Crimson. White. Eyes closed, head back, Charlotte lay in the bottom of the boat as it drifted lazily down the river. The sun filtered through her eyelids, creating a shadow theatre of lights and colours. It was a brilliantly sunny day, the sort of day that seemed to be made expressly for lazing around in the grass or, as Charlotte was doing, drifting slowly down a river. Charlotte's summer skin was in its full plumage; arms and shoulders sinfully dark, nose and cheeks covered in a smattering of freckles and her forehead, she felt, beginning to get uncomfortably burnt.
"Damn." Charlotte said, as the felt the hot skin of her brow. She delighted in the cuss, issuing forth into the solitude of the river and its banks. Out here, carried in the soft waves and gentle tugging of the current, nobody cared or noticed if she swore. And so she did, frequently.
"Damn, damn, damn." Charlotte laughed and sat up from her bed at the bottom of the boat. The sun was starting to get frightfully hot, even for her, and she would have to find a shady spot to rest in for a time. Charlotte lay back down, adjusting her shawl so it covered her forehead, before resuming her reverie.
It had been a marvellous summer, one of the most beautiful of her memory. Long, lazy days in the fields or forest; rampaging through the woods on Bombardier; croquet on the south lawn with her sisters. Her time at Hansley was as it always had been; a dream. Her metamorphosis into the hellion Lottie had been swift and immensely satisfying. Within hours of their arrival she had torn off her bonnet and had let her hair flow down with wild abandon, finally freed from its restrictive bindings. Two days after their arrival her father George had remarked that it appeared she had forgotten how to eat with polite society.
Now a month had passed, a sublime month of endless sun and books and sports, Charlotte had to begin to prepare herself for her re-incarceration within her societal persona. This was likely to be one of the last days of truly hot weather they would have for the rest of the year, and Charlotte wanted to enjoy every minute of it.
Lifting her arm, Charlotte let it drape over the side of the boat, trailing her fingers in the pristine waters of the river. The water was cold, but felt clean and crisp, like fresh white linen. All around her the cries of the wild birds echoed in the shadowy depths of the forest, as the summer sun broke through the surrounding boughs, joyously tinting the day with a golden hue. The water, the birds, the trees, all combined left Charlotte feeling dazed and sleepy, sun-drunk. Slowly she dozed off, the bird calls and murmuring river a gentle lullaby.
--
"Much better, right Lucky Cat?" Alec said as he stretched out in the grass by the cottage. He had lasted two weeks in London before politely taking his leave, and accepting the offer of a cottage in Derbyshire from an old family friend.
London left him feeling strangled, choking constantly on the bitter air, crowds and noises. Charles and Lucky had been his only refuge from the insanity outside his door. It felt like everywhere he went, every step he took, somebody was there. Strangers constantly around, begging, yelling, screaming, fighting. He had had enough of the crowds and noise, and needed the solitude of the country and the infinite privacy which it afforded. It was purely serendipitous then, to run into Sir Edward Barkley at his club one day. Sir Edward had been his father's closest friend; it was Sir Edward who had written Alec of his father's death while Alec was in India.
He was an imposing figure; hawk nosed, cold blue eyes, thin lips. Yet he was a welcoming man, always friendly, always helpful. His thin frame and hawkish visage belied his kind heart and large appetite, the combination of which made him one of the most respected hosts. Within days of meeting Sir Edward, Alec had dined with him 3 times and had attended the theatre with him 4 times. Sir Edward was a gracious host, and tried his best to involve Alec within his social circle, but he was also observant, and quickly noticed that Alec was not happy in London.
One day, after Alec had been in London a week, Sir Edward invited him to a luncheon at his place on Grosvenor Street.
"You're not happy, are you m'boy?" Sir Edward said, as he spooned up a mouthful of creamy mushroom soup. Alec tried to deny it, hoping not to offend his kind benefactor.
"No, no, don't deny it. It won't do any good; I can tell you're not happy, that's as plain as day. It's London, isn't it? It's a hard town, and after your travels, I'm not surprised you find it unpleasant. You're like that damned ridiculous cat of yours, what's its name, Lucky. Every time I go to that ludicrous excuse of a flat of yours, the poor thing is climbing up the walls, trying to get out. I say climbing figuratively, of course, as the thing can barely walk."
