Admiral seemed to favour Sebastian—the stable hand—a fact that ached like a stinger embedded under my skin. At first I had thought it to be a preference for the male gender, but that was before I had spotted the black horse landing a kick to Sebastian’s father as he attempted to secure a saddle on the stallion. Mr Brennan had walked with a limp ever since.
I made my way along the river’s edge until I caught sight of Sebastian astride Admiral’s back, taking the horse for a swim. The pale skin of his back gleamed in the morning light. A pair of drawers seemed to be the only garment he was wearing. Soaked through, as they were, they appeared translucent. Moral fortitude would have had me avert my gaze, but somehow I was unable to locate mine. I stared unabashedly, studying his young male form.
I had witnessed the maids bathing their young using the washtubs in the scullery. Never had I seen a male of the same age unclothed before. His limbs were slim, but bore the mark of physical labour in a musculature developed beyond his years. Through some probing, I had recently discovered that although he was a head taller, he had been born a mere six months prior to me. There was an injustice in that I had yet to unburden myself of.
Beside the riverbank, his clothing lay scattered, patches of brown and cream against the burgeoning green blanket of grass. I hatched a plan sure to ruffle the young rooster’s feathers. Lifting my skirts, I scurried down the slope to the water’s edge and gathered his belongings. I checked over my shoulder to see if he had noticed my presence. Admiral tossed his head, but continued to move across the current to the opposite bank. Hurrying back up the hill, I reached the crest and spun around to lie flat on my stomach and observe my foe from behind a screen of bluebells.
Leaning forward, Sebastian gripped the reins and kicked his heels into the horse’s flanks. Admiral took his cue, galloping forward.
My head popped above the cover, fearful that I would witness a tragedy at any minute.
Fool! What was he thinking, racing without a saddle?
He failed to slow down. They vanished over the next hill.
Keeping my eyes fixed on the same spot, I listened for them. The sound of their retreat soon faded, overtaken by the trickle of water along the riverbed and the trees spilling their song.
I flopped onto my back, plucking a bluebell and adding it to my posy of daffodils. I would wait for his return. If he had not reappeared by the time the sun crouched near the horizon, I would simply take a horse and find him.
A nearby cedar tree invited me over with its outstretched limbs offering protection from the sun. Clearing away some discarded cones, I curled against the trunk. His clothes provided an adequate pillow. The smell of cedar wood filled my lungs. Letting my eyelids fall as the breeze kissed my face, I hummed the tune Sebastian had whistled the day we’d met.
His face entered my thoughts. It had changed in the last five years—elongating and losing the fleshy padding that children had in their cheeks. I took a daffodil from the bunch and feathered it across my cheek. I had yet to lose the extra flesh. Of course, this had more to do with the offerings in the drawing and dining rooms than with my youth. I possessed a traitorous sweet tooth that was often the cause of my undoing. Father frequently scolded me for reaching for the desserts a second time. Nevertheless, I continued. Sugar was somewhat of a balm for a life of boredom and discontent.
A yawn stretched my mouth in an unladylike display. Fortunately, the only creatures to bear witness were the bees searching for pollen and the birds twittering above. I sighed, hoping Sebastian was still intact. It would be altogether ghastly if I had to search for him and found him broken. Perish the thought. I preferred to have faith that he would return just as I knew him to be. Infuriating, loyal, hard-working, impatient.
My stomach quivered the more I held him in mind. I found myself in the unenviable position of having grown attached to a boy who, at best, found me tolerable. It was my own fault, I supposed. I’d presented him with a challenge at every available opportunity. Such as now. I adjusted my head on my ‘pillow’, smiling a devious smile.
He secretly thrived on our exchanges. Surely he did. The fraction of a second between seeing me and his controlled responses, his eyes always sparked. That fraction of a second was what I held in my heart. I hoped that it would one day provide enough warmth to foster a true friendship.
My eyes flew open, thoughts scattering as droplets of water sprayed across my cheeks. I sprang up on my elbows, screaming, “Sebastian!”
Standing over me, he maintained his dignity by cupping his palms over his crotch. His drawers were alarmingly transparent at this distance. “Give me my clothes.”
“They didn’t appear to be a requirement.”
“Emmeline.” His ears were red. I could be certain he was angry when his ears flamed, and he addressed me by my given name rather than the preferred honorific of Miss.
My eyes dropped to his hands. I feared it was the devil whispering in my ear for the next thing to come out of my mouth was questionable indeed. “Uncover yourself and I shall return your garments.”
“Pardon?” Pink infused his cheeks.
My eyes rose to his face. “Remove your hands. Please? I want to see.”
Keeping covered, he squatted before resting on his knees. “It is hardly fair if you get to
