one elbow and glanced around the room. Heavy curtains framed the two windows, dark in color but embroidered with a silver pattern. A small writing table was before the windows with a single chair beside it, both constructed from a deep-red wood. On the opposing wall stood a large bureau made of the same wood. In fact, all the furniture of the room seemed to match except the bed. The bed was adorned with a mountain of soft pillows and creme color sheets. It held a soft scent of lilac blossoms. Daniel smelled the faint aroma and threw himself back on the soft mattress with a low groan.

A Dutchess. He had found her yesterday in the gardens, watching the little sparrows bathe in a spring. She had been giggling at them--and he fell in love with the sound of her laugh. It carried a message of joy to all who could hear. For the briefest moment he lay still upon the bed and revered in the memory of it. 'Do you enjoy all creatures in this fashion?' He had asked her. Startled by his presence, but pleased by his appearance she spoke quickly 'Oh not all creatures. But these birds are such dears! Watch how they make splashes.' She was giggling, taking a step closer to Daniel and pointing to the puddle.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. He sat upright in bed instantly, his heart pounding. The daydream vanished as reality sunk in. Talking to wine, wine to ale, ale to bedroom, and carnal images flashed through his mind of the night previous.

"Morning Mistress, we have drawn your bathe. Are you awa--" the door swung open and the young maid faltered as she saw Daniel standing beside the bed, completely exposed. He spoke quickly, hoping to avoid her scream.

"No, please don't scream!" His voice was quiet with a hint of authority. "The Dutchess is already awake and somewhere about. I--" He froze for a moment and realized the maid was staring at him. Rolling his eyes he grabbed the nearest cushion and covered himself.

"--I am a...friend of your mistress. Now go and find your mistress while I.." His voice trailed off and his eyes pleaded with the young girl. She was a perfect shade of red and he couldn't predict whether it was from anger or embarrassment. For a moment tension hung heavy in the warm air, then the girl gave him a slight smile and quickly shut the door. Daniel sighed and found his belongings. Dressing in haste was almost a skill at this point in his life, and so was climbing out of windows. In a few minutes he was walking candidly through a stone gate and into the courtyard.

Daniel walked at a brisk pace through the courtyard hoping to distance himself from the mansion. A twinge of guilt probed at his heart. The Dutchess was a charming lady, and he felt no desire to hurt her feelings. Maybe it would be easier if he returned for morning tea? Or lunch? Would she even care to associate with him in public? A lady in her thirties in a relationship with someone so young..people would ask questions.

Debating these things in his mind, the youth turned a corner on the brick street and saw the Queen's gardens. On such a warm day the sun gave every flower a supernatural radiance and every leaf a verdant glow. The view held such serenity that Daniel stopped on the path and took it all in. A warm breeze blew from the garden, carrying the scent of ripe roses and willows. He breathed in deeply and decided to leave his current mental debate in favor of a stroll through nature.

The entrance to the gardens was an ivy-covered arbor, built in a crude fashion to retain the natural beauty of the place. There were many entrances along the perimeter of the gardens, but this was one of the few with a fountain by the entrance. Clear water spurting from the mouth of a stone angel, splashing gently into the reservoir below. Daniel smiled and plunged his hands into the cold liquid, splashing his face and rubbing around his neck and eyes. He drank two or three times, breathing deeply after each gulp. Feeling satisfied and refreshed, he continued deeper into the garden.

After walking perhaps a quarter-mile through the flowers and fruit trees, Daniel was approaching the portion of the gardens devoted to larger, untamed trees. The lower limbs were trimmed of course; but each tree towered above the standard cottage and was too massive for standard trimming. So the gardeners would monitor their health and population, only allowing a certain amount to grow at once. Simulating a forest without inundation, Daniel noted. He was enjoying how the foliage abated most of the sunlight and how the massive trunks hid him from the world. It was liberating, like one could just think here. He soaked up every second..then his eyes fell upon Lady Adams.

He stopped walking and considered his options. This was a grand stroke of luck, finding her alone without high society to fuss over protocol. But she was in a higher position than he, and he had heard stories from the other young men how she treated them coolly and without much interest. Books, that was all she cared for. He could see she was clutching one to her chest now, and oddly staring at a stone bench. The stance struck him as funny. Maybe it was the fresh fountain water, or maybe it was the serene feel of the gardens that emboldened him. Either or, he calmly strode until he was a few feet behind her.

"It really is quite a lovely bench, my lady. Do you prefer to stare at them rather than sit on them?" His voice was both calm and playful; and he could not resist a small smile as he spoke.

Daniel responded to her words with a merry laugh and returned her courtesy with a small bow. The rumors about her attitude were true--she spoke as if far away and not even attached to the earth. Nevertheless Daniel marveled at her quick wit and wondered what she might be capable of if her whole heart was devoted to a topic. In all his ventures through several countries, he found no one that matched his zeal for knowledge and application; but now a shred of fear [respect] worked into his mind as he briefly considered her potentional.

"Lady Adams, you are too wonderful. I fear for society as well." After the formality he relaxed his posture, allowing one hand to rest in his coat while the other aided in the conversation. Too often his mother had scolded him for letting his hands talk with his mouth, but it was a deeply ingrained habit. And truth be told this little habit added to the eagerness in his personality. Even now he was tapping his chest with an index finger, drawing attention to himself.

"Oh you probably think me rude! My name is Daniel Blythe, and it is my honor to meet you." He bowed again, this time sweeping his hand out dramatically. At that moment he imagined what he must look like--hair tousled and damp at the fringes from fountain water, a fine stubble around his mouth and neck, and his clothes rumpled from lying on the bedroom floor all night. His cheeks turned a shade pink and he chuckled softly to himself. Oh I am the perfect fool. I started this conversation, and now I have to end it abruptly before she forms the worst opinion of me.

He nodded pleasantly at the introduction, entertained at the constant fluctuation of her eyebrows. As if the only parts of her body which could move were those two slender patches of soft hair above her eyes. And of course those lips--each word was spoken slowly and calmly, with an air of ancient wisdom. But the rest of her body remained perfectly still, Daniel noted. As if words were all that mattered; not actions, not emotions, but words only. He pondered what this meant as she asked him a second question.

A bed of moss? Is she hinting at my disheveled looks or something more..? The young man laughed again, pretending to find her question humorous but actually laughing at the thought of this cold and distant girl flirting with anyone. He hung his head slightly to the side and studied her face for a moment with a warm smile still tugging at his lips. Those eyebrows.. by far her most expressive feature. And they arch to some unknown question: most likely confused and a bit annoyed at my presence. But beneath them--those eyes so bright and yet so cold. Like starlight. Was Lady Adams lonely? None of these thoughts showed on his face as he continued the conversation.

"Not this morning I regret, m'lady. As you have no doubt noticed I am in need of a new outfit and some grooming." He gestured to himself while speaking. Beginning to feel silly, a shy smile stole his face and he took a little step away from Rebecca. "I will leave you in the good company of .." He nodded to her book "..Tamar, though perhaps in the future I will entertain your invitation to a bed of moss." His eyes sparkled flirtatiously at the last statement, hoping to elicit some human reaction from those inhuman eyes--even if the reaction was anger.