REMEMBRANCE (2 page)

            “My, my, Tom, your sense of humour does you credit. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were deliberately avoiding revealing the real reason for asking me to come here.”

            Thomas shook his head; as much as he tried, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

            “So, I take it that the delightful Miss Cartland is still in possession of her innocence. You must be slipping, Tom!” Dudley teased, “Or is the fact that you’ve been caught in a compromising position with her the reason for calling me here?”

            “Dudley, I wish that you would be serious for one minute.” Thomas laughed as he took his seat behind the desk. “You know that I only returned yesterday, which hardly gave me time to place myself in an unwelcome position with any young lady.”

            “Yes, yes. Still, I believe that I was right to begin with; you are definitely slipping.”

            “Be serious.”

            “Me!” Dudley feigned a hurt expression, “I am nothing but serous when it comes to beautiful women.”

            Thomas smiled, knowing that Dudley would, of course, always think with the contents of his britches rather than his head, having just experienced his match making with certain ladies of an unsavoury kind these last weeks. Thomas, though having found many of Dudley’s choices very attractive, chose not to indulge with women that preferred booze to bathing and had small unwanted creatures gracing their hair and private parts.

“Mmm, you are right; I would never have considered you any other way.”

            “So tell me then, what is it?” Dudley leaned forward curiously.

            On that cue, Thomas pushed the invitation card towards him. Dudley automatically leaned closer and scanned the writing. Having read the content of the note, he sat back and raised the glass to his lips.

“Ah!”

“Ah!” Thomas echoed.

Dudley looked up, very serious all of a sudden, “This is unexpected.”

“Mmm.”

“I take it that it’s the same Miss Austin that you have repeatedly spoken of over the last six years?”

“The very one.”

“Ah!”

They sat in silence for a while, both content to savour the flavour of their drinks; both lost in their own thoughts.

“I take it that you will be going?” Dudley spoke first.

“Yes.”

“Mmm, I thought so.”

Silence ensued as both men considered the implications of such action.

“What is it you expect from meeting her again after all this time?” Dudley was the first to speak.

Thomas considered this question, which occupied his mind ever since he saw the invitation. What was it that he expected? The opening of old wounds, anger, resentment, love at first sight?

“I have no expectations. I shall go, as requested, as my mother wouldn’t have it any other way.” The lie didn’t sit well with him and he could tell by Dudley’s broad grin that he didn’t believe a word of it.

“Six years is a long time Tom, people change.”

“I know.”

Dudley leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees, “She was about fourteen the last time you saw each other?”

Thomas nodded.

“My God, man, she could be as ugly as they come, changed beyond all recognition from that girl you knew.”

Silence filled the air again.

Dudley seemed incapable to keep his opinions to himself, for he continued, “You might find that she has changed so much and you would realise that what you held on for the past six years was only a childish fantasy of a young hormonally charged boy that—and I don’t mean this unkindly—had imagined being in love with her.”

Thomas didn’t raise his head. Instead, he just sat, brooding over the reasons for him being sent the invitation.

“But you’re still going to go, right?”

Thomas raised his head finally, as the smile crinkling his face lit up the blue of his eyes, “Yes.”

Dudley thought for a few seconds, “It’s tomorrow night…” he paused, “There is always the option of not going. I mean, why risk ruining a beautiful memory? There is always a chance that the lady in question will not live up to you expectations.”

“I had thought of that, but my mother—and you know how my mother can be—has probably been plotting this small but elaborate get together with Sir John for weeks, and it is just unfortunate that she is unable to attend the function herself, having come down with a head cold. She will be expecting me to attend to uphold the Bradley standing in society; it is what’s expected of the Lord of Nedgely after all.”

“Mmm.”

“And besides, who else but her own son would give her the exact run down of the evening’s events? She is confident that only I will tell it as I see it.”

“Then, I suppose, I am to accompany you, just in case the ugly duckling still has her childish fantasy intact and wishes to pursue her interest?”

“I will understand if you have alternative arrangements,” Thomas said guiltily, having decided that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have dragged his friend here under such stupid circumstances.

“No, no, not at all! I think that I am rather looking forward to finally meeting the young lady you fantasised about for so long.”

“Maybe you should go back to London, Dudley. I feel terrible for cutting your stay there short.” Thomas stood, frustration now edging his words. Maybe it would be best if he didn’t attend the ball, no one would miss him. His mother, on the other hand, would have a lot to say about it and Dudley would rib him constantly regarding the mysterious Miss Austin. Still, what could they say that he hadn’t told himself a hundred times since receiving the invitation? “Maybe I won’t go after all.” Yet another lie.

Dudley smiled to himself, thinking that, if Tom could see his own face now, he would have been shocked to note so much anguish, such a dilemma.

“As you wish,” Dudley said trying to hide the humour in the whole situation.

Shropshire, England, Present Day

They stood beneath the shelter of the old oak tree, wet through. Their laughter echoed through the still air. The heavy rain had put an end to their childish game of throwing stones across the glass-like surface of the Crystal Pool.

“I do believe mine went furthest,” Maria announced excitedly.

“And I believe that you cheated,” her companion accused her.

“I do not know how you can say such a thing,” she teased. “I thus declare you a bad loser.” Noting the way he raised an eyebrow sceptically at her denial, she posed seductively to distract him and schooled her face to that of pure innocence.

“If you had not chosen my stone, I would not have been at a disadvantage,” he continued shakily.

“Come now, admit it. I won!” Her face was full of mischief.

