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Chapter 10

Chapter 10

If she had not been a woman of such strong character who completely abhorred the concept of crying, Ophelia would have broken down into tears. The pain in her right foot was unbearable and walking back to the manor felt like the most difficult task in the world.

Why did I even step out today?

She had known for weeks that both her boots were in a precarious condition, and she needed to either buy new ones or perhaps use the existing ones more carefully. She could hardly blame the boots since she had worn the same pair for years. These had been gifted to her by her father, and Ophelia was particularly attached to them. The good thing was that her height and foot size had not changed since, and she could still use them rather easily, but those days would soon end.

Both of them were now almost torn apart, the soles completely worn out. They provided no protection to her feet, and she was almost worried about her foot's condition at the moment. She could almost feel it was going to be awful.

The pain most certainly was.

"Just a few more minutes of walking, Ophelia. We will be home soon." She sighed deeply, giving herself false hopes since the manor was still a full twenty minutes away and the street was entirely deserted.

She was certain no one was going to pass by here and see her in her misery or offer her help. She had to endure this alone.

"But I have suffered through so much alone. What's a pair of worn-out boots and a blister on my right foot? I can endure this for a little longer," she told herself, forcing the tears to stay underneath her lashes as she took one painful step after the other.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

A loud, thundering pair of horse hooves greeted her ears just then, and Ophelia's head whipped in the direction, even though the carriage or the rider was nowhere in sight as of now. She was so overcome with happiness at the sound that she looked up at the sky as if thanking God for listening to her heart's plea and bringing someone here.

"Oh, please let it be a carriage from the manor," she whispered, still focused on the sound when a horse appeared in view, no carriage in sight.

Who is it?

To her surprise, it was none other than the one person she had never wanted to come across in such a terrible state: the earl himself. Ophelia looked back up at the sky, almost feeling betrayed since Edward's presence was nothing but an illusion of help. Interacting with him was already one of the most difficult things she ever had to endure, and she did not doubt that he would immediately want to help the moment he saw her.

God, please let me disappear.

But God was clearly not listening to her.

Despite that, Ophelia turned around and continued to limp towards the manor, making sure to keep away all pressure from her right foot where the blister was ever-growing. She was not going to stop at the side of the street like a damsel and wait for Edward to help her like a handsome knight in his riding gear. It was more than her pride could handle.

Her heartbeat only accelerated as the horse grew closer, and she could sense the exact moment his eyes fell on her back, but Ophelia was determined not to turn around. Something about his gaze made her burn from head to toe, and electricity coursed through her as he looked, his horse slowing down beside her within seconds.

Please, please let him pass by without noticing me.

Although, it was impossible. He recognized her strawberry blonde hair all too well, especially since Ophelia had felt him staring one too many times. She was certain he either loved blonde or long hair since he seemed to have a liking towards it.

"Miss Jennings?" his smooth, honeyed voice called out to her from behind, and she had no choice but to turn around and answer. Even if she were still a lady from the ton in front of his eyes, she would have to answer him out of respect, and right now, she was under his employment, forcing her to be even more amiable.

"My Lord," she curtsied as well as she could on her foot and turned to look at him.

Edward's face was etched in deep concern, and he jumped down from his horse immediately, his focus entirely on Ophelia's foot, which she rested a little above the ground, unable to keep it down fully. He must have noticed her limping even though Ophelia had magically wanted him to ignore it completely. Clearly, some things were too much to ask for her.

And God was refusing to listen.

"I cannot help noticing that you are walking differently. Are you hurt?" he asked, taking off his riding gloves as his beautiful chestnut stallion stood patiently, "What is the matter with your foot."

Oh God, why?

"The sole of my boot tore apart, but I continued walking on it, hoping it would not be much of an issue. But the constant touch on gravel and uneven ground has caused a blister on my right foot. It is rather painful," she replied honestly, her pain not allowing her to make up another excuse for it.

Even if she had wanted to hide the truth from him, she knew it was going to be entirely pointless.

"Miss Jennings, how long have you been walking on that foot, might I ask?"

"I was just returning from the village market," she replied guiltily, suddenly feeling like a little girl being scolded by her father.

"You have walked all the way from the village market till here on a blistered foot!? You are remarkably thick-headed for someone so smart," he scolded yet again, the concern in his eyes still evident.

