Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Reuben stared at the blank parchment resting in front of him on his desk. He placed the quill back into the inkwell and sighed. He needed to send Corin a missive. The missive Corin had sent him had arrived a week ago. If he didn't send a reply soon, Corin would get worried and come out here to check on him. Reuben didn't know why that bothered him. It never had before. So why now?

He picked up the missive Corin had written and read it. Corin had reported that Candace was in bed but, so far, the baby was still safe in her womb. They weren't taking any chances after what happened during her last pregnancy. Then Corin apologized for leaving him all alone at the estate but added he knew Reuben understood, given Candace's condition. Then Corin had written that Judith was receiving good marks in her studies. After going into detail about the subjects Judith was learning, Corin then remarked on how Minerva was starting to get into everything. He had concluded by explaining why he had sent five books with the letter, saying that these were newly published and considered highly entertaining by the gentlemen who shared Reuben's reading interests.

Reuben glanced at the books that were on his bookshelf. He hadn't had time to read any of them. He didn't want to read anything when there was so much to do. With Amelia here, there was never a lack of any activity. At the moment, she was taking a bath. He had told her he was going to write to Corin before he checked on the wax he would need to start that statue of her. He had an entire week to think over what he was going to write to Corin. So why was this so difficult?

He was tempted to leave the library and just check to see how much material he had to make the bronze statue, but he couldn't keep putting this off. The sooner he wrote the missive, the sooner he could get it to the messenger who could deliver it to Corin. Then Corin would stay in London and leave him alone.

He retrieved the quill and took a deep breath. This shouldn't be hard. He'd written to Corin plenty of times in the past. Most of the time, he'd write stories he made up in his head or he'd write about the latest book he'd read and enjoyed. Their mother used to laugh when she saw how much he wrote. "That's quite a book you have there," she'd tease him. But Corin had said he read every word and was happy to see he was in good enough health to write so much. So, in some ways, he had rambled on in his missives so Corin would know he was fine.

And if you don't do that now, he'll know something has changed. Then he'll be out here.

Reuben studied the books in the bookcase. Was there one he hadn't written about in some time? Perhaps he might rehash that. He could tell Corin he hadn't gotten to the new books yet because he'd been catching up on some old ones. Corin would believe that. Yes, that would work!

Inspired, Reuben spent the next half hour regaling Corin with one of his favorite books. By the time he was done, he had managed to fill up three pages. He concluded his missive by saying that he was doing well and that all was in good condition at the estate. Hopefully, that would put Corin's mind at ease, and Corin would linger on in London. Yes, at some point, Corin had to find out about the marriage, but Reuben wanted to wait until he figured out the right words to explain why he'd take a wife when he wasn't as healthy as other gentlemen.

He sealed the missive then went to the entrance to have the footman deliver it to the messenger. The footman was leaving the manor just as Amelia approached him.

"You have good timing," Reuben said. "I just finished with the missive."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I'm sorry I kept you from writing to Corin sooner. I try not to keep you by my side every minute of the day."

He chuckled and drew her closer to him. "I don't mind. It's nice having you around. Besides, I like knowing you want to be with me so much. Do you want to watch me get started on that bronze statue of you?"

"Yes, I do. I've never seen someone make anything of bronze before. It'll be fun to learn how the process goes."

"I wouldn't get too excited about it. A lot of it is tedious and boring. I have to make wax images of you in pieces then put them together. The bronze comes a bit later."

"Well, as long as we're together, I don't think it matters what we're doing, do you?"

"No, I suppose not." Even sitting in the drawing room by the fire when it rained was interesting when she was around. He slipped an arm around her waist and led her down the hall.

***

That night, Reuben dreamed of the figure in the shadows. Tonight, the figure was hidden among the trees on the property. Thunder boomed in the background. A drop of rain fell from the sky. Soon, more drops would come, and since Reuben was in a forest, he was going to get caught in the storm if he wasn't careful. But first, he had to get away from that figure who watched him.

That undiscernible figure was the one constant in all of his nightmares. It always hovered nearby. It always watched him It always hid in the shadows. No matter how many times Reuben called out to it, it never answered back. Reuben usually managed to outrun the thing. Most of the time, he was able to hide from it before it could reach him. But there had been those few times when the thing lurched at him and pinned him in place. The hood surrounding the face hid the thing's identity.