"She's actually a wonderful climber, Edward." Alec said with a wry grin, remembering many days with the gingery cat reclined on his shoulders.
"That's besides the point, Alec, and you know it. You're not happy in London. So why don't you leave? Get out of the city, everybody else is for the summer. Go out, go hunting, or whatever you young folk get up to nowadays." Sir Edward gave a short laugh as he started eating his third bread roll. "I don't even understand why you're staying in that shit-hole, excuse me, - 'bachelor flat'. You've got the money to find a better place, a little cottage, maybe? Very picturesque." Alec smiled politely, but remained silent.
"You haven't spent all your money, boy, have you?" Sir Edward said suddenly, his voice taking on a hint of solemnity. "That was a lot of money you inherited, I didn't think you were the sort to lose it to gambling and whoring."
"And I'm not. I've still got all of it, but I just, I haven't wanted to spend it. It seems wrong to touch it." Alec stared Sir Edward down, daring him to question his honesty.
"I believe you. You were always a good boy, when you were younger. Never so much as a curse or a fight that I heard about."
"Maybe I was just a very secretive boy, good at hiding the scrapes I did get into?" Alec said, laughing. Sir Edward joined him with a hearty roar of laughter.
"Just like your father, then. The two of us were always getting into scrapes, but you'd never know it. I remember one time..." The rest of the afternoon was wiled away with stories of the adventures of the young Edward and William. By the end of the day, Alec had laughed so much he felt he couldn't speak anymore.
Finally, as Alec was leaving, Sir Edward made the offer which had been on his mind for days.
"Listen, Alec. I've got a country estate in Derbyshire, Bellwoods Park, which you're welcome to stay at. But I have a feeling you'd prefer the little cottage which is on its land. It's far enough from the house that you won't be bothered, but close enough that you're always welcome for dinner. Why don't you move out there for a while, enjoy some solitude. Derbyshire is beautiful country."
"That's very kind of you to offer Edward, but I would insist on paying rent." Alec said, touched by the older gentleman's kind offer.
"Well that's good then, as I'd insist on collecting it." Sir Edward said with a laugh as he clapped a large hand on Alec's back.
That night, as Alec lay in his dark flat with Lucky Cat curled in bed next to him, all he could think about was freedom. Outside, the garish noises of London threatened to envelop him, seeming to beat at his windows to be let in. The thought of a little country cabin felt like heaven. Just for a month or two, just until he felt safe again, until other people didn't seem like ghouls, until the nightmares of clawing hands stopped.
Everything had fallen into place quite quickly after that; he had moved out of London by the end of that week, and had been at the little cottage for two weeks now.
It was paradise. The silence, the privacy, the beauty, all of it combined left Alec feeling rested, relaxed, safe. The nightmares of skeletal hands clutching at him in the dark had disappeared, the feeling of constantly choking was gone. He felt utterly content, pacified.
The same could be said of Lucky. While they were in London, she had spent most of her time hiding in corners, under dressers or in closets. She would come out only to be fed, or when Alec was in bed. Then she would curl up to him as closely as she possibly could, trembling in fear. Now she lay near him in the grass, eyes small half moons as she dozed peaceably in the sun. Every once in a while she would leap up, and chase after some unknown sound that was privy only to the ears of cats, before returning sedately to the sun, cleaning herself placidly and then dozing off to sleep again.
His days at the cottage had taken on a quiet rhythm. Mornings were early, when the first grey light of dawn roused him gently from peaceful sleep. Quiet walks through the surrounding country - a streak of orange appearing at his side now and then, or sitting atop a rock in the distance, was his only company - and occasional walks into town to get provisions generally made up his mornings. In the afternoon he would fish by the river, or hunt with Sir Edward, or simply laze about in the sun, reading a book. There was an unwritten invitation to dine at the main house, but it was never enforced. Nor was Sir Edward a frequent visitor; unless expressly invited, he kept a polite distance for which Alec was immensely grateful.
