The Girl Who Couldn'T See Rainbows. Rosette

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СКАЧАТЬ a man with a painful past and a happy ending as a result of many ordeals. Romantic. Passionate. Realistic.” Now his lips were smiling as well as his eyes. “Melisande Bruno, are you aware that you might fall in love with me as Jane Eyre did with Mr Rochester, who coincidentally, was her employer?”

      “You aren’t Mr Rochester,” I said quietly.

      “I'm as lunatic as he was,” he objected with a half-smile that I couldn’t help but return.

      “I agree. But I'm not Jane Eyre.”

      “That's also true. She was wan, ugly and insignificant,” he said, slurring the words. “No person sound of mind, and of eyes, could say this about you. Your red hair would be noticeable miles away.”

      “That doesn’t really sound like a compliment...” I said, whining jokingly.

      “Whoever stands out, in one way or another, is never ugly, Melisande,” he said gently.

      “Then thank you.”

      He sneered. “Who did you get that hair from, Miss Bruno? From your Italian parents?”

      The allusion to my family helped to blur the happiness of the moment. I looked away, and continued sorting the books on the shelves.

      “I’ve been told that my grandmother was a redhead. My parents weren’t, nor is my sister.”

      He brought the wheelchair nearer to my legs, which were stretched in the effort of fixing the books. At that short distance I could recognize his soft scent. It was a mysterious and seductive mixture of flowers and spices.

      “And what’s a pretty red-haired secretary with Italian ancestors doing in a remote Scottish village?”

      “My father emigrated to support his wife and daughter. I was born in Belgium.” I was looking for a way to change the subject, but it was hard to do. His closeness confused my thoughts, knotting them in a bundle that was hard to untangle.

      “From Belgium to London, and then to Scotland. At only twenty-two years of age. You’ll admit that it’s at least unusual.”

      “I want to see the world,” I replied evasively.

      I gazed at him. His frown had disappeared like snow in the sun, replaced by a healthy curiosity. There was no way to distract him. Outside, the storm raged, with its violent intensity. A similar storm was unrolling within me. Communicating with him was natural, spontaneous and liberating, but I shouldn’t, couldn’t speak freely, or else I would regret it.

      “Your need to see the world brought you to this remote corner of the world?” His tone was openly sceptical. “There’s no need to lie to me, Melisande Bruno. I won’t judge you, in spite of the appearances.”

      Something broke inside me, releasing memories that I believed buried forever. I had trusted someone just once, and it didn’t end well, my life had almost been destroyed because of it. Only fate had prevented a tragedy. My tragedy.

      “I'm not lying. Even here you can see the world,” I said smiling. “I've never been to the Highlands, they’re interesting. And I’m young, I can still travel, to visit and explore new places.”

      “So you plan to leave.” His voice was hoarse now.

      I turned to him. A shadow had fallen over his face. There was something desperate, furious, and predatory about him at that moment.

      Short of words, I just kept staring at him.

      He quickly twirled the wheelchair towards the desk. “Don’t worry. If you continue being so lazy, I'll send you away myself, so you can resume your journey around the world.”

      His harsh words made me feel as though he had tossed a bucket of frozen water over me. He stopped in front of the window, anchored to the wheelchair with both hands, his shoulders stiff.

      “You were right. The storm is already over. There is no way to avoid Mc Intosh today. It seems that I can’t do anything right.”

      “Oh, look, a rainbow.” He called me without turning around. “Come and see, Miss Bruno. A charming sight, don’t you think? I doubt you’ve already seen one before.”

      “Indeed, I have,” I countered, without moving. The rainbow was a cruel symbol of what I was eternally denied: the perception of colours, their prodigies, and their archaic mystery.

      My voice was as delicate as a sheet of ice, my shoulders stiffer than his.

      He had again raised a wall between us, tall and insurmountable. A shatterproof defence.

      Or maybe I was the one who had built it first.

      Chapter six

      “Would you like to have dinner with me, Melisande Bruno?”

      I stared at him with wide eyes; I must have misunderstood him. He had ignored me for hours, and the rare times he spoke to me he had been unpleasant and cold.

      At first I thought of refusing, outraged by his childlike and moody attitude, then curiosity got the best of me. Or maybe I was hoping to see his smile again; that lopsided, friendly and warm smile. However, whatever the reason, my answer was yes.

      Mrs Mc Millian was so shocked by the novelty to be silent for as long as it took her to serve our dinner, stirring up our mutual amusement.

      Mr Mc Laine was relaxed, and he no longer had that severe expression than I had learned to fear.

      We sat quietly and began speaking only when the housekeeper left us alone.

      “We managed to leave our dear Millicent speechless... I guess we'll end up in the Guinness world records,” he remarked with a laugh that struck my heart.

      “Undoubtedly,” I agreed. “And that’s a monumental task. I never thought I’d see that day.”

      “I agree”. He winked at me and grasped a meat skewer.

      The improvised dinner was informal but delicious, and his company was the only one I wished for. I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything to ruin that idyllic atmosphere, and then I remembered that it only partially depended on me. My companion had already shown on several occasions that he was irritable, and without any apparent reason.

      Now he was smiling, and I felt a stabbing pain at the thought that I would never know the exact colour of his eyes and hair.

      “So, Melisande Bruno, do you like Midnight Rose?”

      I like you, especially when you're so laid-back and in peace with the world.

      I said aloud, “Who wouldn’t like it? It's a slice of paradise, far from the usual frenzy, stress and madness.”

      He stopped eating, as if he fed off the sound of my voice. And I also began to chew more slowly, so as to not break that spell, as fragile as crystal and more fluttery than an autumn leaf.

      “For those who come from London it must seem so” he granted. “Have you travelled a lot?”

      I СКАЧАТЬ