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Chapter 6

Author: JK Romance
last update Last Updated: 2022-04-12 13:41:22

"Lady, are you crazy?!!! Do you think it's easy to get this cure?!!!" Madam Nora lashed out, her eyes flashing in anger.

"Jesus!" Matthew stared down at the spilled potion.

"Madam, what do we do now?"

Madam Nora snorted.

"Tell you what, young man. You're wasting your time and effort for this ungrateful miss. She is not worthy of your compassion."

"Please, can you make another one? I'll go get the flowers." He pleaded, afraid the offended Madam would refuse to help.

"No need. She is lucky I still have one cup left."

"Oh, thank God." Matthew sighed in relief.

Taking the pot off the cooking stove, Madam Nora poured the remaining potion into another cup and brought it back to Arabella, who immediately stiffened at the sight.

"You'll never get me to drink that!"

"Now you hold that girl for me, young man." The Madam ordered. Arabella gasped when Matthew turned toward her.

"No, no. Don't you dare-"

She twisted when he clasped her from behind.

"Let go of me, bastard! You're going to regret this!!!"

Not wasting words, Madam Nora pinched her nose. Arabella struggled in Matthew's hold, her head tilted back. When she gulped some air, the woman poured the medicine into her mouth. Arabella choked and retched, but Matthew steeled himself and contained her struggle. Not until she finished every last drop did he release her. She coughed up noisily, gagging on the horrid taste of the medicine.

"Boy, fetch me some water! Quick!" She barked. Despite the pressing request, Matthew had the grace to ask politely.

"Madam, can I get some water?"

The madam nodded.

"There's a jug and a cup in the kitchen, young man. You're welcome to help yourself."

Quickly Matthew filled a cup and handed it to Arabella, who emptied it at a gulp. He turned toward the madam, feeling grateful for her generosity.

"Thank you, Madam."

"You're welcome. Now I have to clean up the mess your lady friend has just made."

"Please forgive her, Madam. I'll do the clean up."

Madam Nora crossed over to the bed and pulled the stained blanket off her. Arabella curled her body immediately as if she'd just been stripped off of her clothes.

"Thank you, now I have to wash this rightaway, or the stain will be difficult to remove."

Arabella gave her an irritated glance.

"No need to be offensive, I'll pay for the damage. You can throw away that old blanket and buy a new one."

She took off her necklace and tossed it on the bedside table.

"That will get you a lot."

Madam Nora's face turned red with anger.

"Listen, young lady! I don't want your money. That blanket is my grandmother's! I won't trade it with gold!"

"I apologize, Ma'am!" Matthew hurriedly broke in, afraid that the girl would further offend the madam. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. I'll wash it rightaway!"

Without waiting for her response, he took the blanket from the madam and rushed out of the house.

Some minutes later, Matthew had drawn a bucket of water from the well at the front of the house. Soaking the thick blanket into the water, he rubbed some soap and scraped the material against the washboard. His wounded hands hurt badly, but he didn't stop until the stain was completely removed.

Turning her dizzy head on the pillow, Arabella gazed out the window, watching the thug hang the blanket out to dry. After he'd finished the laundry, he returned to clean up the shards of the broken cup and scrub the floor.

His good intentions seemed to satisfy the Madam, because he was rewarded with a simple yet delectable meal afterward. A warm, hearty stew flavored with mushroom served with boiled potatoes.

From her bed across the room, Arabella gazed with envy and longing as the Madam ladled out the stew for Matthew. Her mouth watered and her stomach gurgled, but her stubborn pride wouldn't allow her to admit it. For a moment, Matthew stared in awe into his plate, but then he glanced at Arabella across the room.

"Can I share this with my friend?" He asked the madam.

"We are not friend! Even our blood isn't the same color." Arabella snapped. Her haughty remarks earned her a scolding glare from the madam.

"Show some respect, lass. This man has risked his life to save you."

She gave a mocking chuckle.

"One could hardly die from picking a bunch of flowers."

"Do you know the flowers grow on top of a steep hill? One has to climb over fifty feet to reach the top. Many men lost their lives trying to get there."

That immediately reduced her to silence. She'd never expected him to go such great lengths for her. Now she was more than a bit impressed. She wondered what made him eager to risk his life for a stranger like her.

Later when the madam went outside, she scurried to the window. Careful not to be seen, she ducked her head beneath the window and peeked out from the windowsill. She found him standing in front of the well, not wearing a shirt. He bent to pull a bucket from the well, a sheen of sweat coated his smooth, bare back. His trousers sagged a little, slightly revealing the cleft of his firm and fine backside. The next minute, he turned his back only to expose more of his magnificent physique. Moonlight bathed his skin in a white-silvery glow, creating a bold contrast of light and dark over the slab of muscles in his bare torso. Except for his refined features, he had a strong, all-male physical form, so different from the men of her circle, with their pale complexion and soft, lily-white hands.

