Summer at the Sea Ch. 05

Paul effortlessly twirled Rose around. They would take two steps, she would place her hands on his shoulders and he would lift her up off her feet, almost throwing her into the air, and she would land soundly on her feet and they would do the steps all over again. She was dizzy, she was laughing, she...froze.

She landed on the floor with a crash and the music in the room stopped, as if the band was playing just for her. There were a few loud gasps followed by a flurry of feet plodding in her direction.

"Rose!" she heard Paul exclaim. "Rose! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

For a moment, she felt weightless as someone scooped her up into their arms and carried her away from the brightly lit room. Somewhere in the distance she heard someone say something about her and the music started up again – dull, eerie and distant.

**

"She's okay!" a voice called from the other side of the room. She stirred and opened her eyes slowly, the candlelight on the table next to her was too piercing for her to handle at the moment. She shielded her face from the warm glow and rolled onto her side. Her hips were aching, she had a piercing pain in her wrist when she moved and the back of her head thudded and throbbed.

A weightiness surrounded her and she heard someone say, "Give her some air."

"Rose..." it was the voice of her mother. "Rose, can you hear me?"

"Of course she can hear you," she heard her father say. She shooed her hand in the direction she heard her mother's voice. She didn't want to deal with her right now.

"I'm fine," Rose mumbled, her tongue tripping over the simple words.

"She hit her head pretty hard," the strange voice said, somewhere in the directions she'd heard her father's voice. "Everything seems fine."

"I'm fi-i-ine," Rose said, a little louder this time. "My head is..." her words trailed off.

"She may have sprained her wrist, so we'll keep that immobilized for the next few days, let me know if there's any swelling..."

"Nothing's wrong with me," she said, her eyes still closed. She shook her head back and forth and immediately groaned in pain when the thudding in the front of her head started up again.

"What should we do?" her mother asked softly.

"Let her rest," the voice replied. "If anything happens, let me know. I'll come back in the morning."

**

Rose sat on a large stone that overlooked the ocean. She looked down at her arm, her hand and wrist were bandaged up tightly and the side of her pinky finger was black and blue. She was convinced she'd broken her finger, but the doctor told her otherwise – it was just a bruise. Her gaze traveled down to her leg and she frowned at the floor burn that had spread across the side of her calf. She couldn't remember what had happened. Her parents told her that Paul had skillfully tossed her into the air during a complicated dance move and she landed wrong. She had no choice but to believe them.

"Rose?" she heard Paul's timid voice behind her. She turned her head towards him and before he could say anything further, she saw his voice catch and his face twist in regret.

"My fault," she said, holding her bandaged arm up to see.

"Oh Rose, I'm so, so sorry," he said, rushing to her side and kneeling next to her. She shook her head and pulled her arm into her lap.

"What happened?" she whispered, gingerly stroking her black and blue finger.

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head, "the song was almost over and I threw you up in the air and you just...froze."

"The doctor said I hit my head really hard," she said, reaching back and gingerly rubbing at the sore spot at the base of her skull.

"You did," he said, nodding, unwilling to meet her gaze. "I thought you were out cold."

"I don't remember anything," she said.

"That's what your father said," he said.

"You've been talking with my father?" she asked, trying to meet his eyes.

"I'm always talking with him," he replied dumbly.

"About what?"

"You."

Her heart jumped and she suddenly felt a familiar pounding sensation in the back of her head. She buried her head in her hands and folded her arms over her knees. Silently, she bit into the hem of her dress and breathed heavily, waiting for the moment to pass and the pounding in her head to subside.

"Rose..." he murmured cautiously, "should I fetch...?"

"No," she said quickly, not looking up. "I'm fine." She took a deep breath, raised her head and trained her gaze on the horizon.

"Good. I have a question for you, Rose," he said. His voice was swimming with nervousness and her heart pounded so loud it was all she could hear.

"Please," she panicked, not turning her gaze to him.

"I've spoken with your father..."

