“What kind of story does her ladyship want to hear?”
“Tell me about your childhood. Once upon a time there was a little boy called Henry...”
An involuntary laugh escaped him. Then he told her. Growing up with his brother, how they scampered through the countryside. How they used to go fishing together. How they built a treehouse. How they discovered a cave and pretended to be cavemen for an entire summer. It was semi-dark, with only the orange flicker of the fire in the background.
“And your brother now? Where is he now?”
He was silent.
“Oh no. He—died?”
“Yes.”
“I’m so sorry.” Lucy’s voice was thick.
“I am, too.”
“What was his name?”
“David.”
“I wish I'd had a brother like David. Even if just for a brief time. Even if it were to mean to have to lose him, eventually.”
Her little warm hand crept into his and held on tightly. They were silent for a while.
“You don't have any brothers and sisters?” His voice sounded gruff.
Lucy sighed. “No. It was always my biggest wish to have one. An older brother would have been wonderful to have in one's life. So much in my life would have happened differently, maybe.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I suppose—I wouldn't have been so lonely. I lost both my parents early. Having had a sibling would have made a difference.”
Henry agreed.
“But let’s not talk about me. Tell me what you like best about gardening.”
“I enjoy making my hands dirty.” He lifted his free hand, inspecting the dirt under his fingernails. “I enjoy digging deep into the earth and feeling mud between my fingers. It's like taking part in creation. Planting a seed and seeing it blossom into a flower. I like the peace of it. Plants are better companions than humans sometimes.”
“That sounds bitter.” She didn’t let go of his hand. “You must love Ashmore Hall very much.”
“Certainly.”
“That didn’t sound too enthusiastic. Let me put this differently. You must love living this life of yours, surrounded by nature every day. Surrounded by—freedom. Yes. Freedom.” He barked a laugh. “Oh no, I definitely sense bitterness in that laugh. Pray explain, Henry Gardener. And I want the truth.”
“The truth, Lucy Bell? The truth is that I'm a slave to these grounds. My entire life has been predetermined by others. I’ve been forced to follow in my father’s footsteps. My grandfather, my great-grandfather. I’ve had no choice in my occupation. Of all the choices, possibilities that life offers, always this one thing. Freedom? What freedom?”
“But you said you liked gardening.”
“I do. It is a blessing that I do.”
“If you'd had the choice, what would you have chosen?”
“I would have been a sailor, maybe. Travel across the seven seas and explore the world.”
“Oh yes, that would be quite the adventure. But instead of the land, you'd be tied to the sea? You'd be a slave there, too.”
“Maybe, but I would have chosen my fate. True freedom is one of choice. You are a lady. You know nothing of a life tied to the land. Of the toil and strife it entails. The sacrifice it requires. I see you disagree. Why do you shake your head?”