Her heart had began to beat wildly as they stood close together under the large branches, which gave little protection from the water that escaped the darkening clouds. She could tell that he knew the conflict was already lost; had she not always been the one that would have to win at everything? She stifled a giggle at the sight of the torment on his face.

Suddenly, she noticed the way his gaze wandered slowly over her, taking in the way the thin cotton material of her summer dress enhanced the contours of her young body, and how the water dripped from her hair onto her neck. A faint blush highlighted her cheeks, making her unease under his close scrutiny all too apparent.

“Uncle John is probably wondering where we are; he will not be at all happy,” she spoke nervously, as she shook her natural curls.

He stood before her with a smile of admiration on his face.

“Ahh, that he will. Still, I fear that Sir John is quite used to our wild ways and will not worry unduly, Miss Austin.”

She halted and looked at him, defiantly.

“How many times, have I told you to call me M when we are not in company?”

“Well let me think, it must be one hundred at least. And how many times, Miss Austin, have I told you that I am simply Tom when we are not in company?” he teased, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Ooh, now let me think…” Impulsively he reached out and started to tickle her and she buckled at the waist as uncontrollable giggles escaped her lips. “Stop it, stop it!” she begged as he kept on tickling. “Tom, please, I beg you.”

“Ahh, submission,” he shouted triumphantly.

“You are a wicked boy; you tricked me.”

“Of course, but I got what I set out to do.”

“Oh yes, and what was that, pray?”

“I got you to say my name.”

“Oh you,” she spoke as she returned the tickle without mercy.

“M… I’m sorry,” he said, clutching at his chest that now hurt from laughing.

She stood with her hands resting on her slim hips and flicked her damp hair so that it fell in loose ringlets down her back. She watched him regain his composure, admiring his broad shoulders as the muscles rippled beneath his wet shirt. His ruffled blond hair was cut short in a way every young man of the day found fashionable, and his handsome face was dominated by the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She noticed the way they were drawn to her face and saw something within their depths that she had never seen before. Feeling a little nervous at the unusual sensations that flooded her body, she swung herself sideways, trying to hide the excitement her face conveyed.

“Pray, will this rain never stop? How are we to watch our sunset if the cloud does not clear?” she sighed with disappointment, as she felt him move a little closer.

“I believe that it is set in for some time. I am afraid that we are stuck here for a little longer yet! As for our sunset, there will be others, my dear M.”

She heard the change in his voice and impulsively turned to him. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her cheeks.

His gaze never left her face, as his smile faded away, replaced by a more serious expression. She felt the blood in her veins surge through her body, as he slowly lowered his head to hers
.

Maria’s eyes shot open and she pressed a finger to her lips with a frown, as the dream lingered. It had felt as real to her as the bed she lay in. Snuggling back against the pillow with a sigh, she tried to remember the details of her dream, but the images were already fading.

She had only been back a few days and already her sleep was plagued with unusual dreams. She recalled the one she had only a few nights ago. The dream was about her mother, and was so vivid, even thought she had died a year ago.

It had to be the change of circumstances; after all, it was almost six years since she was last here as a young girl of fourteen. Whitmore had been her home, the place where she had grown up. Her memory was a little foggy, and she still did not really know why her mother and she had left so abruptly. All ties had been cut with her grandmother up until a couple of days ago, when Maria had taken the bull by the horns and turned up on her doorstep. It had taken great courage to take that step—courage that she had felt she lacked since leaving. It’s not as if she had given up anything to come back, she mused. Having gained a degree in fine arts and already having experience as a substitute teacher in her chosen subject, she was confident that she could find a tutoring position anywhere.

She sighed and snuggled deeper beneath the bed covers. The dream in which her mother appeared still unsettled her, though.

In that dream, the two of them had been standing in a small, shadow-lit room accompanied by an elderly gentleman. Thinking now, it may have been some sort of an office. It smelt of musty books and was furnished in dusty dark wood furniture. Along its walls sat rows of shelves that housed piles of papers and old photographs. She remembered an old clock, recalling how it seemed to balance precariously on the end of the fire mantle, it’s over exaggerated ticking sound still echoing hypnotically in her head.

 It seemed as real to her as if it had actually happened, but she knew that it couldn’t, for she had no memories of a similar event happening.

Frustrated, she flung the covers back and winced at the sharp pain in her thighs. Being stuck for four hours on the hard worn seat of a train and having no real form of exercise during the past few days had taken their toll; her muscles had all but ceased up. She reprimanded herself for having been a complete fool to have traipsed all the way to Scotland on a fool’s errand, knowing that this was the cause of her current suffering and aching muscles.

Angry with herself, she stomped in to the bathroom to start her morning routine. Brushing her teeth vigorously, she caught herself sighing mid brush and paused to look at her image in the mirror. She did that a lot lately. Life had a strange way of focusing her utter frustration through a sigh. Stuck in a stuffy train compartment for instance, her long and rather embarrassing trip to Scotland, only to catch her boyfriend of seven months naked and in the throes of passion with a woman he worked with. Yes, these incidents and a few others could contribute to several of her life's most frustrating moments. The image of naked entwined limbs flashed in her mind. Hah, frustrating, that took the biscuit! More like burning rage, humiliation, utter hatred of the opposite sex and the shame of having made the journey so that she could hand him her virginity on that shiny silver platter. Well, it was just as well she had discovered his philandering ways before she had let her naivety colour her judgement and come away with a broken heart and lack of her innocence.