by J M Hemmings
‘That was not what I meant, William,’ she murmured gently, staring down at William with compassion glowing in her gaze. ‘I am no princess, and I certainly do not wish to undermine your dignity as a free man by having you kiss my muddy riding boots. That’s all I meant by it.’
‘But I meant what I said,’ he declared as a swirling tornado of both fear and bravado began spinning within his core. ‘I’m nowt but a lowly farmhand. You, on the other hand, are nobility. And what’s more, you’re the finest, most … most absolutely beautiful an’ angelic example ay a human being I’ve e’er had the privilege tae lay my eyes upon. I’ll no’ forget this moment, no for the rest ay me days. The time I almost, almost got tae kiss the toes ay an angel.’
William bowed his head again as a hot blush reddened his face. Aurora stared in silence at him, with compassionate gentleness drawn about her features, yet he dared not look up and meet her gaze.
‘Thank you, William,’ she murmured. ‘Such words are often spoken to me by all manner of arrogant and pompous suitors, but when you say them, for the first time I feel as if I have met someone who actually means them.’
‘With all my heart I mean them,’ William said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
‘Rise William, please. There is no need to kneel before me.’
‘As you command, Aurora.’
The tinkle of her laughter shattered the brittle tension of the moment, melting the jagged fragments instantly with its warmth. A surge of courage fired sudden heat through William’s veins, and he glanced up at Aurora, daring at last to meet her eyes with his. She answered his look with a subtle curving of her mouth, and life sparkled with the effervescent glee of a mountain spring in her eyes. Both of them felt invisible energy surging between their irises, and each of them quickly looked away, both charged and terrified at once by the intensity of it all.
‘We must hurry,’ Aurora urged, breaking the tense, pulse-racing silence. ‘Although, perhaps, not at quite the pace you were setting when galloping!’
‘Aye,’ William agreed, feeling a sudden surge of energy and optimism as he sprang back onto his horse. ‘After me!’
He took off at speed, but kept his pace steady enough that she could follow him without much difficulty. Together they raced through the darkening forest, laughing as they went. Eventually they emerged from the trees and galloped across a landscape of broad green plains and undulating hills, through which a stream carved a meandering path. After a time, they slowed their hard-breathing, exhausted mounts to a gentle trot, and William reined his mount in, peering over his shoulder at Aurora.
‘Which way now?’
‘West. Quickly!’
William turned and faced the setting sun.
‘‘Tis a beautiful sight, is it not?’ he said, gazing in contemplation at the great, fiery red orb as it retreated beyond the distant mountains.
‘Aye, it is, William. Helios, the Greeks called it in ancient times.’
‘Helios, m’lady? Beggin’ your pardon, but what’s Helios?’
‘Not “what”, but “who”,’ she answered. ‘Helios was the Greek titan who pulled the sun in a chariot across the sky, day after day. My boring old tutor taught me that. I suppose not all of the history of antiquity is so dull, after all, for I do like the idea of Helios. What do you think about it?’
‘I think we should chase him an’ try tae catch his chariot! I’ll wager I could!’
Aurora laughed.
‘I believe you, William. Let’s pursue this sun god and overtake his chariot of fire!’
They spurred on their horses and sped off across the rolling expanse of green, streaking towards the ever-fleeing fire, and the crispness of the falling evening air washed over their young bodies and filled their lungs with its invigorating freshness. As they galloped, side by side, William turned to stare at Aurora. The sight of her astride her horse, with the wind streaming through her hair and her bright eyes mirroring the flames of the dying sun, was a vision that at once took his breath away. His heart sprang into his mouth with a lurch of panic as this mesmerising distraction caused him to almost lose control of his mare. Aurora glanced across at him at that very moment, catching his fumble and near-fall, and she let out a cheerful chortle.
‘I saw that, William!’ she shouted.
‘Aye, and I did it just for your amusement!’ he responded, his heart still thumping madly from both the near-accident and the excitement her proximity to him brought to him.
‘I like the manner in which you amuse me!’ she laughed.
