by J M Hemmings
‘Hamish, he’s an auld codger who’s the master ay hounds at Sir MacTaggart’s estate, he’s nigh on a hundred years old he is, well he told me tha’ standing stones are where faeries dance under the light ay the full moon. He said that there inside those stone circles, the light ay the moon opens a secret door that takes you tae the faery world … but if you go through it, you’ll ne’er come back tae our world again.’
‘I’m sure your Hamish must be quite the interesting character,’ Aurora remarked. ‘Is he really a hundred years old?’
William chuckled before he replied.
‘He tells everyone he is, an’ he looks it too! Why, his face is as shrivelled as a pair ay auld billy goat bollocks!’
‘William!’ Aurora shrieked, bursting into a fit of giggles. ‘How dare you say such a thing to a lady!’
Genuine laughter lit up her face, and William could see that despite her protest she had enjoyed the jape.
‘I have a feeling you’re no’ like most high-born ladies, Aurora,’ he said, his tone now serious. ‘Nowt like the rest ay ‘em at all.’
They stared into one another’s eyes for a few moments, and each was simultaneously entranced by and terrified of the intensity of emotion therein.
‘Yes, you’re right, William. I … I cannot stand to be caged, to be constricted so by these, these ridiculous societal conventions. I wish I could be free, William, I long for it more than anything! How my heart longs for it, and always has! Free to do as I wish, to behave in whatsoever manner catches my fancy. That’s why I spend so much time riding, when I can – to escape their world of manners, of graces, of these silly, silly put-on falsehoods and insincerities that seem to govern the world of my peers.’
‘Aye … freedom,’ William murmured.
‘I’m sorry William, I don’t mean to complain,’ Aurora said, speaking in a more subdued and less passionate tone of voice. ‘Believe me, I am grateful for many things that I have, that I have been given. It’s just that freedom is worth so much more than anything I now possess.’ She paused to sigh and stare for a time at the sky, a realm of denied possibilities whirling through her mind in a sad gale of regret and longing. ‘Come,’ she said eventually, putting on a more cheerful face, ‘let’s go and sit by the pool.’
‘Aye, let’s do tha’.’
He stared into her eyes for a while, and saw that despite her smile, hurt lingered there. He did not know what to say, so he looked away and coughed as a blush reddened his cheeks.
‘Here, this is the way to the bottom,’ Aurora said, seeming not to notice William’s sudden discomfort. ‘We’ll have to tether the horses before we go, though, because it’s too steep for them to get down.’
They tethered their horses to a nearby shrub, near which there was plenty of grass on which they could graze, and then Aurora led William down a precarious, rock-strewn footpath into the gulley where the cascading waters plummeted into a dark pool.
‘This is quite a magical spot,’ William commented – a second before he slipped on a loose stone and almost fell, only just regaining his footing in time to prevent a swift and painful descent. Aurora looked back and giggled, but there was neither malice nor mockery in her laughter.
‘You’re not quite as sure on your own feet as you are on those of a horse, are you?’
He chortled, glad to have been provided with the opportunity to inject some humour into the conversation.
‘I should ay been born a centaur. These twa human legs ay mine are nowhere near as good as the hooves ay a horse!’
They reached the pool after a mildly treacherous descent, in which William thrice slipped and wobbled and almost tumbled down the slippery scree.
‘Aurora m’lass, it’s really lovely down here,’ he remarked, taking in the scene with quiet wonder as they sat down on a smooth rock that was just the right size to serve as a bench.
‘It will become even more fantastical shortly,’ Aurora said, flashing William a cryptic smile.
‘Will it then?’ he asked with a playfully raised eyebrow and a subtly curled lip.
‘It will, trust me. But for the time being, would you like to read me something out of those wonderful “mind-rot” novels that you enjoy reading so much?’
‘Aye Aurora! It’d dae me great honour tae read fir the likes ay you.’
William retrieved a battered copy of Dickens’s The Adventures of Oliver Twist from his satchel, while Aurora took some bread, cheese and wine from hers.