Putting the bucket of water on the ground, he sat on the front porch, then took his discarded shirt nearby. He was just about to submerge the fabric into the water, when the Madam came and stopped him.

"Your hands won't heal if they are continuously exposed to water. Here, put this salve on the wounds. You can wash your clothes tomorrow."

She heard the Madam say as she handed out a small pot to him. He put his dirty clothes aside and took the salve.

"Thank you, Madam."

The Madam left him alone, shuffling to the privy in the backyard.

Arabella couldn't see clearly how bad the wounds were, but from the little sounds he made as he applied the salve to his hands, it must have been sore and smarting all day long. Still, he washed the thick blanket and scrubbed the floor to clean up her mess without complaining.

Arabella started when the outside floor creaked, and the madam's footsteps approached. She must have been sinking deep in her thoughts, she didn't notice that the madam had come back. Quickly she turned around and scurried back to bed. In her haste, she knocked her knee hard on the table. Clutching his painful knee, she hopped across the room into the bed. The madam entered the room right on cue when she'd pulled the blanket over her head.

Since Arabella occupied her bed, Madam Nora slept on a shabby sofa near the fireplace, while Matthew settled himself near the door, wrapping himself in a worn, somber-colored blanket. He stayed awake until midnight, listening to the crackling of fire in the grate. The gentle flame cast a warm glow over the walls and floor, making the inside of the vintage house look like an illustration he'd once seen in a storybook. The quiet, restful atmosphere of the house at night reminded him of the comfort of a home, of family, which now was had only in memory. He contemplated his unfortunate life. He had no hope for a decent life, a better future. Even so, never for a second he felt sorry for himself, but now, for the first time, he felt a wave of shame and remorse of his sordid existence. He wished he was someone else. Someone who had a better life. Someone who was worthy of love. Somebody good enough to suit a lady. With so many thoughts on his mind, it seemed for a while morning would arrive before he could fall asleep, but eventually he drifted off to an exhausted slumber.

Despite his plan to rise early, Matthew woke up late the next day. Morning had broken for quite a while. The bed where Arabella slept yesterday was empty, and both the girl and the Madam were nowhere in the house.

With the blanket wrapped around his body, he hurried outside and found his shirt had been washed and hung on the clothesline. The damp clothes blew in the morning breeze that carried a clean scent of soap

A short distance away, he saw Madam Nora standing by the fence, feeding the chickens. He scuttled across the small field and greeted the woman.

"Thank you for helping me wash my clothes, Madam. That's so kind of you."

Madam Nora turned toward him, a deep furrow marked her forehead.

"I didn't wash your clothes."

"But, how-"

He halted midsentence when his gaze met Arabella's, who had just come out of the privy a few yards away, walking in his direction. She averted her gaze as she passed him, turning her face away as she hurried into the house.

"Yes, young man. Your guess is correct, but you better pretend you don't know about it, or you'll just humiliate her."

He heard Madam Nora say. His gaze snapped back at the Gypsy woman.

"What?!!"

He stared at her in disbelief, but the woman didn't look like she was joking.

"She's attracted to you, though she'd rather die than admit it."

"No way. She is a lady, and I'm a nobody."

"You have no idea what you're going to be. What you can be."

Madam Nora regarded him with a look that gave him goosebumps.

"You have a very bright future ahead of you. You're destined for greatness and wealth. Soon you'll meet someone who will change your life and be of guidance towards your betterment. You will have friends in very high places. I see nobles and gentry waiting in line, begging to enter your place."

How absurd, Matthew couldn't help thinking. He never believed in fortune telling, but the woman had been most helpful and generous, so not saying anything to offend her was the least thing he could do. He stood listening patiently as Madam Nora continued with her prophecy.

"You will have everything once you never dare to dream of, and much more. You will be walking on gold. You can buy anything you want except one thing."

The madam paused, her eyes gleaming uncannily.

"Respectability. No matter how much money you'll have, you can never buy it. You belong to the darker side."

She turned toward the door, where Arabella disappeared not so long ago.

"That lass, she shall be setting her cap on you, and you won't be able to resist her charms, but there will be another one. Her devotion knows no bounds. You will be caught between them, two women who are equally important to you. You will be torn."

It was getting more and more absurd, but not willing to show his skepticism, Matthew asked politely.

"If so, give me a clue which one is right for me?"

The Madam's wrinkled face broke into a mysterious smile.

"Only your heart knows the answer."

To be continued

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