Path of the Tiger

neck was hidden by the velvet collar of the forest-green dress, with gold thread accents, that she was wearing, the sight of the creamy skin that was visible, and that of her ears, in which ruby earrings sparkled, filled his mind with a desire to kiss and nuzzle these areas, which were usually hidden behind a curtain of silky hair.

‘My poet,’ she purred, every syllable infused with passionate emotion. ‘My warrior poet.’

William chuckled.

‘I’m no warrior, love.’

‘Technically you are, William!’ she said, her radiant smile – its infectiousness enhanced by the deep smile-creases that appeared at the corners of her mouth – adding a glow to her countenance that almost made William’s knees buckle beneath him. ‘Must I remind you that you’re a private of the 17^th Lancers, the famous Death or Glory Boys? Therefore, I will be calling you my warrior poet, whether you like it or not.’

‘I’ve no’ written a word ay true poetry in my life,’ William protested, ‘an’ I’ve ne’er raised my sword against no foe. I’m just … just me. No more, no less.’

‘You don’t consider all the letters you write to me as being true poetry? They’re beautiful, your words, like the most vivid daubs of colour on an artist’s palette … they awaken a yearning in my soul, they set my body afire and dance the glory of the Northern Lights before my eyes in the darkness of night, when I lie alone in my bed and read them.’

‘Do they really?’ William asked, raising both eyebrows with genuine surprise. ‘I mean, I just wrote wha’ I felt about you, in, er, in the kind ay language tha’ I thought you’d enjoy. I wouldnae call it true poetry, as such, I’m just a—’

She pressed a finger against his lips, silencing him.

‘Hush, my warrior poet. I’ll not have any more of this “I’m nothing but a stable boy” talk. You are what you make yourself, and you’ll remain a stable boy forever if you convince yourself of it in your mind, but by the same token you can walk as an emperor among men … if you will it.’

‘I can only hope and pray fir such loftiness, Aurora. Tae be sure, it’d be a good sight easier fir us if I was an actual emperor. Your father, why, he’d be mighty well impressed wi’ me, no?’

Attired in the finery of his navy blue and white 17^th Lancers dress uniform, William certainly did look a lot more dashing and dapper than he had as a stable hand. However, despite appearances, he was still a mere private in rank, and this, combined with the reputation of enlisted soldiers as being uncouth ruffians, would have done nothing to endear him to Aurora’s father. Neither of them wished to dwell too long on this unfortunate truth.

‘William the Magnificent, they would call you,’ Aurora cried with a bell-like laugh. ‘You’re halfway there, dressed in that fancy uniform.’

William guessed that she was exaggerating to placate his feelings of inadequacy. While he did cut a fine figure in his uniform, even the dress uniform of a private was a far cry from the extravagance of an officer’s getup, replete with epaulettes, gold piping, lampasses, lanyards, and rows of medals. An officer’s commission remained William’s goal, although after the first few months of training, that prize seemed to have become infinitely more difficult to attain, and this had caused a certain creeping, insidious hopelessness to slither through the pillars of William’s mind, haunting both his dreams and waking hours. He dared not reveal this pessimism and dread to Aurora, though. He smiled, a little too broadly, and squeezed her hand before he replied, hoping that she would not notice the glinting specks of dismay and worry rolling pinball-like around his eyes.

‘Aye, William the Magnificent!’ he exclaimed, his put-on ebullience perhaps a tad too enthusiastic. ‘Emperor ay all four corners ay the Earth, wi’ the most beautiful, magnanimous an’ intelligent Empress Aurora at his side. Together we’d rule the length an’ breadth ay the known world, an’ heal all ills, an’ make right all wrongs, would we no’?’

She stopped and turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck and gazing with blazing intensity into his eyes.

‘Do you really mean that, William? If you were to be emperor of the entire earth, you would have me as your queen?’

‘You an’ only you, m’lady,’ he answered without hesitation, with the absolute conviction in his words crystallised in his piercing stare.

‘And for my emperor, I would have no other,’ she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.

He pulled away before her lips reached his, darting uneasy glances to his left and right.

‘Aurora! There are people around, we cannae—’

‘Oh come on, it’s a Wednesday afternoon! There’s hardly anyone around. That family over there is entirely focused on the sandcastles their children are building, and I doubt the old dames behind us in their heavy frocks can even see us at this distance.’

‘I just dunnae want you tae get in trouble, m’lady. If someone were tae see you, you know, um, er, kissing a lowly trooper in public, wi’ your hair all loose an’ unbound, as it is, an—’

She leaned in quickly, silencing his protests with a languid, smouldering kiss that left them both gasping and tingling with sizzling delight.

‘Aurora, lass,’ he panted, ‘you cannae just dae tha’! What if someone—’

His protesting only encouraged her to do it again, giggling with sultry glee into his mouth as their tongues danced a hidden, sensual tango.

‘I begged father to allow me to study at the Royal Academy of Arts in London,’ she said after they disengaged from the kiss, ‘when I found out you were to be stationed here at Brighton, because it is a short train ride of a few hours. Now here we are, on the opposite end of the island to my father. I highly doubt that he has spies following me around, and furthermore, I also doubt that any of these people on this mostly empty beach