‘I think you’ll really enjoy Oliver Twist,’ William commented as he opened up the book. ‘Especially seeing as I’m going tae do all the voices fir you, as best I can!’
‘Oh, you’re an actor too now, are you William?’ she laughed. ‘Here, have some wine and bread first. Our cook baked it this morning.’
William took a hunk of bread and tore into it with a hearty bite, chewing on it with an appreciative grin.
‘Your baker knows how tae make a fine loaf, he does!’
‘Here, some wine now to wash it down, go on, I insist!’
Aurora took an enamel cup from her satchel and filled it up with wine for William. When she handed it to him her fingers brushed his, and she allowed them to linger on his hand. As his skin met hers, William felt as if hundreds of candle flames were searing his skin with an irresistible yet delectable heat. Their eyes locked as her fingertips transferred their blistering energy from her body to his, and the same exchange of glorious voltage traversed the air via their gaze. At once William felt light-headed, and he swayed on his knees and stumbled back involuntarily. Aurora kept her eyes locked into his, though, and she chuckled, ever so softly, and in her laughter was a hint of an invitation. William grinned and took a greedy gulp of his wine, feeling an immediate and heady rush as the slightly bitter liquid rushed down his throat.
He cleared his throat and began his reading of Oliver Twist, and with melodramatic flair he put on exaggerated impressions of the voices of the various characters in the novel. Aurora was delighted by his vivid, animated acting, and she had to frequently pause in her consumption of bread and wine to let out bouts of laughter. After a while though, she held her finger to her lips, silencing William just as he was about to read one of Fagin’s lines.
‘William, wait. Look, look up there, at the standing stones.’
William set down the book and turned to follow her gaze. He saw the copper rays of the sun stabbing through a gap between two stones, filling the void with molten metal fire.
‘It’s really pretty, Aurora, but—’
‘Wait, that’s not all. Now have a look at the waterfall.’
He turned and stared at the sheet of rushing water, and saw that the ray of sunlight that was shining through the gap between the stones was also hitting the sheet of water, anointing the tumbling liquid with a gemstone dazzle.
‘Only for a day or two every year will the sun reveal the secret,’ she said. ‘And it has to be on this exact date.’
‘Secret? This exact date?’
‘Behind the water, William. I discovered it five years ago, quite by chance. I’ve always had a strange fascination with those standing stones, and I’ve ridden out here many times, ever since I was a little girl. But five years ago to the day, I discovered something very special about them, and about this waterfall.’
William’s interest was piqued.
‘What did you find? Was it faeries? Was it?’ he asked with wide eyes.
Aurora laughed.
‘Do you really think that faeries dance in the stone circle beneath the full moon, William?’
William scratched his head and bit on his lower lip.
‘I’m no’ sure, Aurora. There are stranger things in this world than we can imagine, I believe. An’ all the auld folk in the villages around Sir MacTaggart’s estate swear tha’ they’ve seen ‘em. Whenever I’ve ridden near any stone circles, I’ve felt … well I have tae say, I’ve felt something weird an’ uncanny. A prickling all over my skin, like. I’m no’ sure
if it’s good or bad, but I cannae deny tha’ those stones make me feel something.’
Aurora stared straight into William’s eyes, her expression intense in its bold sincerity.
‘We have ghosts in our manor, William. I’ve seen them myself on late, dark nights, half-visible in the shadows cast by candlelight. So I know, no, I’m certain in fact, that another world beyond this one exists. However, as much as I’d like to believe that the standing stones are a gateway to the world of the faeries, we cannot waste time talking of those things right now. What I want to show you here has nothing to do with ghosts, faeries, witches, kelpies, or anything otherworldly.’
‘That’s a good thing, because I’m no’ so sure I’d like tae dance wi’ no faeries!’
Aurora laughed warmly.
‘There are no faeries here, William. Well, there,’ she said, her gaze drifting across to the waterfall.
‘In the water?’