"No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, "not now, please..."

He trailed on like a broken recording and Rose tuned him out, not hearing a word he said. Suddenly, he went silent and she dared herself to turn her head to him.

"Marry me?" he asked, though his request was more of a question and his face was filled with uncertainty and worry. Immediately, she burst into tears and buried her head back in her knees. The pounding in the back of her head returned swiftly and her face burned with embarrassment and shame.

"Rose, please..." he trailed off again and when she finally raised her head and turned her attention back to him, he had placed an open ring box at her feet. Tears fell freely down her cheeks and she could tell just by glancing at him that he was wracked with concern. She shook her head, but gingerly lifted the ring in it's box and carefully examined the diamonds and sapphires that studded the ring.

"I've only known you a couple of weeks," she said quietly, running her finger over the largest rock.

"And in those couple of weeks I know that you're the one for me," Paul explained. "You're the only one that I want. I dream about you at night and you're all I think about all waking hours of the day. Please Rose, please do me this honor."

She turned her head away, closed the box and handed it back over to him. "I can't honor you..."

He pushed the box back into her hands and softly kissed her knuckles. "But...I want you!"

She shook her head again, more tears streaming down her red cheeks, but didn't refuse the ring. She muttered his name so sadly that he felt he had no choice but to throw his arm tightly around her shoulders.

"Your father and I have been talking..."

"I know, I know."

"We...he thinks this is best."

She nodded and tentatively opened the box again. The diamonds and sapphires sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight and she wondered for a moment whether or not James would choose such a ring for her.

"The blue in the sapphires matches the blue in your eyes," Paul remarked.

She nodded and reluctantly took the ring from it's box and slipped it over her finger.

"Is that a yes?" he asked nervously.

"I don't have any other choice," she whispered under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Yes."

**

James noticed the bandaged arm and was about to ask what was wrong when he saw the unmistakable glint of a precious stone on Rose's hand.

"Rose..." he didn't even have to say another word before she burst into tears right in the middle of the entryway to his home. He quickly closed in on the space between the two of them and embraced her tightly in his arms.

"I feel so awful and my head hurts and my arm hurts and my heart hurts," she cried against his chest. "He came up to me when I was trying to sort my thoughts and he just kept pushing the damn ring into my hand and..." she stopped and raised her eyes to his, "I don't think I had any other choice."

James shook his head and took her left hand. He enveloped her hand in his own and kissed her softly and slowly on her forehead.

"I don't want him," she whispered and she pressed her wet cheek against James' warm chest.

"I know," he said quietly. He slowly ran his hand up and down her back, trying to comfort her as best he could while she stood there crying. He wanted to say something – anything – of reassurance, but the truth was, he couldn't bring himself to say anything. The large diamond ring was like a dagger in his chest and he wasn't sure if he should be mad at Paul, Rose's father or Rose herself for saying yes.

"I never dreamed he would ask me so soon," she said, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest. "I had hoped that you would ask me or... I don't know!"

He stood silently for a minute, his thoughts racing through his mind and boldly said, "What if I don't want to marry?"

Abruptly, Rose stopped crying and looked into James' face as if he had two heads. He shook his head and wordlessly moved his mouth trying to take back what he'd just said or figure out a way to fix it.

"You want to be alone for the rest of your life?" she asked, incredulously.

"No, no," he replied, "I just...there's a way around this. For you."

She immediately scoffed and looked off to the side of the room, "My mother has already started suggesting china patterns and my father and Paul have already started discussing where we're going to live and what sort of future I'm going to have."

"That means nothing," he said, "what matters is you have a say in all this, too. You get to choose when your wedding is, you can't let your fiance, or your family for that matter, control you."

She gave him a curious, sideways glance, "Go on."

"There's nothing saying you can't call it all off..." he said.

"But at what cost to me?" she asked. "To you?"

He pursed his lips together and shrugged, "As far as anyone knows, we're simply casual acquaintances."

