One might blame Ella’s deep sleep on the nighttime cold medicine Remus gave her, but wiser minds would argue that she slept so soundly because of the arms that banded around her in the night. The gentle glow of the moon lulled them both to indulge in ten hours of unfettered rest. They woke only when the sun decided it had been ignored long enough.
Ella shot up in the bed, turned around after indulging in so much sleep. “Oh! It’s almost eight o’clock!”
Henry shifted, his full lips pulling into a pout, now that his arms weren’t wrapped around her. “Go back to sleep, hun.”
She gasped, scandalized. “Are you serious? I haven’t done a thing to help.” She cast around for her bundle. “Where are my clothes?”
Henry mumbled something that sounded like “Inna fresser,” which Ella translated to mean “In the dresser.”
She darted to the drawers, pulling them open until she came to one that had been cleared just for her. Her panic at not being useful was put on hold when the significance of Henry putting her things in with his hit her with the obvious smack of permanence. Her shoulders lowered, and she pulled out one of his shirts, pressing the expensive fabric to her nose. The fragrance of Henry was wildly addictive. She wondered if her garments would begin to smell like his if she kept her things in the drawer long enough. Henry smelled of cinnamon-laced cologne that had faint notes of peach to it, but was still somehow masculine and alluring.
“Come back to bed. It’s still early. I don’t have anything until nine.”
Ella turned her chin over her shoulder, soaking in the cuteness that was Henry before he awoke. No doubt Drizella would drool over pictures of him with no shirt on, tousled hair, and sprawled out on the rumpled sheets, full lips extra puffy from rest.
“Go back to sleep,” she whispered, and Henry was just drowsy enough to comply without too much more of a fight.
She sniggered at his cuteness, and then changed into her jeans and flannel, blowing her nose and rubbing out an ache in her chest. If this was to be her new home, as Remus suggested, she wouldn’t make him regret his kindness.
She found her morning cold medicine, and prayed it would hold as she filled a bucket with cleaning solution and water. Her stomach was roaring, but she knew that at least a few chores should be done before anything else. Dusting, polishing the long oak table, and then thoroughly sweeping the dining room took only twenty minutes, but washing the floor took longer, drawing out her cough as the harsh chemicals coupled with the polishing done on her hands and knees. She felt far more tired than she usually did this early in the day.
“What are you doing?” came Remus’ agitated voice from behind her.
Ella leaned back to sit on her heels, mopping the sweat from her brow. “I don’t know what your regular routine for chores is, but I figured you can’t go wrong starting in the dining room. That seems to get a fair amount of use.”
Remus swore, and then bent to draw her up, a horrified grimace pulling at his usually composed features. He sat her down on a chair and pried the rag from her fingers. “I didn’t bring you here to clean my house. You’re my guest, not my housekeeper. I already have one of those, and I can’t imagine she’d be willing to forfeit the job she’s had for ten years.”
Ella’s lips pursed as she mulled over several responses, wishing she could just finish the job already. “I’m not lazy,” she countered, her knees half a foot from his when he turned a chair so he could sit and face her stubborn expression.
“I’m not sure where you’d assume I might draw that conclusion. This has nothing to do with being lazy. It has to do with you punishing yourself for who knows what, or trying to earn a space here that’s been freely given.”
Ella studied him with caution. “I’m not sure what my role here is. I mean, if I don’t work for you, then what are you getting out of the deal? How is that fair to you? I don’t want to be a taker.”
Remus took in her red nose and the pink around her eyelids, leaning his elbow on the table with a compassionate sigh. “Darling, in what world do you imagine yourself a taker? Sometimes it’s my turn to accept help, while others it’s my turn to give it. What do I get out of having you here? Friendship, for one. Also, there’s the matter of my rabid fascination with the unknown. Our tutoring sessions are every bit the education for me as they are for you. I live for that. I would pay for that. The fact that you’ll be here every day only expedites any progress we’re trying to make.”
Ella pulled a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose for the eleventh time that morning. Then she rubbed her temples to alleviate the tension that only seemed to build the longer she was awake. “All that sounds fine, but I’m not ungrateful. Please let me help out.”
“‘Help out’ means picking up after yourself, not everyone in the house. Back to bed with you, darling. The doctor said you’re a breath away from pneumonia, and housework won’t help with that. Today is for rest. Tomorrow we can think about starting up our lessons again.”
She couldn’t stifle the lost look in her eyes. “What am I going to tell Lady Tremaine? This is going to go south real fast.”
“You’re not going to tell her anything when you’re this ill. A stiff breeze could knock you over at this point, and that woman is a hurricane. You’re not in any shape for the battle it’s going to be when you openly defy her.” At Ella’s sharp intake of breath and the panic welling in her eyes, Remus held up his hands. “Which isn’t something we’re going to worry about today. For all she knows, you’re merely staying here to clean my house for your usual four days. There’s no need to add stress to our lives prematurely. Rest today, plan tomorrow.”
Ella’s one-track mind wasn’t easily derailed, but after a few more back-and-forths, she consented to going back to bed if she could finish the floor. “It’ll be uneven if I don’t finish. Then it’s like I didn’t do anything helpful!”
Remus sighed, but handed over the rag with a resigned look that she was who she was, and it wouldn’t be an easy road deprogramming her.
When Ella went back upstairs, she showered and then slipped back into her pajamas, feeling scandalous that her grand plan was to sleep the day away. She shivered in her clean flannel and shorts, but her limbs calmed when, in sleep, Henry reached for her, warming her body with his. She melted in his arms, allowing the guilt to slide out of her mind so she could rest contentedly with the man who seemed to crave her presence every bit as much as she desired his.