Page 71
On two of those eleven days, Laurence accompanied her beyond the gardens and into the ancient woodland that bordered the estate.
The forest seemed untouched by the anxieties gripping the rest of the world. Great oaks and silver birches arched high overhead, their branches weaving together until the sunlight reached the woodland floor only in scattered ribbons of gold.
Looking back, Eliza remembered one of Laurence's questions. "What is it about dancing you enjoy so much, Your Grace?"
She smiled to herself. It was not the question she had expected, and it drew her gently back into the memory.
"I suppose I feel free." she began thoughtfully, watching a squirrel dart effortlessly up the trunk of a nearby oak,
She hesitated before continuing. "It reminds me of my mother."
The admission came more quietly than she intended.
"I knew her only for the first few years of my life. Most of my memories have faded now, but the ones that remain, the ones I refuse to lose, are the two of us dancing together. I cannot remember what music was playing, nor even where we were, only that she laughed whilst she spun me around the room," she said.
She lowered her gaze to the path beneath her feet.
"So when I dance, I feel close to her again."
Laurence remained silent, allowing her the space to continue.
"And," she added with considerably more brightness, "I rather suspect Arthur and I shall be expected to dance one day again, and I should hate to tread upon his feet quite so enthusiastically as I did at our wedding ball."
A snort escaped Laurence before he could suppress it. She turned towards him with raised eyebrows.
"You disagree?"
"I merely think that Buck would sooner impale himself upon his own sword—twice over—than willingly attend another ball," said Laurence.
She laughed. "Has he always been so...serious?"
"Always," Laurence answered without hesitation.
There was no teasing in his voice now.
"Even as a boy?" Eliza asked.
"He was quieter then, perhaps a little easier to coax into mischief, though only after an extraordinary amount of persuasion." Laurence smiled at the memory.
"Arthur has always carried the weight of the world as though it were his responsibility alone. He has never known how to do anything by halves."
They walked a little further in comfortable silence, leaves crunching softly beneath their boots. By the time they reached the deeper trees, Eliza found herself speaking more freely than she had intended.
"How do I get him to let me in?" she asked.
Laurence slowed his pace.
She kept her eyes fixed upon the path ahead.
"I feel as though every day I discover another piece of him, and then the door closes again before I can step through it," said Eliza.
Laurence considered the question for some time before answering.
"Keep doing exactly what you're doing."
She glanced sideways at him.
"Buck values persistence above almost everything else. Confidence too. Loyalty most of all."
