HER
When he abruptly pulled me away from Sam, I never could've pictured ending up here.
In a boat.
With Aleksi.
I shift uncomfortably, but stop when I feel the boat rock under me. My eyes search desperately for purchase, because I just can't look at Aleksi.
He's rowing. And if the tug-of-war was distracting, this is downright criminal. Especially because he's so close. To fit both of us in the small rowboat, we have to sit across from one another. So close his knees bracket mine.
Even though clouds have rolled in and blocked out the sun, I'm still sweating. He hasn't said a word since he brought me here.
Boats are scattered around the lake, and—to my infinite embarrassment—all the other pairs seem to be couples. I resist the urge to cover my flaming face. Aleksi doesn't even seem to notice. He's a man on a mission. I only wish I knew what it was.
My questions are answered when he suddenly stops rowing, tucking the oars into the boat.
He sighs, pinning me in place with a look. I swallow.
We're in the middle of the lake, and unless he's planning to push me in, I can't think why.
"I think we have a problem."
My stomach twists, and pressure builds behind my eyes.
Is he going to scold me for being upset about those other women?
Him trying to let me down gently pops into my head, and I start seriously considering making a break for it, even if it means swimming.
"It's all a big misunderstanding!" I force the squeaky words out, eyes shut tight, hands out to stop him.
"Exactly."
My eyes snap open, frozen in my strange, hunched position.
What?
He takes a deep breath.
"We keep having these misunderstandings. I think it's time we were just honest with each other."
I'm going to faint. Or throw up. Maybe both.
"I'll go first."
Please don't.
"I yelled at Mr. Stephens for you."
His words dump ice water on me.
"I… What?"
"After you got called into his office last year, for washing the maid's uniforms with baking powder."
A dim memory surfaces of Aleksi going into the office after me. Shouting carrying down the hallway.
"But… Why?"
We hadn't talked for weeks when he did that.
"I thought they were sacking you," he scratches his neck awkwardly. "I actually told them I did it, not you." He laughs at himself, unable to look me in the eye. "Course, they weren't going to fire you, so I only made a fool of myself. Stephens still punished me for it, if you can believe it. Swear he respected me more for it, though."
His wry laughter is contagious, and I feel some of my nervousness melting as I see how nervous he is.
"Well, thank you anyway." I mean it. If I had known at the time that he had stood up for me, even though nothing came from it, I would've been touched.
He straightens up, shaking off the memory.
"Okay, your turn."
Oh Lord.
I swallow thickly. Thoughts vacating my head. Silence stretches as I hesitate.
"How about this—why were you angry with me for stopping the valet that night? Did I… did I scare you?"
I try to focus on his words and not the icy chill of the memory. Honesty. I can be honest.
"It wasn't about that night. It was after." Anger crawls its way up my chest at the memory. "You got him fired."
His eyebrows lift, then furrow.
"He deserved to be fired."
"Of course he did!" I burst out. "But how could you tell Lord and Lady Welch what happened without asking me?"
Echoes of the panic I felt that first morning whisper through me and I shudder.
"I didn't." We look at each other, both shocked. "I didn't want to involve you, I just told them I caught him in the maids' corridor, jiggling the handles."
The reality of the situation washes over me, and it's so absurd I start to laugh.
"How are you laughing? You threw a hat at me for that!" His indignant remark only makes me laugh harder, completely breathless.
A weight I carried with me since it happened is lifted with a few simple words. I run an embarrassed hand down my face, and Aleksi finally lets out a rueful laugh.
"See? This is why we need honesty."
Maybe this isn't so bad.
HIM
We laugh together but quickly grow quiet, each waiting for the other to speak.
"How did you get Harriet that job?" I venture, finally voicing the question that has eaten at me since it happened. She immediately draws back and I backtrack quickly.
"If you don't want to tell me you don't have to…"
She glares at the sky, sighing heavily. When she looks back at me, she looks older.
"I get a monthly allowance from… former employers. I already have a fine salary, so I use it for other things, feeding the poor, things like that. I bought the job for her."
Her voice rings with finality, as if she is willing to share this but no more. I nod, unconcerned. I'm not well-versed with Anglorian customs, it's probably just one of them.
Something else she said summons a memory, though.
"Ahhh, speaking of that," I start, guiltily. "I followed you to the village once, when I was trying to apologize. I already knew you feed the poor."
She raises her eyebrows, but then her eyes narrow.
"I knew I was being watched!" She exclaims, faking indignance.
I laugh, blushing.
"I have nightmares." I freeze. "That's why I don't sleep. That's why I had time to fix your livery."
She stares at her hands, waiting.
I feel as though I've been handed something incredibly fragile—her trust—and what I do next will make it or break it.
"So do I."
Her head snaps up and she looks at me uncertainly.
"Some nights are worse than others, and I don't think they're as bad as yours. But I still get them." I recall my worst ones. "Sometimes I dream about accidents we had on the farm. Wolves. Things like that."
She just nods, the tightness gone from her shoulders.
Words start bubbling up in my throat and I try to swallow them down.
Honest. It's just honesty.
I take a shaky breath and say words I haven't even admitted to myself.
"I was jealous today."