Her lips slightly parted as she pulled the last set of drawers. She was sure Estelle kept it somewhere.
“And what happens when patience alone isn't enough?” Weston asked.
Juliet rose from the floor and moved to her dressing table.
“We have not gotten to that stage yet. I will know.”
Her eyes scanned the contents on the table and soon, caught the vial. She grabbed it and threw it across the floor to the bed.
“Let me get some water.” She said and headed into her bath.
“You are doing fantastic so far, by the way.” She heard Weston say behind her. A smile crept onto her face as she filled a bowl with water.
“We need to wash the wound first.” She said once she got back to Weston. She knelt on the floor before him and reached for his hand.
Like someone would handle a delicate flower, Juliet grabbed Weston's hand and placed it into the bowl. His knuckles stung as the water ran through it, but he almost didn't feel the pain. Juliet holding his hand had somehow made him not to. His eyes were fixed on her as she worked, carefully cleaning the blood off his hand. He watched as she grabbed the vial and opened it. She pulled his hand out of the water and cleaned it with a dry piece of cloth.
“This may hurt a little.” Juliet warned. Before Weston could protest, she sprinkled some of the ointment around the wounded area. Weston grunted in pain and tried to retrieve his hand from Juliet's stubborn grip.
“Oh please.” She laughed, watching her husband react to the pain. “I am sure Anne would've taken that with no reaction at all.”
“You had to apply that to your hand for almost a week?” Weston asked, surprised at how brave his wife had been, only adding more detail to his conviction.
“Yes. But then, I am not a baby like you, so it did not hurt.” Juliet replied, planting a kind smile on her face. Weston watched her, carefully and firmly, attach the dry piece of clothing to his wound and wrap it right around his hand.
“Since it is only a small cut, it should disappear before daybreak.”
Weston narrowed his eyes. “So I cannot ride today?”
“Unless you think you can push through the pain, no.” Juliet replied. “Looks like it is just me and you today.”
Weston’s heart jumped at the idea. Nothing else mattered as long as he got to spend time with Juliet. Not even his hand.
“Would you like to escort me to the garden? I need to check on the plants and see how they're coming along.”
As Juliet slowly rose from the floor, he couldn't help but wonder how he had been so blind the past few days. He had been so focused on finding happiness in freedom that he didn't think it was possible to find one in captivity. Juliet was the newest good thing in his life, and he wasn't ready to let her go. The more he watched her move around the room, the harder he fell for her, a feat he didn't even think was possible. He couldn't see himself living the rest of his life without her, and it started to grow paramount that he needed to tell her about his feelings. How he was going to do so was still a thing to be considered.
“Weston?” Juliet said, staring at her husband and breaking into his thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
“Yes.” Weston replied, slightly rubbing the cloth around his hand. “Yes, I shall follow you.”
Juliet wore a broad smile on her face. “Fascinating. I just need to change into a lighter dress.”
She headed to her wardrobe and grabbed a deep blue silky gown, one he had seen her wear over and over. She headed behind the wardrobe and started to dress up.
Weston smiled. Juliet was a gift from fate, and he would cherish her for as long as he could. He was doing himself no good by shielding his feelings away from her. A slight laugh escaped him as he thought of Charles and what he would do with this situation. Charles would probably laugh hard at him first before anything because Weston had vehemently denied being in love with Juliet when he asked. Now that he was sure of his feelings, he needed the advice of his best friend regarding telling her. Where was the best place? What was the best time? How would he even voice it out to her?
“Are you ready?” Juliet asked, walking back out, now in her garden wear. Weston nodded and rose slowly from the chair.
Along with the slight head rush, the idea also hit him hard. Of course.
The garden.
It was the most special place to her. To both of them. What better place would make this even more monumental? They both headed into the garden.
“Since the roses still aren't here yet because for some reason, Mr. Brown seems to be taking his time, all I have to do today is inspect the lilies and check for weeds.”
“Alright.” Weston replied. He walked over to his usual bench and lowered himself into it, pondering on the best way to begin his speech.