Just after the last sliver of molten iron sank behind the hills, the riders veered around the perimeter of a tall, grassy mound, and William saw below him a Georgian mansion perched on the edge of a small loch. Aurora reined up her horse next to him and began to speak.
‘This is my father’s estate, William. I need to hurry back and hand Robert over to the stable hands, so I must take my leave of you now. Thank you for accompanying me here.’
‘I am honoured tae have done so, Aurora,’ William said. ‘Can I no’ ride with you tae the stables?’
‘No,’ she answered with cool firmness, looking away. ‘I’m … I’m sorry William, if my father were to see that I’ve been out riding with…’
‘Wi’ a stable boy,’ William sighed with resigned sadness, completing her sentence for her. ‘I understand, m’lady.’
She bowed her head, and William’s eyes traced the delicate contours of her silhouette against the great yellow moon that had begun to rise in the distance.
‘I have most enjoyed your company this afternoon, William,’ she said after a few moments of silence.
‘As have I, Aurora. It saddens me tae part with you. Would tha’ I could look upon your face one more time after today.’
‘It would likewise please me to look upon your face once more,’ she murmured.
William’s heart began to hammer in huge, thudding thumps as he heard these words.
‘It … it would?’ he managed to splutter. ‘I’d … I’d do anything you ask ay me, absolutely anything, tae see you again.’
Her eyes lit up in the falling dusk.
‘Meet me again by the stream where we first met, next Sunday.’
Great surges of hot blood gushed through William’s body, and his heart felt as if it would smash through the flimsy ribcage that was at that moment only just managing to constrain its furious beating.
‘When, m’lady?’
‘Noon. Wait for me when the sun is highest in the sky.’
‘I will dae that … Aurora.’
The name was as pure, vaporised magic as it escaped from his lips.
‘Farewell William. Until we meet again…’
‘Until we meet again,’ he whispered as he watched her turn and speed off towards the estate.
William wheeled his horse about and trotted off in the opposite direction. He knew that he would be in immense trouble when he finally made it back to his employer’s estate, but this did not concern him in the slightest, for infusing his blood with addictive vigour with every beat of his young heart was the exhilaration of new love.
***
‘You’re still sure it was worth it, are you?’ Michael asked, grinning, as he brushed the gleaming flanks of the black mare before him. ‘After shovelling manure fir the last three days fir comin’ back so late?’
William chuckled, vigorously brushing the chestnut stallion in the adjacent stall, adolescent pride adding a zesty glow to his youthful features as he worked.
‘Worth every minute ay it Mikey, worth every minute!’
Michael chortled and shook his head. The corners of his wide mouth, surrounded all around by a dense growth of auburn stubble, which covered the entirety of his powerful, square jaw, curved up into an amused smile. He paused his work and strolled over to lean on the stall divider. Attired in a simple white shirt, grubby and grime-stained from manual labour, and plain brown trousers and brown shoes, the way he was dressed made it impos
sible for him to mistaken for anything but a farmhand, but his build said otherwise. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing thick, muscular forearms, and the broad, powerfully muscled shoulders that strained the breadth of his shirt, along with his barrel chest, made him look far more like an experienced blacksmith than a stable hand. At six foot four inches, Michael towered over most men and cut an imposing figure wherever he went. His large, oblong-shaped head was crowned with an unkempt mass of curly red hair, and his pale face, with its multitude of freckles, was an arrangement of rounded, unobtrusive features; there were no sharp angles to be seen, not in nose, cheek or brow. His small, cheerful eyes were glowing emeralds, their hue enhanced by the contrast to the hue of his hair, and above them were perched thin ginger eyebrows, which at rest seemed frozen into an almost quizzical expression.
‘You always ha’ loved the ladies, Will, I’ll say tha’ much,’ he said, the tone of his voice gruff and deep. ‘A right Romeo you are, boyo, aye. But dunnae get yoursel’ tae caught up in this latest one,’ he cautioned. ‘You said yoursel’ tha’ she’s some sort ay noblewoman. I’m surprised she even deigned tae speak moar words tae you than, “dae this, dae tha’, stable hand, an’ lick my boots while you’re at it”, aye.’