‘Behind it, as I said. That’s why we’re going to swim across.’
William wasn’t sure if the fiery lick that lashed his skin was a result of his mild drunkenness, or whether it had been prompted by what she had just said, but what he did know was that as soon as she uttered those words his knees had become weak, and the ends of his fingers had begun to tingle with a delightful prickling.
‘But, why, our clothes will, they’ll be soaked, an’, an’, we dunnae have no dry ones.’
His bumbling speech made him only too aware of how completely his charisma appeared to have deserted him at this moment. Aurora, however, seemed completely nonchalant.
‘You swim in your clothes, William?’ she teased, her lips wickedly curved, and parted in a suggestive grin that verged on sultriness. ‘My, my, I wasn’t aware that you were a lady of the landed classes.’
‘Well ay course I’m no’,’ he stammered in reply, ‘but you are!’
Aurora rolled her eyes and a flash of annoyance flickered across her face.
‘I am most indebted to you for pointing that out, William.’
‘But Aurora, we, we cannae swim together! It’s no’, it’s no’ … modest,’ William gasped, his embarrassed words doing little to disguise the hungry excitement that was pulsing though his body.
‘Who will know of it, William? I won’t speak a word of it to a soul, and there’s nobody out here for miles. Unless, of course, you will tell someone?’
‘I cannae … I really…’
Hot teenage blood seemed as rocks and poking roots on the steep-sloped course down which William was sprinting – sprinting, yes, but mostly stumbling and careening out of control. In contrast, Aurora was quite at ease. She folded her arms and adopted the tone of a schoolmarm talking to a petulant student.
‘William, I have spent the last three summers at a most prestigious lycée of the arts in Marseilles. In fact, I only just returned from France three weeks ago, so rest assured, you will not be the first unclothed male I have laid my eyes upon. We painted the nude form, both male and female, in a tremendous variety of poses.’
‘But Aurora you, I mean I … I cannae see you in the, I mean, wi’out clothes…’
She held a finger up to her lips to silence him, her dimples deepening into a teasing grin.
‘Hush now and have another cup of wine. Mm, yes, wine! I developed quite a taste for it in Marseilles, you know. After a few glasses I am able to half-believe in the illusion of freedom, for a short time at least. It is quite a wondrous liquid, is it not?’ She paused here to drink deeply of her own wine before continuing. ‘I posed nude for the masters’ painting class at the lycée as well, you see. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you? I posed for the masters, William, the greatest painters in all of France! And I cannot fully describe how empowering and liberating an experience it was. I felt delightfully wicked, but also … free, utterly free for the first time in my life. Of course, my stuffy old father knows nothing about it, and I’m sure I’d be locked in the tower for the rest of my life if he did. But really, there’s no need whatsoever for the stifling conservative morality that is so characteristic of the clime of this grey island. It’s so suffocating, so crushing and hypocritical! Things are so much more progressive on the continent, so very much more progressive!’ Aurora seemed to be aflame with a frenzied passion, and the words poured from her lips like gushing molten metal, sparking and hissing from a foundry crucible. ‘I have the soul of an eagle William! I’ve felt it, yes, I have, deep within my bones ever since I was a little girl. Freedom William, freedom! It’s the one and only thing that I actually desire with all of my heart … and the one thing that I cannot have. My father, with his estate and his title, with all of his money and prestige and power, he buys me dresses, jewellery, horses, artworks … and yet I couldn’t care a fig for any of that humbug. Freedom, William, freedom. That is the most precious jewel anyone could ever give me.’
William nodded, and the intense look that burned in his eyes – a look possessed of deep compassion and raw sincerity – spoke of the plain truth of both his feelings and the words they birthed.
‘If it were my gift to give thee, I’d give it a thousand times over, Aurora. If I could give all tha’ I have, an’ all tha’ I am tae gain you your freedom, I wouldnae hesitate tae dae it. No’ fir one second.’
Aurora gazed into his eyes, and her own topaz gems glistened with a thin rim of tears.