"I was not left with much of a choice, My Lord."

Edward sighed, making Ophelia wonder why he looked so deeply upset about her wounded foot. She wanted to ask him the exact question but could not go ahead at the risk of sounding too interrogative or personal. She needed to remember their respective positions and the fact that he was simply her employer and nothing else.

"May I take a look at your foot if you do not mind? I must survey the extent of damage already caused."

"Take a look at my foot?"

Ophelia could not help being a little stunned at the question, feeling scandalized. She could not possibly take off her shoe and expose her foot in front of a man, for if someone found out she had gone to such lengths, it would be chaotic. Although, who was ever going to find out?

I am just a servant to him. Nothing more.

The idea would have been unfathomable if she were a lady, but she knew that for maids to show parts of their skin was completely normal. The strict idea of modesty that had been drilled into her mind since she was just a little girl emerged from her noble bearing, but she was no longer burdened by it.

"Yes," Edward nodded, "if you are comfortable, of course."

He must have sensed her hesitation.

"You can."

"Can you sit down right here?" He motioned towards the ledge running by the edge of the entire street, separating the uneven forest ground from the gravelled pathway.

Ophelia backed away carefully, taking a few careful steps towards the ledge as she winced in pain. She could notice how Edward's eyes scrunched up at her winces, the pain she was in making him uncomfortable as well. She still could not understand why he appeared so affected by it, but it felt heartwarming to have such concern.

"Should I take off my boots?" Ophelia asked, sitting down as Edward walked towards her.

"No, no, please do not bother yourself; you are already in such agony," he quickly replied, moving towards her. "I can take them off for you if that is alright?"

"Of course."

To her surprise, Edward sat down on one knee before her, the mere sight of him in such a position sending tingles down her spine. Ophelia could not understand how almost everything about him meant so much to her. He was quickly becoming much too important, and she did not like the progress of her feelings in regards to him, knowing how those feelings would never result in anything.

He carefully held her right foot in his hands and slowly removed the ankle-length boot, making sure to be extremely gentle with his touch. He did the same thing with her other boot as well before inspecting them closely, his eyebrows scrunched.

"These are excellent quality boots, Miss Jennings," he remarked, "They have just been worn out with usage and time, I assume."

"Yes," she nodded fondly, "my father gifted those to me."

Why did I just say that?

Edward gazed at her narrowly at the revelation but simply nodded without commenting. Ophelia could only imagine what he must be thinking knowing fully well that a working class man could never afford such expensive boots even after months of saving. She needed to be more alert about her replies and learn to lie better before the truth about her past came forward. That was the last thing she wanted.

"Your father had excellent taste."

Ophelia smiled.

Edward picked up her stocking-clad foot in his hands, and Ophelia raised her dress just a little bit so he could easily remove the stocking. His hands on her naked leg suddenly felt like more than she could endure, but Ophelia remained steady. She needed to make sure she did not react at all or let him have any hint of how he affected her, but her leg trembled at the touch while he carefully removed both her stockings and handed them to her.

"I am afraid your foot seems to be in terrible condition," he said, carefully holding her right foot from the ankle, his gaze drawn to the back of it.

Ophelia felt immensely better now that her foot was finally free of the boot and the stocking and away from the ground. The pain was still there, but it was no longer unbearable. Although, the moment she placed her foot on the ground, it would become awful again. She was already dreading returning to the manor.

"How bad?"

"You have a large blister on your right foot and several smaller sores on both of your feet. They are filled with pus; hence, we will have to call a physician to take a closer look and drain the pus out."

"That sounds like a painful process," she groaned involuntarily, already feeling jitters at the thought of it.

"Trust me, it will be much less painful than walking on wounded feet. I will take you back to the manor, and then we can send for the village physician. With a few days of rest and letting your feet be in the open, you will be immensely improved."

"I do wish to get better immediately."

"We shall return to the manor immediately."

She stared at his extended hand before looking at her naked feet, confused as to how she was supposed to get home without her boots. She could wear them again, but she knew the pain would only get worse, and she was not ready for that. As if sensing her predicament, Edward crept closer, his proximity causing the hair on Ophelia's back to rise in nervousness.

"May I?"

She was unsure of what he was asking, but she nodded anyway, unable to deny him much.