‘She’s no’ like tha’ Mikey,’ William countered, ‘no’ at all. She’s no’ like the ladies in this here estate. She’s—’
‘Different,’ Michael interjected with a sigh and a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes. ‘You always say tha’ Will, about all ay these women you set your sights on. An’ then you always end up gettin’ yoursel’ in trouble somehow. Come on boyo, enough ay this now. Forget about her.’
‘I cannae,’ William insisted, and there was both defiance and resignation in his tone. ‘There’s somethin’ about her, Mikey, somethin’ tha’ … I dunnae, just believe me when I tell you tha’ she’s … different. Special. Wonderful!’
Michael released a long, slow sigh and shook his head.
‘If you willnae listen tae your best friend, you willnae listen tae no-one, no’ even the Queen hersel’, God bless ‘er.’
William grinned at his friend, and paused brushing the horse to reach over the stall divider and punch him playfully on his shoulder.
‘Dunnae think tha’ I dunnae appreciate your advice, Mikey. Blimey, you are my best friend, an’ you an’ I, we’ve been through a lot taegether, from the days ay fakin’ flues wi’ tha’ monster Goody-Goode. An’ I’ll admit, aye, I’ll admit tha’ you’ve been right about those lasses most ay the time—’
‘All ay the time, thank you very much,’ Michael corrected.
‘All right, all right, fine, all ay the time before,’ William said, ‘but this time I think you’re wrong. Aurora … she’s … I dunnae Mikey, but I know one way or another, tha’ lass is different, she’s taken a kind ay hold ay me tha’ I’ve ne’er before experienced, like. I know her future an’ mine will be entwined, like two vines meetin’ in the canopy ay the forest.’
‘If you say so Will, if you say so,’ Michael murmured, his tone mostly compassionate, but tainted nonetheless with traces of scepticism.
‘Well anyway,’ William continued, ‘whate’er happens wi’ this lass or any other lass, fir tha’ matter, fir you’ve still got your Bethany who sells turnips in the village market, have you no’?’
Micheal blushed, looked away and coughed awkwardly. Even though he was the biggest, strongest and often loudest of the four young men, a peculiar shyness came over him whenever conversation turned to the topic of girls.
‘Er, aye, Bethany, she’s a pretty wee thing, she is,’ he muttered, still avoiding eye contact with William, who chuckled with gentle mirth at this.
‘Well as I was trying tae say, lasses aside, we’ll always ha’ each other – you an’ me, an’ Pauly an’ Andy. The best friends that e’er were, are we no’? We’ve gone through hell, but still we’re like brothers, ne’er tae be parted.’
William grinned, his face glowing with fraternal love, and threw his arm around Michael’s shoulder, pulling the big man in for a quick, tight hug.
‘Aye,’ Michael grunted, a sudden and inexplicable darkness coming abruptly over him. ‘Like brothers … ne’er tae be parted.’
11
WILLIAM
August 1852. A forest in Aberdeenshire, Scotland
William leaned back against the rough-barked trunk of the sprawling oak tree, delighting in the dappled midday sunlight that fell through the latticework of leaves, and then, content and relaxed, he turned a page of his novel. Any time he opened a book, an inner cavern of his mind lit up with a million candle flames, stretching its borders of wonder to beyond the infinite.
It had been this way ever from the time, as a boy, he had been taught to read by Sir MacTaggart’s resident tutor. Since those days he had had an insatiable appetite for stories, for adventure, for tales of far-off lands populated by dashing heroes and dastardly villains, the likes of which he had resigned himself to never seeing or experiencing in person out here in the stretched-out days of this pastoral existence. Yet in this too he was content; despite the thirteen years that had passed, he had not forgotten the horrors and despair of his life as a chimney sweep, and the suffering that had seemed to be an inescapable part of existence in that phase of his life now appeared even more stark in its harshness when measured against the yardstick of his current lifestyle.
