Page 63 of Euphoria
I glanced uneasily at the door, then allowed the heavy tapestry to fall back into place. Coldness settled on my chest, and I glanced uneasily at the secret door.
“Shh,” I soothed, moving back toward the bed. “It’s okay. I won’t leave.”
“You care for Rochester, don’t you?” Mason asked as I sat beside him.
I hesitated, not knowing what I should say. He’d been forbidden to speak to me, and if Edward found out…
“I saw it in your eyes when you came in,” he went on. “I know I threaten myself with more harm by speaking to you, but you strike me as a sweet soul. You are a good person. I see that.”
“Hush,” I said, reaching for the face washer. Dipping it into the basin of clear water, I wrung it out, folded it carefully, and placed it on his forehead.
“Be careful,” he said desperately. “He is not who he seems. He has secrets, Miss. Dark secrets…”
His words chilled my very soul, but I didn’t allow it to show on my face. He was hurt, in pain, and feverish. It would do neither of us any good if I attempted to question him further even though I wished to tear the secrets from his mind and put this awful feeling of neglect to rest.
“Miss, please,” he pleaded. “You must listen to me.”
“I am listening,” I assured him. “You must rest, Mason. Mr. Rochester will return with the doctor soon, and all will be well.”
He sighed as if he struggled with a heavy weight, and then closed his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his forehead hot, so I doused the face washer once more to cool it. Checking the gash on his shoulder, I saw it had bled more, the small clot that had formed loosened with his desperate pleading.
Casting out my hearing, I hoped Edward wasn’t too far away.