"And me?"

"You're in a defenseless state right now," he argued. "Look at you, your arm is bandaged, your head is sore, from what I heard, you had quite a tumble the other day. No one's saying that you can't feign confusion for the events that have unfolded."

**

She knocked softly on the door of her father's study.

"Come in," she heard from the other side of the door. She took a deep breath and slowly swung the door open. "Rose, my beautiful Rose..."

"Hi Papa," she said in her sweetest, most demure voice.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, turning over the book on his desk.

"It's about Paul..." she replied quietly.

"What about him?"

"And me," she finished.

"Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, stopped, then nodded thoughtfully, all while nervously twirling the engagement ring on her finger.

"Rosie," he said softly, "I want nothing but the utmost happiness for my eldest and only daughter. What's the matter?"

"I think I made a mistake," she said.

Her father nervously cleared his throat, "Mistake?"

"My head..." she winced a little as she touched her fingers to the still-tender spot at the back of her head. "I haven't been thinking clearly and..." she pulled the ring off her finger and flipped it back and forth between her thumb and index fingers.

"Are you...what are you doing?" he asked.

"I've known him for such a short time, Papa," she said. "And he's a nice boy but...I don't know him well enough. I certainly can't promise him anything right now. Especially not something as serious as this."

"Did he do something to offend you?"

"No, no, nothing of the sort. I just...I can't."

Her father sighed and slowly stood, "Sleep on it."

She shook her head and lowered her gaze to her feet.

"I'll talk to Paul in the morning," he said. "But I suggest you do the same as well."

**

Paul retreated to the city after Rose returned his engagement ring. She didn't flat-out tell him that she wasn't able to marry him, but she did say that she wasn't ready yet and needed more time before she could make such a life-altering decision. She wished that he had taken her news better than he did, though. He snatched the ring from her hand and stormed off in the other direction. She briefly considered going after him, but ultimately decided that it would send the wrong message, so she held her ground.

"That was the last I saw him," she said directing her gaze towards the sky above.

"Does that upset you?" James asked.

She shook her head and laughed softly, "No, but..." she thought for a moment, "It was such a nice ring."

"I'm amazed someone as young as him would be able to afford such a jewel," he said quietly, he leaned in close to Rose and tickled the tendrils of hair that hung around her ear. "I can't promise you anything..."

She turned to him, her eyes wide with curiosity and he kissed her softly on the lips.

"Present?" she whispered.

He smiled and reached into his pocket. "Don't get excited, I'm not proposing marriage to you." He placed a small, velvet box in her hands and nodded, urging her to open it.

"Are you sure?" she asked with a sly smile. "Father has been especially quiet to me since I spoke with Paul."

"I'm sure," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "Open it."

She opened the box slowly and nearly squealed with glee when she saw the unmistakable sparkle of a diamond from within.

"You're absolutely sure?" she asked, the excitement in her voice building.

"I'm absolutely positive," he replied. "Wear it on your right hand so you don't raise any suspicions."

"What will I tell my family when they ask about it?" she asked, carefully removing the ring from the box and slipping it over the ring finger on her right hand.

He leaned close once again and kissed her softly on her tender neck below her ear, "Simple. Don't wear it around your family."

Her mind went fuzzy and for a moment she forgot about the party she'd just retreated from and the music she could hear from the other side of the expansive garden. The ring on her finger sparkled and glittered in the moonlight and it was an incredibly beautiful ring – even more beautiful and elaborate than the one she'd received from Paul just a couple of days before – embellished with rubies the same color as Rose's lips and a diamond as big around as the tip of her finger. She wondered briefly, if this was the ring that James gave to her as a gift, what would an engagement ring from him look like? Immediately, she began thinking about engagements and marriage again and her head leveled back to reality. She couldn't wait for James forever. Eventually Paul or her parents or anyone would get suspicious.

"James..."