‘You can … and you have, William. You’re giving it to me right now, and you have been giving it to me since first we met. You do not expect anything from me, you do not tell me what to do or how to act, you do not criticise me nor chastise me nor tell me that my behaviour and attitude are “unladylike”, or anything of the sort. You do not flatter me with false praise and empty, clichéd compliments, and you do not act, like so many other men do, as if my title and my looks are the only things about me that are of any consequence. You simply accept me as I am, as I wish to be. And that is the greatest gift that anyone has ever given me.’
William could not hide the immensity of emotion boiling and frothing in his own eyes, but he managed to steady his voice and speak with a calm clarity.
‘I didnae realise tha’ I’ve done so much fir you, but I’m glad tha’ I’ve been able tae dae so. More glad ay tha’ fact than ay anything else I’ve otherwise accomplished in life. I’ll drink tae tha’.’
William poured himself a cup of wine, and refilled Aurora’s as well.
‘Tae freedom,’ he said, raising his cup.
‘To freedom.’
Both of them quaffed the wine quickly, and neither could take their eyes off the other as they did. William finished his cup first and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘‘Tis good wine, m’lady,’ he remarked, hesitating and blushing self-consciously before he continued. ‘At least I think it is. I’m more accustomed tae drinking tavern ale with the lads.’
Aurora laughed.
‘It’s a fine vintage, from France,’ she said.
The pair of them continued to drink in silence for a while. After Aurora emptied her cup she smiled at William. The inner rim of her lips was stained purple, and somehow this made her mouth seem even more delectable to him. He did not know if she could see how painfully his desire was crackling in his eyes, but he was almost certain that he could detect more than a mere hint of it in hers; those bright irises seemed to glow like fanned coals against the ash-pale hue of her skin. She, however, broke the spell of the moment by turning to face the waterfall again.
‘We must hurry, because the sight I wish you to see cannot be seen again, at least not until this very date next year. See, the sun is about to shine on the exact spot.’
William’s blood was afire with both Dutch courage from the alcohol and the inferno of his desire.
‘Aye. Let’s swim.’
‘Close your eyes,’ she said softly, with more than a hint of suggestive playfulness. ‘And promise me you won’t open them until I’m in the water.’
‘Aye. I swear I�
�ll no’ open them,’ he said, imagining though that he might renege on this promise.
‘Promise me William!’
‘I swear it.’
‘Very well. The faeries will take you if you break that promise!’
‘If I make a promise tae you, I’ll keep it until the end ay time, Aurora. That I swear on everything I hold dear.’
‘Then close your eyes.’
William did as he was told, and he could hear her slipping out of her clothes. His mind conjured what his eyes were unable to see, and he desperately wished to peek. He almost did, but, ultimately, he did not allow himself to give in to that temptation; to break his promise, even if she did not know that he had, would be to break something inside himself that he never wished to see broken. All of the heroes he read about in his novels, all valued honour and integrity above everything else, and a man of honour and integrity was what he intended to be. He heard a splash and a shriek of glee; Aurora was in the water.
‘You can open your eyes now,’ she called out, laughing as she did.
William’s eyelids parted, allowing a scene of such exquisite splendour to flood his senses that he almost stumbled and fell. Mere metres away from where the rippling water was lapping against the rock walls of the pool, Aurora was floating in an upright position, her arms spread wide. A spray of microscopic droplets glinted in a rainbow dazzle from the sun, and her pale, lithe form was tantalisingly half-visible through the ripples.
Alcohol-emboldened blood gushed through William’s veins; it was throbbing with a keen, simmering heat in his temples and rushing through his ears … and pooling with relentless fury in another part of his anatomy.
‘Get in William, hurry!’ Aurora shouted.
‘Now it’s your turn tae close your eyes!’
‘I’ve seen countless nudes at the lycée, William. I’ll—’
William shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.
‘I had tae dae it, now I must ask the same courtesy ay you!’ he insisted.
