Chapter 8: Hazel

His eyes glistened, looking at the sun setting in the sky. The colourful scenery which pinched at his black irises painted a graffiti of rainbow flame upon the evening sky. Like fresh water colours splurged onto an artist's canvas, hues of blue, green; red and gold latched onto his eyes. The view from that side of the diner hall was just the perfect angle.

Rochester stopped looking at the skies through the opened window. Steering his eyes back inside, he focused his glare on the activity of the house. The inside of the inn was buzzing with the cacophony of the numerous chitter-chatter and side table talks. Rochester folded his arms and reclined on his seat.

Lips pursed, his eyes darted about to every idle corner of the room. Everything and everyone he saw disgusted him but he just wouldn't stop looking, regardless…

At first glance, he spotted a fine gentleman dining alone by the corner. The fact that he donned a coat (-of moderate quality) did not hinder him from eating like a glut! He stuffed his mouth with so much food that he began to choke on it.

'What a waste!'

Rochester shook his head and rolled his eyes.

He then looked away from that man only to lock glances with a woman who'd just ceased from her food to wipe off a slimy green mucous liquid from crawling down her nostrils. With the same hand she used to commit this deed, she picked up a single strand of pasta and began to fondle it with her tongue.

Yikes!

What in God's name was wrong with these people?

Rochester creased his brows at the lot about him. He could not help feeling like a fish that got put out of water. Because he just did not belong here; in this world. He was way more sophisticated than this.

''Disgusting pigs! All of them!'' Rochester cursed out loud, and then clicked his tongue to the inside corner of his mouth.

Simon decided to step in.

''Sir… ''

''Speak up, Simon.''

''Okay, boss. Ever since we got here, I've noticed that you get angry easily. Everyone seems to be your offenders like you just can't stand anyone in this place.''

''Don't be stupid, Simon. Isn't it obvious that I hate being here?''

Simon wrinkled his brows. Lips pressed and eyes squinted, he attempted to ponder on the reason why.

''Look around you. All these people,'' Rochester gestured about with his hand. ''They look so ugly, dirty and very poor. If not for Hazel who has agreed to meet me here together with Giselle, what would I be doing in this sham of a place?''

''But, Sir.'' Simon interjected ''You've lingered here, two days already; sleeping on that poorly washed 'semen-stained' bedsheet.''

''Exactly my point!'' Rochester slammed the dining table forcefully. This earned him a cold stare but he did not care.

The silence reigned between them for a bit. After a wholesome minute of waiting for his boss to speak up, Simon decided to make a go at it.

''Actually,'' He began. ''I'd like to say this: I think that Hazel's beauty is as the goddess; supersedes any other maiden. Why not choose her instead? Why must it be this Giselle.''

''Because there's only one woman who's named after my heart. Giselle is her name. All other women are just flings.''

A sudden outburst of laughter!

The air of the diner soon came alive again. Men and women sat across tables, eating peacefully with lovers or friends; gossiping about endless tales, old English riddles & C. & C.

Right now, Rochester was running out of patience. He wanted to behold Giselle already, take her to his room upstairs and amend the crack in their relationship with a passion fuelled approach. He had Hazel to thank for fixing up this chance to have him meet with Giselle.

Barely two days ago, he'd stumbled upon her; his saviour, Hazel! As he allowed himself to recollect how their first meeting had gone, he picked up on her lines about having a condition that will allow her to show Giselle to him. This made him gleam with a smile.

'' … I have one condition that will permit me to do that; to show her to you.'' Louisa's words flew into his ears as eloquently as they'd come.

Rochester pressed his lips together, worried about her proposed 'condition'. What could it be?

''My ears are all yours, Hazel. Tell me this condition you speak off.''

''Well… '' She stalled for a bit to prolong her talk. ''In truth, with all that Giselle told me about you, I reckon it'll be hard to get her to be on your side.''

''Are you not her cousin? Talk some sense into her. No woman in her right senses would dare turn me down!''

''Yes, it's right. It's right. I will do just that, I'll make her see reasons with you and why it should be you she chooses. She always listens to me. Rest assured that she will.''

Her words sounded quite assuring, as such Rochester allowed his face to glow up a beam.

But Louisa was not done talking.

''I talked about a condition. Would you not like to know what it is?''

Rochester perked his ears to listen.

''The condition is you MUST promise never to look for Giselle on your own.''

''What!''

''Yes, Sir. I'll not want her to feel too overwhelmed by your urge to find her.''