Without any hesitation, Edward effortlessly picked her up in his arms, holding her close to his chest as Ophelia gasped. Her heart began to race, but she kept her breathing in control, making sure Edward could not feel her condition. Despite that, some part of her kept reminding her that he felt this way as well. Their proximity affected him, too, or perhaps she was reading too much into his supposed emotions.

They both stayed silent as Edward carefully placed her on the back of his horse before quickly climbing atop himself, his stallion's reins secured in his arms. Every inch of Ophelia's body was snug against his chest, almost to the point where she could feel his beating heart.

Edward.

She had to control the urge to raise her hands and touch his face, which suddenly felt much within her reach, as if she was allowed to grab it. Although she knew she couldn't. He looked down at her, their lips just inches away, and Ophelia felt her throat drying up. She felt as if she had forgotten how to speak or act as they continued to stare, both of them unable to look away.

"Are you comfortable?" Edward finally broke the silence, blinking quickly.

"Absolutely."

He nodded and pulled the reins softly, the stallion galloping forward with top speed. Ophelia thrust back from the mere force of it, coming even closer to Edward, but he did not seem to have a problem with it. Even though he was busy riding, he allowed Ophelia to settle better into his arms, and she held onto his waist tightly, hoping not to fall.

However, a part of her knew that Edward would never let her fall. She was under his care and protection, and he would never let harm come her way.

You are just a nanny, Ophelia. Just a nanny.

She had to keep reminding herself of her position before Edward not to lose herself in the fantasy of his love. She had nothing to dwell over or worry about since he was being nothing but kind towards her. Kinder than she could have ever imagined.

Could he be in love with me? Ophelia shook her head at the mere absurdity of the thought.

"We are home," he whispered, and Ophelia turned to look at the other side of the mansion appearing before her.

She wished she could ask Edward to ride for a little longer so the two of them could stay this way, but she knew it was not proper. Even as a nanny, she had to maintain her distance and boundary with him as of now. He stopped the horse right by the front gate, his gaze dropping on Ophelia.

"I will make sure the physician arrives promptly."

Thank you, My Lord."

He jumped down and helped Ophelia as she limped back inside the mansion, almost glad that her boots had torn off because otherwise, she would never have shared such a beautiful moment with Edward.

***

Edward felt restless.

In his heart, he knew the reason behind his restlessness, but he had no desire to accept it. Ophelia had not come down for dinner for the past two days, and he had been unable to converse with her. It was a routine he had come to enjoy, but she needed her rest.

The physician had been called, and Mrs Bailey had informed him that Ophelia's foot was drained and bandaged, but she had been asked to rest and not walk unnecessarily for a few days at least. Hence, Edward was glad she had been resting. Just today, he had gone to town and bought her a new pair of buttery boots, their softness reminding him of Ophelia, and had sent them to her through a maid.

They were quite like her old boots, which had been worn out entirely.

He walked inside his study, his mind still on her beautiful blonde hair, when he found a small note placed under a paperweight on his desk. Edward quickly extracted it, the writing unfamiliar.

Thank you.

"Ophelia," he whispered involuntarily, certain that it had been her behind the note. She must have understood that the boots came from him. A smile graced his lips, which immediately vanished as there was a knock on the door, and Mrs Bailey entered inside shortly after.

"My Lord," she curtsied.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her, suddenly finding himself worried for Ophelia.

"Yes, of course, My Lord."

Edward looked at her expectantly, knowing she would never trouble him without reason. She must have something to say.

"I came to inform you that Lady Rosalina sent a message today from London. She will arrive to see you here in three days."

"Rosalina is coming?" Edward could not help being slightly excited, already looking forward to Rosalina's arrival.

If he had a favourite relative, it had to be Rosalina, considering she had been his closest cousin and an excellent friend. As per the letter she sent him a few months ago, she had recently got engaged to Lord Randolph Syke, the only son of the Viscount of Kilfort. Edward had been ecstatic at the news, having studied with Randolph at Cambridge and knowing he was a man of excellent character and insight.

"Yes, she conveyed how she misses you and is quite excited to be coming soon."

"Excellent!" Edward clapped his hands, feeling elated after several days. "Make sure the preparations are up to mark and everything is to her liking."

Mrs Bailey nodded and assured him she would do that before exiting the study. Edward was already looking forward to the next few days; with both Rosalina and Ophelia present, the house just might feel alive again.

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