An Improper Courtship

Old Wounds

Edited

*The next morning, James knew he would face her, at dinner, sitting at the table where they had shared countless dinners and conversations, he had felt her absence doubly. He had to apologise, the guilt was consuming him. He had dealt with one monster and was now faced with another, one of his own making. He knew that the apology would change nothing between them and that it wasn't his right to ask for it. Nevertheless, he would do the right thing. He searched in the breakfast room, knocked awkwardly on the drawing-room door, dragged his feet across the endless corridors in the hope he would cross her path. But, Honey had ensured that she wouldn't be found.

She had risen early, asked for breakfast in her room and left through the back door to wander in the gardens. The morning air was a cold that caressed the skin, the wind tickled the nape of her neck as it moved tendrils of her hair. Honey could close her eyes and disassociate as she had learnt to do. She allowed the chitters of the robin and blackbird to transport her away from the pain that was consuming her. Her boots made light contact with the dewy morning grass. Honey made herself comfortable on a bench far from the estate, her back turned away from her home, she stared ahead at the endless trunks of trees before her. Honey shook her looming thoughts away and opened a sketching book she had brought along with her.

James sighed exasperatedly, he had peered in every room of the house and even dared to knock on her bedroom door. James caught a scurrying maid rushing by him, linen towering in her hands.

"Do you know where my cousin Honey would be?" James asked, looking for the girls face behind all the bed material. He couldn't recognise her face. She must be new.

"The mistress went out very early this morning, mi Lord" She replied timidly, a thick rolling of the r's.

James had looked out at the front lawn, "Are you sure?"

She nodded, "Through the back." James thanked her, she curtseyed and scurried away. James rushed out, his heart pumping faster. The cool air carried his long strides. He finally caught sight of Honey, her bent head with red tresses trailing down a brown morning coat. His feet quickened until he was close enough to see the slight movement of her back as she inhaled and exhaled.

Honey knew he was behind her. He had made so much noise with his wide movements and caused the birds to flitter away, taking her morning music with them. It was clear neither knew what to do. Honey could pretend she hadn't heard him but she'd stopped sketching. James realised then that he should have practised what he was going to say because in that instant he was speechless, something rare for him as a poet and a constant joker. The blood rushing to his ears numbed out the sound around him and he could hear only the beat of his heart. He took deep breaths. Honey knew she couldn't pretend much longer and she stood turning to face him.

They felt the dewy cool air pause as the country green brightened and the rustling of the trees increased in volume.

"Welcome back," Honey forced out, her upbringing and education allowed her to say this much.

"It's good to be back," James smiled, it was a weak smile lined with so much un-surety but it still managed to make Honey's heart skip a beat. He hadn't changed much, a haircut, a healthy glow, fewer eye bags than when she'd last seen him. He was still long limbs, towering with an insecure stance. Their eyes hadn't made contact yet. The silence seemed deafening as even the trees stopped their rustling to hear what would come next. Honey lifted her lids to survey James a little better, James followed her gaze.

"How long will you be staying?" Honey didn't know how he'd interpret the question, but she couldn't think of anything else to say to him that wouldn't bring tears.