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.’
‘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,’
