Chapter 30
Jude woke up with a start. He had been dreaming about Evelina again. His mind had wandered, and he had been making love to her with such intensity that it stunned him.
He stirred in the bed. He was so aroused it was almost unbearable and filled with a burning desire to see her in the flesh. He waited for five minutes, waiting for it to subside, but the urge grew stronger. He couldn’t take it for another second. He slipped out of the bed, dressing quickly, stealing out of his room and into the grounds.
It was cold, but he barely registered it. His feet were leading him to her as if they had a mind of their own. He knew where her bedroom was. He had seen her looking out the window a few times. When he got there; he stared up at the window longingly, before picking up a few pebbles and throwing them.
He did it for five minutes before he stopped, sour with disappointment. Was he losing his mind? He was standing outside her window, hurling pebbles at it, like a maniac. If anyone saw him, they would probably arrange for his quick removal to the local lunatic asylum.
But just as he was going to turn away and skulk back to his room, he saw a candle flicker to life within the room. The curtains moved. And suddenly, there she was, gazing down at him in astonishment, her long black hair loose and falling down her back.
He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
She opened the window, leaning out. “Jude,” she said in a loud whisper. “What are you doing?”
“Come down to me,” he whispered back. “Please.”
She hesitated for a moment before she nodded, closing the window. It seemed an eternity before he saw her approaching him. She was dressed in a long white nightgown, with a thick woollen shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her hair cascading down, blowing slightly in the breeze.
“What is it?” she whispered, her blue eyes wide. “Why are you standing at my window?”
“I had to see you,” he whispered, his heart thumping hard. “I do not know why.” He sighed heavily. “That is a lie. Idoknow why, but it is not a rational reason. I just needed to be with you.”
He reached out, taking a tendril of her hair, caressing it.
“You are feverish,” she said, her eyes raking over his face. “You have a high colour.”
He smiled ruefully. “The only fever I am burning with is a fever of longing for you,” he said slowly. “I know it must stop, Evelina. I know it is hopeless. But as much as I try, it seems to grow worse, not better.”
She gasped, tears entering her eyes. “I have the same fever,” she admitted. “I am possessed of the same sickness as you are.” She reached out, taking his hand. “Shall we walk?”
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She led him silently through the gardens to the gazebo which was located right in the centre of the vast grounds. The roof of the structure was blanketed in thick snow. But when they entered it, sitting down, he was surprised by how much warmer it was within the structure, out of the frigid breeze.
He gazed around, suddenly noticing the nativity scene that must have recently been erected. He hadn’t noticed when he had passed by here yesterday.
It was an old ceramic nativity, the figurines vividly painted. Mary bent over the manger where the baby Jesus lay in the hay. Joseph watched the mother and child while the three wise kings and shepherds knelt before the newborn. And suspended from the roof of the gazebo, hovering above the nativity, was an angel dressed in white with golden wings and a halo.
“It is beautiful,” he said, in a husky voice, reaching out to take her hand. “Is this why you led me here?”
“Yes, it is,” she whispered, her eyes softening as she gazed upon the serene scene. “I remember when my mother first set up this nativity set in the gazebo. It was a special place where we would come and pray together in the lead up to Christmas.” Her eyes filled with tears again.
“I miss her so much, Jude. My family is not the same anymore. She was the glue holding everything together. I barely know my brother and have never liked him. And my father is like a stranger to me now.”
He was still burning with fever for her, his dream fresh in his mind, but he heard the sorrow in her voice. She was upset, and he didn’t think it was just about the memories evoked through looking at the nativity scene.
“Evelina,” he said in a gentle voice. “Has something happened?”
She gave a little sob, leaning her head against his shoulder. “It is over, Jude,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “It has all been arranged. Mr. Beaumont and his parents came to dinner tonight. It has been agreed that our betrothal will be announced at the Christmas Eve ball.”
His heart hit the ground. It wasn’t unexpected. And yet, the news hit him with the force of a brick to the head.
I am losing her. I will lose her forever.
He squeezed her hand, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. He let the full force of it wash over him like a crashing wave. The sorrow of it and the loss were unbearable.
He had only known her for a short while. And yet, he felt like he had known her forever. He felt like when he had first met her he had been expecting her, in some strange way. He didn’t understand it, but he knew it was true. He knew that whatever was between them was real. It was just the outside world that wasn’t entirely real any longer.
And as he turned to her, gazing down at their joined hands, he knew it. He knew he loved her, that perhaps he had loved her from the very first moment, that maybe he had always loved her and had just been waiting for her. Perhaps that was the reason he had never been able to commit to any woman before.