Often, he suspected the thing was a person, but being that it appeared in dreams, it could be a monster. Reuben recalled stories his mother had read him when he was a child. In these stories, there were wolves, elves, or other creatures that would wear a cloak to conceal their identity. In the dream world, one wasn't limited to people. Any sort of beast could exist. And in the dream world, it was just as real as a person.

Lightning lit up the night, and Reuben saw the figure in its cloak as it headed toward him. Gasping, Reuben turned and ran. He could barely make out where the trees were as he wove around them. Thunder boomed, louder this time, and the ground under him shook. He stumbled and fell against a tree. He glanced over his shoulder. The cloaked monstrosity hadn't lost its balance. It was still standing upright, and it was coming toward him. It wasn't running, but its stride was purposeful.

Reuben pushed away from the tree and ran. Usually, some form of shelter would pop up in the course of a dream. Every nightmare, no matter how frightening, included a place of refuge. All he had to do was find it in this dream.

As he passed by one of the trees, the branches reached out and grabbed him. He grunted and fought against them, but they only grew tighter. A few drops of rain hit his face, and they were so hot that they burned. This rain wasn't made of water. It was made of acid. He renewed his efforts to get away from the branches. Just as he was about to free himself from them, the tree lifted him up into the sky. He searched for something that might cut them, but he carried no knife or sword.

Lightning flashed again, followed swiftly by thunder. Below him, the figure stood and waited. Though it peered up at him as the lightning crossed the sky, Reuben was still unable to make out the thing's face. In that hood seemed to span an eternal darkness. Perhaps the thing wasn't a person or a monster. Perhaps it was Death itself.

The figure lifted its arm. Lightning flashed again. The hand was gloved. The thing made a sweeping motion with its arm, and the branches flung Reuben through the air. The horrible sensation of falling consumed him before Reuben bolted up in the bed. He stared at the faint moonlight around him before he remembered he was safe in his bed.

It took him a long moment to move. It always took him a long moment before he could move. His body was tense, as if prepared to fight, and that awful pins and needles sensation pierced his feet. Once his heart rate calmed, he looked over at Amelia, who was sound asleep. Judging by the peaceful expression on her face, he guessed her dream was far more pleasant than his had been.

He gulped the dry lump in his throat and threw the blanket off of him. Careful not to wake her, he stepped out of the bed and put on a robe. He went to the pitcher and poured water into the glass, pretending he didn't notice the way his hands trembled.

Why couldn't he shake off these nightmares? Why did they keep coming? Year after year, they came every so often. He never knew when to expect them. They had no rhyme or reason. Today had been a good day. After he wrote to Corin, he had spent the day with Amelia working with wax. She had told him a lot of stories from her childhood.

Unlike him, she had spent most of her time in London, going to the circus, taking hot air balloon rides, and doing things he'd never done. The stories had been thoroughly entertaining, and before he knew it, it'd been time for dinner. Whenever he was with Amelia, time passed so fast. Without her here, each minute that ticked on the clock seemed to span an hour. He didn't understand why things were so different when she was here, but he much preferred for time to go swiftly than creep along at an unbelievably slow pace.

He took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and drank some water. The effects of the nightmare began to recede from his mind. Good. He didn't want to remember the details of the dream. With great relief, he turned from the pitcher. He let the robe fall off of his shoulders as he went back to the bed.

He slid under the blankets and drew Amelia into his arms. She let out a sigh of contentment and snuggled closer to him. This was nice. When it was just the two of them, it was easy to forget all about night terrors. She allowed him to focus on the better part of life. They had a future together. He suspected a lifetime might not seem long enough, but he was going to get enjoyment out of every day they had together.

Peace settled into him, and he closed his eyes. It was good to have a future to look forward to. A future of joy and laughter and love. It was going to be even better than he'd hoped when he went to London. He thought finding a lady to marry would bring him happiness. And it did. But Amelia did more than make him happy; she filled the hole in his life he hadn't known existed. She completed him.

He smiled. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, and this time, he dreamt far better dreams.