“Your Grace!” I yelled with alarm.

His face was pale and twisted in pure agony. His knees gave way I and realized he was about to collapse. I acted out of my instinct and wrapped my hands around his waist. However, his larger frame was much heavier compared to my smaller one. He was half-unconscious when we both tumbled to the ground. The collision made me wince at the stabbing pain in my arms, but I managed to protect his head by pressing it against my chest.

“Your Grace!” I shook his senseless shoulders. “Baxter! What is wrong?” I was certain the man was having a heart attack. “I need to run inside and alert the others to call for a doctor! I promise I will be right back,” I somehow managed to push his body away from mine, but at the last moment he caught my hand.

“Your Grace, I need to call for a doctor! Please unhand me!” I franticly tried to pry his fingers away from my wrist, but his grip was like a stone.

He feebly shook his head, his breathing still horrifically irregular. My heart broke when I heard his wheezes. I brushed his hair off his clammy forehead. “But you’re having a heart attack!” I cried out desperately.

He, once again shook his head. “N-no,” he managed to say through the spasms. “P-please d-don’t l-leave.”

I relaxed with his head on my lap, threading my hands through his soft hair to calm him down. He seemed to enjoy it as his breathing started to even out. However, his body still shook horribly and I didn’t know what to do to make him feel better.

So, I did the one thing that came to my min - I sang.

I sang an old love song my governess used to sing to me when I was a little child and terribly afraid of the darkness.

My love's like a red, red rose

That's newly sprung in June;

My love is like a melody

So sweetly played in tune

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass

So deep in love am I;

And I will love thee still, my dear

Though all the seas gone dry

Though all the seas gone dry, my dear

And the rocks melt with the sun;

I will love thee still my dear

Though the sands o' life shall run

And fare thee weel, my only luve!

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

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Though it were ten thousand mile. (A Red Red Rose – a 1794 song by Rober Burns)

I knew I wasn’t as talented as Jane or Edith, but it will have to do. I lowered my head to look at him. His formerly pale skin was now almost back to normal and his labored breathing vanished completely. I let out a harsh breath of relief at the thought he will be all right.

He slowly opened his kind, soft eyes, looking directly into mine. I didn’t care for our close proximity as I was far more concerned for his well-being.

“Your Grace?” I said, gently nudging him as he seemed somewhat lost in thought. “What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

He looked awfully uncomfortable and embarrassed.

“You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to.”

“I s-sometimes f-feel these s-spells of o-overwhelming f-fear,” he stumbled over his words. “The c-crowds, their a-appraising looks, they o-often overpower m-me,” he lowered his amber eyes. “You m-must t-thing I a-am a weak f-fool.”

“No. You are brave enough to admit your fears and face them head on. Most of us are just cowards, hiding behind lies and other people’s expectations,” I answered him truthfully.

“Y-you can n-neve be a c-coward,” he shook his head which still rested on my lap.

I‘ve never touched a man like this before – ran my fingers through his tousled hair or caressed my thumb over his cheeks. And I was doing it now, with no other than Baxter Read - the single man I wowed to run from, and yet the touch felt oddly comforting.

“You’re wrong,” I stated.

The memories of what I had witnessed came flooding back. I could not stop the rush of words that came out of my mouth. “I saw Lord Jared with Lady Wyatt in the drawing room, they were…” My cheeks reddened at the thought of what they were doing. “He was supposed to love Lady Bonnie. He was supposed to marry her! Why did he do that?” I looked back at Baxter as though he held the key to my answer. “He… He said he loved me too,” I didn’t know why was I telling him this, he needn’t hear this, but somehow I could not stop. “And I loved him ever since we were little children.”

Baxter’s face was now pained, but he still listened intently.

“But love isn’t supposed to feel so wrong… Does it? It’s supposed to feel like something beautiful,” I froze in horror when I felt a single tear slip down my cheek.

He slowly raised his head and sat beside me. “I w-want to m-make you f-feel better. I h-hate to s-see you sad,” he lifted up his hand as if to brush away my tear, but changed his mind at the last second.

“You already did,” I smiled at him. “I am sorry I bothered you with my troubles when you’re hurting. It’s quite selfish,” I bit my lip, trying to drown the feelings of guilt which seemed to plague me every time I was near him.

“You c-cannot ever b-bother me, L-Lady Ashlyn. You h-helped me and I-I want t-to return t-the favor.”

“But you already helped me numerous times!” I laughed with amazement while stifling soft sobs which still rocked my body.

“T-That doesn’t c-count,” he smiled and I noticed how the corners of his eyes crinkled. But the gentle wrinkles were gone just as fast as they appeared, concealed by his once again serious expression. “L-Lady Ashlyn, c-can I a-ask you s-something?”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“May I call on you tomorrow after breakfast time?” He looked terribly nervous while asking for my permission.

“Your Grace, I…” I shook my head with misery. “I hate to disappoint you, but…”

“I o-only wanted t-to show y-you my r-rose garden, n-nothing m-more. I a-am not a-asking you t-to marry m-me, Lady A-Ashlyn,” his gaze slipped toward the ground. “I am very w-well a-aware that s-someone like you w-will never be f-fond of s-someone like m-me.”