She wondered as she wiped the tear away whether she wanted to cry for a week because she prayed he was right, or because she didn’t want him to be.
Chapter Eighteen
Aria spent thethird day in a row talking out loud to Mrs. B. She hoped her old friend heard her. There was nothing left to do but entreat her benefactor to help her yet again. “If this was all your doing to get me to marry your grandson and have his sons, I’m sorry to disappoint you but you should have chosen a young woman who didn’t care what happened to the people she loved and left behind. Do you think I’m like Gray’s mother? Do you think I can just leave my parents in such dire straits? My brother? You chose the wrong girl. Yes, I could love Gray in different circumstances. I know I could. But you knew me, Mrs. B. I mean, I thought you did. You took me from them on my brother’s birthday.” She stopped to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. “But I forgive you. Just knowing there was a man who once lived—even if I am the only one who believes it—a man whom I could have given my heart to, is enough to help me forgive you. Just please, please bring me back before I’m completely lost to him, and I betray my family.”
It was the third day without finding the key. Maybe Mrs. B. couldn’t hear her. Maybe she was ignoring Aria’s call for help.
Aria left her room and went in search of the marquess. His presence drew her, compelling her to question others about his whereabouts. She checked the dining hall, the sitting room, and his private solar, but she couldn’t find him and no one she asked had seen him. Sarah suggested Aria go look outside, in the woods between the castle and the eastern village.
“You know a lot about him,” Aria complimented with a smile.
Sarah nodded and turned two shades darker red. “He was my first friend, that’s all. After his mother left, he went off on his own path. But I was always here cleaning his chamber. I watched him go so deep inside himself, no one could reach him. I couldn’t reach him—and I tried. Many of the girls, whether ladies or chambermaids, tried, but no one touched him. It seems though, as if you have. He’s been smiling again.”
“I’m selfish, Sarah,” Aria confessed. “I don’t want him to let anyone else touch him, but I can’t stay here. I must return home. He will be—”
“He will be broken, mayhap beyond repair,” Sarah finished for her. “Can you not see that he loves you, Aria? He makes it obvious enough by the way his face lights with joy when you walk into a room. I can scarcely believe my eyes when I see the way he smiles when he looks at you, whether you are looking at him or not. He ignores the other girls—and when it comes to the marquees, they are sometimes difficult to ignore. But he only has interest in you.”
They were words Aria would have loved hearing in any other situation but this one. Now, they felt like knives being flung at her body. “How is Will?” she asked to change the topic. She knew she made a mistake when Sarah frowned at her.
“He is a fool,” his sister sighed. “But he is resilient.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Sarah smiled at her and sent her on her way to find Gray.
She took a coat that one of the seamstresses called Aggie made for her. Aria marveled at how quickly the seamstresses worked, crafting gowns, coats, petticoats, and more in days. This coat, dyed a rich royal blue, was fashioned of lightweight wool for the warming weather. It had claret embroidery around the cuffs and hem, and claret piping around the thin hood. She wished she could take it with her when she went home.
She left the castle and followed Sarah’s directions. She entered the tree line around the castle grounds and looked around. Every inch looked the same. Every tree, almost identical to the one next to it. She called Gray’s name and listened for a reply but even the birds went silent. She walked deeper into the forest, calling out. She looked around again. She couldn’t see the castle or the village. Just trees. She was lost. For a minute, she panicked. Having grown up in New York City, she had no experience with forests. But also growing up in New York City helped her to swallow back her panic and get ahold of herself.
She looked up at the arboreal canopy trying to see the birds. Were there any up there? “Hello,” she called up. “I’m looking for Gray. The marquess. I know you know him. Can you lead me to him please?”
She waited, feeling a bit foolish for talking to the birds as if they understood her. But after another few minutes, she heard a familiar sound from above.
The croak of a raven.
The bird soared toward her just beneath the canopy. Its wings were blacker than a moonless night. Its beak and eyes, legs and feet were all just as dark. It folded its great, glossy wings just as it landed on the forest floor in front of her.
There, it simply stared at her.
“Toric. I remember your name,” she said to the animal. “I’m lost. Please lead me to Gray.”
At once, the bird unfurled its wings and took off. She was about to call out for it to wait, but she realized it was flying toward her and then away again, helping her keep pace.
She wanted to stop her brisk pace and take a minute to marvel at the fact that animals understood her. Could they all understand what she said? And not just what she said, but what every human said? She thought about the little parakeet her mother had found last summer and how her mother stopped to talk to it every time she walked past its cage. Did the parakeet understand her?
While she pondered the wonder of it all, she heard the faint hum of the wind, the soft singing of birds, the snap of dry twigs when a roe deer walked on it. Together it all took on a musical quality.
Following a bird while the forest sang around her made Aria feel a kind of freedom she hadn’t felt in years. Her shoulders didn’t feel weighed down with worries and responsibilities. She had the mad urge to skip and dance her way along the path Toric led.
And then she came upon him in a small clearing. The music of nature rang out louder. Not everyone heard the song, but it lifted the spirit of those who did. Grayson Barrington heard it. He moved to it. Alone, he danced for the sheer love of dancing and expressing himself through movement.
Breathless, Aria watched him spread his arms and toss back his head. His ebony locks swung back and then fell over his eyes when he bent forward and bowed his head. He folded his arms as gracefully as Toric had when it landed.
He saw her through eyes eclipsed by his raven hair. She knew it was coming and her heart beat frantically, thumping in her ears, adding to the music of the woods. He didn’t make her wait but smiled when he saw her—as he did every time he set eyes on her.
Did he care for her as Sarah had said?
He didn’t stop dancing but spun and twirled in perfect pirouettes and pas de basques. He leaped in graceful jetes. She marveled and felt moved to tears when he incorporated contemporary movements in his dance. His extension was impressive, creating beautiful lines. He used his breath as the force that fueled his movement. She was too busy mesmerized by his breathtaking contractions and releases, his soft falls and recoveries to notice the squirrels, foxes, pine marten, and deer all still with their eyes on him.