It felt good to be alone.
This afternoon he chose the sun, and Keats, as his company as he contemplated the day. He knew he was invited to dinner that evening at the great house, but he couldn't make up his mind as to whether he wanted to catch himself a rabbit and eat in peaceful solitude, or see if he could tolerate the company of some of the guests at Sir Edward's estate that week. Sir Edward always had somebody there, but it was hard to determine whether their company would be pleasant or not. Alec thought carefully before deciding that he was becoming far too sedentary while at the cottage.
"Rabbit it is." Alec said, before putting aside Keats and preparing to catch his supper.
--
Charlotte awoke abruptly. Where was she? Why was she moving? Slowly she remembered; Hansley Court, river, boat. With a sigh she smiled and curled up to go back to sleep, before sitting up with a jolt.
"Dear God, how long have I been asleep?" She looked up at the sky; the sun had moved across the sky and if she guessed she had been asleep for at least 2 hours. Deeply asleep in the sun.
Charlotte felt her cheeks; they were burning hot. Glancing down at her arms, she noticed that they had turned a bright shade of red.
"Oh, damn." She whispered to herself; this was going to be very bad. "Mama is going to kill me. She is going to kill me extra dead."
The boat was close to a shady little lake that Charlotte knew was on their property. Carefully she maneuvered her craft to shore, pulling it up and hiding it behind some trees. The day had started out so perfectly; a comfortable nest at the bottom of the boat, Burney's Evelina to read, some apples purloined from the kitchen larder. It had all seemed so perfect, but Charlotte supposed it had been too perfect.
The perfect recipe for a long, comfortable nap in the blazing sun.
'Well I've learned my lesson now.' She muttered to herself as she felt the skin on her arms tighten in pain from the sunburn.
"Damnnnn." She said, no longer able to revel in the pleasure of the swear, but drawing it out until it was more of a keening wail than a word. Scrambling through the forest, she made her way to the little lake. It lay only a few minutes walk from the river's edge, and was well surrounded by trees. Charlotte's family wasn't one for manufactured landscapes, and so this lake kept its original oblong shape, and the large trees and forest which surrounded it. As she approached, Charlotte disturbed a family of grouse, which scattered off into the woods with whoops and shrills. Aside from the birds, her footsteps were the only sounds she heard.
The little lake appeared suddenly, and Charlotte almost fell into its clear waters. All around it the trees grew tall and close, a natural partition from the outside world. There were a few patches of grass by its banks, and on one side there was a large rock which acted as the diving platform for Charlotte and her sisters when they were younger. The lake was deep enough that, if you jumped from the rock, you could easily dive under the water. At the moment, however, its waters were peacefully still, reflecting the leaves of the trees overhead and the sun and sky like a giant mirror.
Kneeling down on its shore, Charlotte peered into the reflective surface. Her face wasn't as burnt as she thought; she must have covered it with her shawl at some point. Her cheeks seemed to be glowing red, but surely some considered that becoming. It was her arms that worried Charlotte; they were as pink as a cherry blossom. Cupping her hands, she splashed some of the cool water on herself; it felt like a dream, so cold and pure.
Charlotte stood and looked around her for a moment. She knew they were on her family's property, and thus it was unlikely she would be caught... Feeling her burning arms again, Charlotte made up her mind. With a reckless grin she kicked off her boots. Her dress followed, crumpling like a flower at her feet. Taking one more furtive glance around, Charlotte stripped off her stays and stockings. She stood in the grass in her chemise, before she stripped that off, too. Clambering nakedly onto the rock, Charlotte half dove, half fell into the lake. She resurfaced with a gasp and a yelp, but the sensation of icy water against burning skin was heavenly.
Charlotte floated peacefully on her back, staring up at the canopy of trees which spiraled up to the blue sky above her. Tonight was the dinner at the country estate of Lord Grimsby. Charlotte was loath to go, but she knew that it was expected of her. Oh what fun little barbs were going to be sent her way from Lady Grimsby, and what smirks and sneers from Lord Grimsby, all likely directed towards her burnt arms and face.
