Lips That Lied || hs

Sixty-Seven

Edinburgh, United Kingdom
July 1852

It had been quite some time since James had gone horseback riding, but now that he was back in the country, he was pleased that his circumstances allowed it nearly everyday. Upon he and Thomas's initial arrival in Edinburgh, James had been somewhat unsure of what exactly he was supposed to be doing to fill his days, but by the fifth day, he had a sort of schedule that he liked to follow. Of course, Thomas required that he get up at a decent hour every morning and always make a timely appearance at dinner, but outside of those rules, his days were entirely his own. It was odd though, since the last time he had come to Edinburgh, he had been off galavanting with his friends, and with drinking off the table, he hardly knew what to do with himself.

At Thomas's urging, James spent a great deal of his time walking through the city or riding outside of it, though he was careful to avoid areas where he might happen to know someone. Realistically, the chances of seeing  an old friend of his was rather slim; however, James didn't want to risk it, lest he cave to the cravings that continued to gnaw at his subconscious. After all, the whole point of coming to Edinburgh was so that he could learn to overcome his nature without the difficulties of London, so putting himself into a position where he might be caught off guard was not something he was willing to do.

It was for this reason that very soon, James found that his days were characterized by loneliness. He did talk to Thomas some; however, when they were together, Thomas tended to ask rather prying questions that James didn't particularly care about answering, some even concerning his father. Of course, James did answer these inquiries when he had no other choice, but largely, he tried to avoid discussing anything to do with his father. He didn't see how it would help anything now; the man was dead, and James was determined to be different than him. That was enough.

Thus, James preferred to spend most of the day out of the house. He would get up and have breakfast with Thomas, then begin his morning walk by setting off in a direction he had never taken before. This would lead him to some place for lunch, at which point he would then turn around and head back to the house with the intention of going on a ride. He often thought of Jane when he did this, because despite not knowing much of her, he did know how much she delighted in riding, and after spending so much time alone, he could understand why.

There was a sense of empowerment to be gained by sitting atop a horse's back and flying over the fields. It was freeing to forget the cares of the world and instead focus on keeping rhythm with the movements of the powerful animal carrying him. His heart raced as he rode, and with the warm weather, sweat began to gather at his brow and dampen his dark hair. It was a healthy sort of activity, and as James rode out to the top of Arthur's Seat one day, he found himself wishing that Jane was there to join him. He wasn't sure if she had ever been to Scotland before, but if she could see the scenery before him, he was sure she would enjoy it, maybe even more than he did.

Arthur's Seat was a large, grassy hill just west of Edinburgh, and as the highest peak in the vicinity, it provided a clear view of the city, the surrounding lands, and the coast. On a sunny day, the sky projected a vibrant hue of blue onto the water so that it glittered like fish scales in the light of the sun. The image made James almost wish he had taken a trip to the coastline instead of the top of the hill, but as the warm summer breeze tousled his hair and dried the sweat on his back, he was quite happy with where he found himself.

After all, the docks would have been no place to accomplish what he hoped to anyway, and the quiet of the grass rustling in the breeze was the only distraction he could manage. The fact of the matter was James hadn't come to the top of Arthur's Seat for the sake of the view. He had come there to write, and if he was going to produce something of sufficient quality, he needed to have a clear mind.