Chapter 5

Matthew lost track of how long he'd been running through the woods carrying the girl on his back. His lungs felt as if they were going to explode but he refused to stop. He forced himself to run faster, and faster, until finally his legs gave out and he crumpled down onto the wet ground.

With one side of his face pressed against the forest floor, he struggled to regain his breath. Arabella's head lolled beside his, her gentle breath fanned his cheek.

"Hold on," He whispered, as though she could hear him.

"Hold on just a little longer."

Trembling with exhaustion, he lifted his head and spotted a cave in a hillside not so far away. He struggled to get back on his feet, but the delicate weight that burdened him seemed many times multiplied now. His legs buckled under him several times as he scrambled his way to the cave.

Once inside, he lay her down and checked her condition only to find that a fever had set in. Sweat coated her face and neck, and she writhed uncomfortably in her cumbersome dress. Quickly he removed her clothes, leaving only a flimsy chemise that barely covered anything beneath it. His breath caught when her creamy smooth skin exposed to him. Her nipples showed through the sheer fabric. For a moment, his gaze lingered where it shouldn't, until suddenly her eyelids fluttered open and she stared at him with a frown. Startled, he quickly pulled away, expecting her to lash out at him, but she offered no objection. Instead, she looked at him from lust-fogged eyes.

"Jeremy..."  She called, and he felt an instant stab of jealousy. He cursed himself

for his absolute stupidity. There was no way such beauty like her hadn't been taken. Back home, she must have been surrounded by a regiment of suitors. Wealthy and titled men. A suitable match for a lady like her, not some dirty ragged scoundrel. Being trapped alone with her, he must always be reminded of his place in the world and never even dream to touch her shadow.

But all good intentions flew out the window when she gazed into his eyes, her hand reaching out to him. A temptation too great to resist. He let her pull him down onto her mouth. She was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. He took what she offered, giving into his baser instinct, his own body's cravings. Like water gushing out of a breaking dam, the repressed desire surfaced out of the recesses of his unconscious. His hand found her breast and fondled it through the thin layer of her chemise as his mouth swallowed her breathy moan.

For one insane moment, everything else faded to just heat and sensation, until a sudden awareness snapped through him. He tore his mouth off her, pulling away as a rush of guilt swamped him. What kind of man is he to take advantage of a delirious woman? His mother would be turning in her grave.

In a flash, he was back in the woods with her on his back. He raced through the trees, not stopping for a minute to draw breath, until he finally reached the edge of the forest. A glimmer of hope emerged within him when he caught a small cottage in the distance. He dashed up to the house and pounded at the door.

"Help! Anybody!!!" He called out loud.

"Please open the door!!!"

The door swung inward to reveal the wrinkled face of a Gypsy woman.

"Please help my friend, Madam! She ate poisonous berries!"

Not wasting another minute, the woman invited them in and ordered Matthew to lay the girl down on her bed.

"It seems she ate more than two." Madam Nora, the Gypsy woman commented as she checked the girl's pulse. She left for the kitchen and returned with a bowl of milk. Asking Matthew to help the half-conscious girl sit straight, the Gypsy woman fed her with the milk.

"Is she going to be alright?" Matthew asked hopefully. Madam Nora shook her head, her expression grave.

"This only helps to delay the effects. She needs a cure. I have all the ingredients to make the remedy, but one thing."

"What is it, Madam?" He prompted.

"The Snow Maiden flowers. They grow on the top of the hill, but it's very dangerous to try to get there. The path is steep and it will be slippery after the rain."

No one in their right minds would risk their life for a stranger, but despite logic, Matthew set off for the hill. The climb was definitely not a walk in the park. To reach the hilltop, he had to pass through trees, muddy bogs, and bodies of water. Halfway through the journey, his shoes had got wet and his feet had gone numb with cold. But the last few steps to the top were the hardest.

He looked up at the steep rock wall in front of him. It was about 50 feet high. One could hardly survive if they happened to fall from such height. A hideous image of himself lying on the ground with a broken skull flashed through his mind and he nearly lost heart, but he braced himself and started to climb.

Halfway to the top, he had stopped to rest twice, leaning on the rock as he stretched his strained arms. He kept himself from looking down, afraid he might lose his strength at once. He had almost reached the top when a foothold he was standing on suddenly broke off. He nearly fell but luckily he managed to grab a branch nearby. He hung on to the branch, scrabbling with his feet, until finally he managed to find another foothold.

He sighed in relief, his whole body trembled as he tried to recover his breath. When he finally made it to the top, he searched around and spied the flowers among a mass of shrubs.

He reached through the shrubs and pulled his hand instantly when a series of burning pricks stung him. He observed his hand and found many puncture wounds on his palm and lower arm. Unfortunately the shrubs that surrounded the flowers were full of thorns. It took a while before he got an idea. He took off his shirt and wrapped the fabric around the full length of his lower arm before thrusting his hand out to get the flowers. The simple trick worked, and within an hour, he was already on his way back with a bunch of the miracle flowers. He was tired, bruised and battered, but otherwise all in one piece.

Once he arrived, Madam Nora wasted no time in concocting the potion while Matthew waited expectantly beside the bed. He gazed down at the sleeping girl, quietly admiring her lovely features. He could sit and stare at her for hours on end and never got tired of it. He slightly startled when she stirred and moaned softly, her eyelids flickered briefly and her eyes fluttered open. Turning her head on the pillow, she searched his face and met his gaze. His heart really did stop for a second. Recalling their brief intimacy, he expected an instant blush, or another hint of embarrassment, or perhaps anger, but there wasn't the slightest indication that she remembered their torrid moment in the cave.

"Is she awake?"

Madam Nora's voice disrupted his thoughts.

"Good, this potion has cooled off a bit."

Matthew helped Arabella sit up on the pillows when the madam brought the cup to her pale lips. Once the potion hit her tongue, she coughed up and spat it out. The green substance spurted over the quilt blanket.

"What is this? It tastes horrible!" She complained, her face twisted in a grimace of disgust. Madam Nora cast a displeased glance at the stained blanket and said sternly,

"Better finish that or you won't live to see another day."

Matthew could only watch open-mouthed as the girl lifted her chin stubbornly and regarded the Madam down the full length of her aristocratic nose.

"I'm not going to let you feed me with any strange, unproven medication."

Then she turned toward Matthew.

"Boy, don't just stand and watch. Go get me a real doctor!"

"I don't know any doctor here, and I'm afraid we're running out of time!"

He shifted his gaze from the girl to the Madam, looking more than a bit panicked.

"I'm sorry, Madam. Let me,"

He took the cup from the Madam and handed it to the girl.

"Just take a sip."

Carefully he lifted the cup to her mouth, but unexpectedly she knocked the cup from his hand. The cup smashed to pieces against the hard wood, and Matthew gasped as he saw

its precious content, that almost cost him his very life, spilling all over the floor.

To be continued