Rochester frowned his face for a bit and then settled his nerves to speak.

''Okay, fine. Let's say, I decide not to trouble her like you insist, when will I get to see my precious Giselle?''

''In 2 days.''

''Why 2 days?'' He lifted a half brow at her.

''There's a reason for it. You'll come to know more when you see her and get to talk to her about it; Giselle, I mean.''

''Okay.'' He shrugged.

''Okay? Does that mean you consent to the deal?''

''Do I even have a choice?''

That fateful day, their conversation ended with Rochester asking her to join his ride which she gladly obliged to.

''How much longer do I get to wait until they arrive?'' He announced suddenly, gritting his teeth after.

''I believe she will be here soon.'' Simon stated, in a bid to placate his boss's mood. ''They both will, I'm sure.'' He said, additionally.

Rochester heard what he'd said but simply threw a sideways glance at him, looking away. It was either one of two things… It was either Simon did not understand how impatient he was getting to see Giselle already or perhaps, he just wasn't smart enough to read the signs.

''They'll be here, soon.'' Simon repeated.

Rochester struck him a quick condescending gaze and looked away.

Simon was thus thrown into a fix but Rochester did not seem to care about it. He shot his eyes outside the window.

******

Just outside the inn, a Stagecoach wheeled its legs to a brutal stop. Four slender women had boarded the vehicle, but only one; the most beautiful of all the girls, hopped down first from the cart. Holding onto the sides of her skirt, she was able to support herself all the way down from the vehicle.

''Your fare, ma'am.''

The teenage boy held out his hands to demand for his fee.

Quickly, Louisa zipped open her purse and brought out some money to hand to the coach boy.

''Here, have it!''

He took the tip she'd handed out to him and lurked his gaze over her retreating silhouette. He knew who she was; everyone knew who she was— Louisa Blythe!

Every man who saw her wanted to keep her whilst the sailors who journeyed from the seas fantasised about bedding her. Her beauty was of the fierce kind; so striking that it could pull out the eyes of every man in a manner that would cause them to ogle at her whilst she walked.

Her aura was enchantingly bewitching and this coach boy was not strong enough to resist the allure of her charms.

He kept his eyes on her trail, following her as she trotted on. It wasn't until all that remained was the remnant of her perfume; it wasn't until now that her slender graces had completely disappeared inside the inn together with her, that the boy doffed his hat and settled his eyes on the road. He jerked the horses forward and chimed a brilliant whistle in a bid to block out the ridiculous voices of the girls gossiping boldly about her at the back of his cart.

Louisa sauntered inside the inn, taking such elegant footsteps. Her hair was a single French plait and her dress was a simple white plain. She hadn't done much to adorn herself with jewellery probably because she wanted him to be able to spot the difference later tonight.

Inside, the happy look on people's faces greeted her as a welcomed sight. The sound of vibrant laughter wafted through the air and the atmosphere of that place was deeply serene.

She pushed her other foot forward to meet with the first and then she stopped, right in the centre of that room. She was easily the most attractive being to grace the inn today. Many men sprained their necks just to catch a glimpse of her. The older women simply frowned at her. But Louisa didn't give two hoots about any of them.

Her eyes towered across the tables, glancing over them in search of someone who she was feeling very ecstatic about seeing today. After that first day of seeing him, she knew he had to be the one. Her stomach churned with butterflies every time his thick macho voice resounded in her mind. She fantasised so much about him in the last couple of days that right now, she'd become so giddy.

'Dear Lord, I'll be needing the seven mothers of heaven to help me refrain myself from pouncing on him once I see him.' She mused and then struggled to stifle a beam.

The mission of this evening bothered on her to be able to maintain focus.

She looked over one more table and then she saw him. He was seated laid back and his face was moulded into a look of disgust.

Ugh! He is so charming!

Her heart cells flustered with butterflies, dancing a distinct melody in view of this man. His Chestnut brown hair looked pleasant to the eyes. It slicked neatly to the back in a combed-line pattern. His features stood out from any other man in this place. Even his Retro blue tailored suit looked more expensive than all of the inn.

She internalised her giggle at this point.

Just as she was about to wrap up her mental talk about playing her cards right, Rochester flipped his eyes towards her and like a strong magnet his orbs clutched at her glare. Sharply, and with intensity. His gaze was powerful and boosted with ego.

He then narrowed his eyes on her which caused all her plans to falter in her mind.