Sighing, Charlotte floated around the pond on her back, stealing a few moments of solitude before the inevitable uproar upon her arrival at home.
--
Alec walked carefully through the woods, watching each step, ensuring he didn't create too much noise. The forest was alive around him, and he could sense movement in the distance. Occasionally Lucky Cat would appear at his side, as if by magic, before melting seamlessly into the underbrush. Alec heard the startled whoops of birds ahead of him, and chose to move in that direction. If he couldn't catch a rabbit a game bird would do quite nicely.
"Where's Charles when you need him, eh Lucky?" Alec whispered to the cat figure at his side. He turned, but she had already disappeared.
"You're making me look like a lunatic, cat." Alec muttered, as he crept between the trees. He looked around for Lucky, trying to discern the bright orange tabby somewhere in the surrounding woods. He heard the muffled sounds of running water ahead of him and hurried towards it.
Alec stumbled, and almost fell, into a lazily flowing river. It's bright waters gurgled happily with the current, occasionally splashing up against the rocks by the banks, and the deliciously fresh smell raised a sudden urge in Alec's chest to strip down and jump in.
That thought was interrupted by a long, wavering meow.
Alec looked down river a little and caught sight of Lucky Cat, standing somewhat forlornly on a rock in the middle of the river, already soaking wet. When she caught sight of Alec, she let out another long warbling meow, followed by a series of short, pathetic mews. Alec sighed, she had clearly thought she could jump to the rock, and then to the other side of the shore.
"I'll save you, Lucky Cat. Again." He muttered the last under his breath. With another hearty sigh he pulled off his boots and began rolling up his trousers. Looking at the water, he realized it was probably going to be too deep, and that even with his trousers rolled up, he was going to get soaking wet.
"Sometimes I wonder, Cat." He gasped as he put his first foot into the water. While it was refreshing, it was also achingly cold. He groaned as he strode deeper into the chilly waters.
"Sometimes I wonder if you put yourself into these positions intentionally." He said as he walked, waist deep, into the middle of the river. The current wasn't too strong, so he felt in no danger for his life, but it was so damnably cold, especially after the warm waters of India. Alec finally arrived at her rock and couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the bedraggled cat. She quickly tore up his arms and perched on his shoulders, sending rivulets of cold water down his neck.
"Your carriage, madam." He laughed, as he began to walk back to shore. The embankment from his side of the river was much steeper downstream, and Alec wondered if he could manage to clamber up its smooth sides. He tried wading upstream, but the current, which had seemed so gentle and sweet on the way downstream, now seemed entirely too strong to make his way back up.
"Damn." Alec muttered to himself. He'd have to cross the river and walk until he reached another crossing point. Alec placed Lucky Cat on the grass on the left bank first, before crossing and sitting on the opposite shore. He watched her as she began to compulsively clean her body, before stretching out in the sun. With a groan, Alec began to walk onwards, hoping to find an easier passage.
This was not how he had planned to spend his afternoon. He was soaking wet, and all he wanted to do was join Lucky in the sun on his side of the river. He'd have to meet Sir Edward for dinner today, as there was no chance of his catching anything with enough time for it to be prepared into a meal.
As Alec trudged along the grassy banks, he thought he heard a splash from somewhere nearby. He looked back to see if Lucky had somehow managed to fall back in the river, but she was still placidly cleaning herself on its banks. Looking around him, Alec thought he could just make out a clearing in the woods to the right of him, and he paused to consider his options. He could cross back to his side of the river, and go home to prepare for dinner, or he could investigate.
Curiosity won for the second time that day, and Alec began to make his way into the woods, towards the mysterious clearing. He thought he could just make out the sound of gentle splashing, and he thought a sigh, but it could have been the trees, whispering above him. Feet used to the steady roll of a ship's deck found easy purchase along the forest floor, and Alec found he could move quietly without much effort. Why he had to move quietly, he didn't know. A sudden feeling of intense significance overcame him, and he found he had to walk quietly, to make no sound. He felt that if he was loud, he would frighten away whatever lay in the clearing. A part of him knew it was likely just another rabbit, or grouse, or maybe even a deer, but still Alec could not shake the feeling that he had to be quiet and careful.