As if he could read her mind, he immediately silenced her, pressing his lips firmly against hers. She tried to push him away, but his arm around her waist and his hand at the back of her neck were too strong for her to pull away from. She mumbled his name against his lips and he pulled away swiftly, his eyes filled with an emotion that she had rarely seen in him before – anger.

"Maybe the gift was a bad idea," he snapped, grabbing the empty ring box next to her.

"James, I just..."

He didn't say another word before turning around and retreating to the other side of the garden.

**

There was a soft knock at James' bedroom door. However, he'd heard the soft padding of her feet along the hallway before he'd heard her knuckles softly rapping away outside.

"Come in."

Rose slowly entered the room and quickly shut the door behind her. She stayed put in front of the door, her head low, her gaze pointed to her toes. James couldn't lie, she looked radiant standing on the other side of the room. The ring he'd just given her seemed to catch every light source in the room and twinkled at her hip.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, shrugging her shoulders.

He shook his head, "Come here."

They hadn't had a single romantic encounter since the night he took her virginity. They had seen one another briefly, in passing moments, but after her dance accident, her parents had kept a close eye on her and she had been unable to sneak away from her family's home. Tonight had been the first night in a week that she'd been on her own – out and alone with nowhere to be or to go. It was kismet that the night just happened to be the garden party James had been planning since the spring.

"I didn't think you would be up here, honestly," she said, crossing the room. "I thought you would still be downstairs somewhere entertaining your guests."

"I'm not a young man anymore," he said, "I need my rest."

She nodded, "So do I." She took a seat next to him on his massive bed, slipped off her shoes and tucked one of her feet underneath her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. She looked down at her arm – she'd removed the bandage around her sprained wrist, but her finger was still swollen and bruised and her leg was still slightly red from the floor burn.

"Broken," she replied in a whisper.

"It'll get better," he said, softly running his thumb over her bruised finger.

She looked up at him with a stray tear in the corner of her eye and said, "I don't mean physically."

His breath caught in his throat and he nodded in understanding. After all, in only two days, she had rejected an offer of marriage and had been more or less rejected by the man she really wanted – James himself.

"I don't know what to do," she said as the stray tear dropped down her cheek into her lap. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. She didn't fight him, nor did she return the gesture.

"Thank you for the ring," she mumbled. He smiled and kissed the top of her head, unwilling to let her go just yet.

His heart jumped when he suddenly realized the tap-tapping against his chest was not his heartbeat, but her fingers dancing in a line down his shirt – undoing each of the buttons on his shirt as she went along.

"Rose..." he mumbled with some uncertainty as her fingers reached the very bottom button of his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, as her fingers fumbled over the top button on his pants.

"It's okay," he said, running his hand over her back.

"I won't push you anymore," she said.

He opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly realized that he had nothing to say except things she wouldn't want to hear. He closed his mouth and allowed her to proceed to the zipper which she pulled down so slowly he nearly swatted her hand away and did it himself.

"I've been thinking about you constantly," she said in a low voice, all of her focus narrowed in on the prize he held for her below his waist. "I just..." her hand stilled, "I need to hear you say it."

He swallowed a lump in his throat and croaked, "Say what?"

"That you love me."

He looked down to her watery eyes and the ring on her finger. He bit his lip and slowly shook his head. He didn't even know why. He didn't know why he couldn't say it, he knew that he felt it and he knew that the gift he'd given her was the greatest material indication that he could give her. He opened his mouth to say the words, but as quickly as he did that, he pursed his lips together once again. More tears welled up in her eyes and she tore her hand away from the opening of his pants.

"Take your ring," she said, twisting the jewelry off her finger. She stood up defiantly and slipped her shoes back on.

"Rose..." he said softly, but insistently.

"You think I'm a fool," she said, tossing the ring into the middle of the bed. She lowered her voice and hissed, "I can't believe I let you take my...my..." she couldn't finish the sentence. Tears dripped from her eyelashes and she quickly ran from the bedroom back out to the dwindling party in the garden.