He fingered the corner of the page he was reading with eager digits; a quick and energetic youth, he verged on the hyperactive, and in his eager and convivial manner of speech he exchanged banter with both stranger and friend with equal ease. He exhibited a penchant for physical activity, and especially took great joy in the exquisite splendour of nature and the outdoors. And everything he did, he threw every ounce of himself into; it was perhaps his greatest weakness as well as his greatest strength, for he had no concept of moderation. No, for William, in all things he did, it was all or nothing. Now, engrossed utterly in his novel, he was too entranced by the story and characters to notice the horse padding through the carpet of leaves near him.
‘William?’
‘Aurora!’ he blurted out, rising quickly and awkwardly to his feet. It came of something of a shock to see her again; since they had first met hardly a moment had passed in which she had not been running through his thoughts. The moment their eyes met was beyond surreal, and for a moment – a single, precious moment – it was as if the sands of time froze, taking a break from their ceaseless onward drive, the grains hovering weightlessly in the hourglass. ‘I’m sorry, I didnae see you, I was just reading a novel, see … I brought some ay mine fir you tae look at, like, seein’ as yer auld master ay letters—’
‘Thank you William!’ she exclaimed before he could finish, her voice infused with grateful delight. As always when she was out riding on her own, she wore her wavy hair loose about her shoulders, something that she could not do at home, or in public. Today she was dressed in tan riding gloves, a rich navy-blue riding habit, gleaming black boots and an elaborately constructed riding that, glamorously accessorised with peacock feathers. ‘You are most considerate!’ she continued. ‘But before you show me those lovely books, let’s ride upstream to the waterfall. I’ve brought some food, and wine too. We can have a picnic!’
‘The waterfall? Where’s tha’ then?’
Cheeky mischief sparkled in Aurora’s eyes, and there was a playful deepening of her dimples as she spoke.
‘It appears that I have a deeper knowledge than yourself of the secret spots of this forest, William. Disappointing, very disappointing!’
‘Ohhh, the waterfall,’ William retorted with a swift grin, ‘an’ by that you mean tha’ spot where water tumbles from the heights o’er the rocks down intae a pool below? Ay course I know the place! I just call it, the fall-water, see?’
Aurora chortled as she wheeled her horse around.
‘Oh, so you do know of the place then, William? Well then, why don’t you be a good gentleman and lead me there?
’
William jumped to his feet and dusted himself off. He was dressed in a plain, rough-spun suit of grey and brown, and sported an oversized cloth cap on his head. A few strands of his hair fell across his eyes as he stood up, and he quickly brushed them aside, his jovial face glowing with barely contained excitement all the while.
‘I know every spot in this forest, every one! But I wouldnae want tae appear a braggart, see, so I’ll give you the honour ay leading me tae the waterfall. How does tha’ sound?’
Aurora rolled her golden eyes melodramatically before flashing William another of her dazzling smiles.
‘Very well William, I’ll lead. Come on then!’
After around an hour of riding, throughout the course of which William and Aurora chatted with a growing sense of mutual attraction, they arrived at the waterfall. William, however, could bask in no awe from the beauty of the place; he found himself too lost in Aurora’s entrancing eyes, in her effortless gracefulness, and the hypnotic lilt of her voice.
The waterfall itself was outside the forest, set in a landscape of rolling hills that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The terrain was lush and green, but it was too steep and littered with rocks and boulders for agriculture or settlement. Out near the edge of the horizon a herd of highland cattle grazed, looking like mere children’s playthings in the distance. The waterfall was not a massive one; perhaps around thirty feet high, but it dropped into a steeply walled, sheltered pool, which was almost entirely invisible amidst the undulating peaks and dips of the grassy landscape until one was right on top of it.
‘Look, up there,’ Aurora said, pointing at the peak of the highest hill in the area, which was around a mile from them.
‘Standing stones,’ William commented as he peered at the circle of half-toppled oblong stones on top of the hill.
‘Have you heard of Stonehenge, William?’
‘No, I’ve no’ heard ay that.’
‘It’s a circle of standing stones, much like the one over there, but far larger. Nobody is quite sure how the ancient people got those gargantuan stones to stand upright, and to stack them on top of one another in a formation like that. I’ve been there, you know. It’s quite incredible.’
