…
The next few days passed in the same manner. Niall would rise early and make his way into the woods to forage for game and edible berries. The woods in the forest were wet and would create more smoke than heat, and he worried that the small pile in the groundskeeper cottage would soon run out. He would painstakingly draw water from the well each morning to last them for the day and so she could keep herself clean. Niall had never been this clean, he too taking a bath every day instead of the once weekly he’d been used to.
Ophelia had also insisted on teaching him to read, and how he had blushed like a fool when she had praised him for learning his letters in half a day. Today they were learning to dance. It still astonished him that these were the things rich young girls did. Read and paint and dance, all in preparation to marry someone. Niall wasn’t sure what those things had to do with a marriage, but Ophelia said her governess insisted they were most important.
And if they were important to her, he had to understand them, even learn to do them as well. That way they would be important to him as well. His da said it was important in a marriage that his wife was always happy, even if that meant he had to be wrong sometimes. Niall repeated that over and over as he went through the hateful dance steps, ignoring the throbbing pain in his leg that was now swollen.
“I’ve only just started learning,” she said, her face adorable in a concentrated scrunch. “Mr. Bloomfield, my dance tutor, says that the minuet is a very elegant but a bit complicated dance. You are very smart, Niall; I am sure you’ll understand it very quickly.”
Almost an hour later, they were laughing like loons at all the mishaps they’d encountered.
“I have something for you,” she whispered shyly.
Surprise lanced Niall. “Wot is it?”
She held out something crooked. Vines and flowers twisted together. It made nothing, really, but something fierce and wonderful filled his chest.
“It is my token for you. Perhaps it could also be a ring.”
Niall swallowed. So that was what she was doing earlier in the woods.
A heavy press of an unknown sensation lodged in his gut. It certainly felt bigger than what his little body could contain. “I will treasure this always.”
Fifi lifted up her hand to show his ring of vine and flowers on one of her fingers. Surely it must itch and prick her skin, but she had still worn it.
“Just as I will treasure your ring, Niall,” she murmured with a shy smile.
The door opened, and they whirled around. A large man came to a shuddering halt upon seeing two children in his home.
Niall positioned himself protectively in front of Ophelia and lifted his chin. She pinched his arm, but he did not move. When she tried to skirt around him, he shuffled with her movements so that he was always in front of her. He grunted in surprise when she jumped onto his back. But he did not push her away, merely slipped his hands behind her knees and hoisted her up so she could hold on to his neck.
The man gaped as if he’d witnessed a circus act.
“Are you little Lady Ophelia, by any chance?”
She gasped and nodded eagerly. Niall narrowed his gaze on the man. “And who are ye?”
The man smiled disarmingly, removed his hat, and slapped it against his thigh. “I’m the groundskeeper of the nearby estate of Viscount Henry Rodrick. There is a large uproar in the area, and everyone is searching for the little lady.”
“Even my papa?”
“And your mama,” he said kindly. “They are guests at Viscount Roderick’s home, and many have gathered, searching the forest for you.”
She squeezed his neck tightly. “We are saved, Niall.”
The groundskeeper did not look at him with warmth but with suspicion.
“Come on down now,” Niall murmured.
Ophelia hopped down and skipped over to the chair to collect her bag and stuff her book inside. She paused, lovingly caressing her fingers over the worn leather. Turning to him, she held it out.
His throat closed. Niall knew how much she loved that book. “I cannot take it.”
She hurried over to him, her matted hair curling atop her sweetly rounded cheeks. “Please. You are my best friend, and I so very much want you to have it and read every story compiled in it. We shall have great fun talking about it, I promise.”
The man cleared his throat, tugging their attention.
“Come along now. We must get going before the rains.”
The groundskeeper led them to a horse and took Ophelia up with him. She didn’t appear happy about that and tried to wiggle down to walk with Niall. Finally the man grumbled and somehow seated them both haphazardly onto the animal before they set off.
At times they came down and walked, and it felt like forever before they cleared a copse of trees to see a large house in the distance.
“Is my papa inside there?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
“Yes, little miss, he is.”
She nodded and smiled down at Niall where he trotted tiredly beside the horse. After a time, she determinedly wiggled until she came down, slipped her hand between his, and they walked together. The groundskeeper protested, but she ignored him.
They reached the manor house, which bustled with frenetic activity. She must have been recognized, for two lady servants rushed inside, calling someone. A well-dressed lady and gentleman hurried outside, and when they saw Ophelia, the lady wilted against the man.
“That is my mama and papa,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers.
As if she could not wait anymore, the lady broke away from the man and rushed over to them. The beautiful woman lowered her knees onto the ground, uncaring that she damaged her fine dress. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she held out her arms. Ophelia seemed hesitant at first, as if she did not know what to make of this show of affection and relief.
She glanced up at Niall, and it was then he noted her eyes also swam with tears. Letting him go, she flung herself at the lady, and they embraced fiercely. He could not separate the woman’s sobs from Ophelia’s.
“You are home,” the lady said. “How I worried—we all worried…I’ve missed you dreadfully, Ophelia! Thank heavens you are home and safe!”
Niall stood there, looking around to see if he saw his ma or da. He gathered they were not here or had ever been with this search party. The lady parted from Fifi and looked at him. The large and handsome gentleman helped her to stand, and she smiled warmly at him.
“And who is this young man?” the lady asked.
Ophelia turned around and smiled her prettiest smile yet.
“This is Niall, Mama. He jumped into the river and saved me.”