Slowly he came within view of the clearing, only to find it wasn't a clearing at all, but a pond. He walked towards it, his previous sense of expectation suddenly evaporating as he laughed quietly to himself. Taking a final step forward, he emerged into a patch of grass by the pond. He toyed with the idea of taking a quick dip in its waters, but a sudden movement from across the water caught his eye.
He was not alone.
There, beginning to rise out of the water on the opposite bank, in the middle of a forest in Derbyshire, was a naked woman.
A supremely beautiful, naked woman.
Alec could only stare. It had been a long time, longer than he cared to admit, since he had seen a woman's body like this. She had her back towards him, and she walked slowly, torturously slowly, out of the water. She began to make her way towards the shore, and inch by inch her naked back was revealed to Alec's hungry eyes. First tanned shoulders, rising out of the depths, water running down her arms as they too rose out of the pond, as she pulled her hair together and draped it over one shoulder. Then, her back, water rolling sensuously down the fine indentation of her spine, before gliding slowly, tantalizingly, over the curve of her behind.
She had emerged fully now, and stood for a moment on the opposite shore, her back still to him. Then, before Alec could fully comprehend her actions, she bent over slightly, squeezing the water out of her long coil of hair.
Alec couldn't help a little gasp escaping his traitorous mouth. This was wrong, he knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be hiding in the woods like a thief, a voyeur and a hundred other names he could berate himself with later. But something about her body, about the way she moved, captured him. He was engrossed and felt rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable even to blink. Alec felt as if all the world had disappeared for a moment, even he had disappeared, and he was watching this from another place, completely alone.
And then she turned around.
A gasp escaped her lips as she caught sight of him standing on the far edge of the water, and Alec waited, unable to look away, for her inevitable shriek.
--
As Charlotte emerged from the waters, refreshed and relaxed, she had the uncanny sensation that somebody was watching her. She felt so delightfully clean, and she couldn't help but smile over her good fortune in remembering the pond. Carefully, Charlotte gathered her hair together and pulled it over her right shoulder, as she languidly exited from the water. She stood for a moment on the grassy shore, feeling again as if eyes were watching her. But that was ridiculous, as it was Hansley, and everybody knew where their property began, and everybody knew that it was private.
Nobody could be watching her.
Charlotte bent over slightly, pulling her hair between her hands and twisting it to release a stream of water.
She unbent carefully. Had that been a gasp?
Charlotte turned around suddenly and let out a sharp gasp of her own. Standing on the other side of the pond was a man. He stood with one hand grasping the tree branch behind him, as if pulling him away. But the other hand held firm on the rock in front of him, keeping him in place. He had the body of an athlete, Charlotte could tell, with strong shoulders which seemed to strain at the seams of his plain cotton shirt. His breeches were rolled up to his knees, but it seemed, strangely enough, as if he was wet from the waist down.
But it was his eyes that kept Charlotte enthralled. He looked at her as if he wanted to devour her, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing, yet couldn't stop himself from staring. There was surprise, in those big dark eyes: surprise and desire.
The two figures stood on opposite sides of the pond, unable to move, unable to speak. Charlotte didn't scream, she couldn't, and she found she didn't want to. She just stared back, unable to look away.
He continued to stare, a statue study of desire.
She returned his looks, unafraid. His eyes worshiped every inch of her flesh, and Charlotte felt revered, rather than disgusted, by his unrelenting appraisal. Moments passed, which could have been seconds, or hours. Neither could move, neither could speak. Charlotte wasn't even sure if she was breathing.
They stood, silently, each watching the other. Overhead the forest birds cried incessantly, shrieks and whoops, calling to each other through the canopy. The sunlight filtered down and played across the water, riding the ripples of its recently disturbed surface.
Then, interrupting the sounds of the woodland, a decidedly human shout.
"Captain Winters! Captain Winters, are you there?" It came from the direction of the river, but was muted by the trees and the forest. Charlotte turned her head to look in the distance, to see if there was anyone else.
When she turned back, he was gone.