Born to Run

Chapter 6: "How Do I Love Thee?"

Esme stopped in mid-stride at the sound of the guard addressing them. She turned, hair flying. “Yes, sir?” Fitz asked coolly.

 “Please leave. The stables are strictly off-limits.”

Fitz put a protective arm around Esme as the guard looked her over. “We were just looking at my horse.”

The guard harrumphed. “I believe you’ve had ample time to inspect your steed. Now, if you please.”

“Come, Miss Esme.” Fitz tugged on her arm, but she was hesitant to leave.

With one last look at where the noise had come, Esme allowed Fitz to guide her out of the stables. “Why would they have restrictions for a place that they keep livestock?” Esme wondered aloud.

Fitz considered this, but then shook his head. “We should not concern ourselves with the King’s business, Miss Esme.” He took her hand. “Come with me.”

Curious, Esme followed. He led her into a small patch of forest that was just beside the mansion, but far enough away not to be noticed. “What is it, Fitz?”

He smiled at the name that escaped from her lips. Fitz. “Just follow,” he said.

They cut through the forest, following an imaginary path as the twigs snapped under their feet, creating a rhythm of movement. She looked at Fitz, who was in front of her, noting how the sun flashed on him every time there was a break in the dense foliage. Her heart swelled. Was this love?

Finally, they reached a clearing, and Esme gave a soft gasp. A simple, whitewashed gazebo stood in the centre of the clearing, naturally decorated with vines and leaves from the forest. Green fingers seemed to wrap around the little white building, almost protecting it from whatever might want to intrude. Little purple flowers bloomed all around the gazebo, adding a brand new variation of colour to the spectacle.

Fitz looked down at her, delighted at her awe. “I found this a while ago.”

“It’s…”Esme struggled for words.

He smiled, and took back her hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

Mouth agape, Esme could only follow. He walked into the gazebo, and sat down on the wooden bench. He patted the space next to him, and she sat as well. “What is the surprise?”

“You asked me to bring sonnets.”

Esme recalled the fact. “Yes, I did.”

Fitz grinned like a triumphant schoolboy. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a book, and thumbed through the pages until he found the one he was looking for. Clearing his throat, he read, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”

Esme smiled, trying to hide the red in her cheeks. “Fitz, you needn’t…”

He looked into her eyes with his smiling blue ones. “Yes, I need to,” he said, returning to his sonnet. Every word seemed to come straight from his heart, like musical notes that turned into a song.

“I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.”