A Place in This World
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CHAPTER 26
There were moments, many moments over the course of the next two weeks that Erik felt completely out of his realm. The business side of being an aristocrat came easily for him. He was adept at every complex mathematical equation and he was proficient in science and all its subsidiaries.
History was of extreme interest to him, the books he read helped him escape the cruelties triggered at him and concentrate on the cruelties of another age; an age that did not hold personal tragedies.
As for languages, Erik spoke four different languages fluently, and was studying several others; French, English, Italian and Russian were all spoken with ease and clarity; he was currently studying Japanese, Spanish and German and would soon master them as well; and he also possessed a deep knowledge of Latin, although the language was not spoken anymore.
Most other parts of being an aristocrat threw Erik, and all his hard-earned knowledge, into turmoil. His mother insisted on having him fitted for every suit of clothing imaginable. Erik had always taken pride in his apparel; if he dressed nice and wore expensive clothes, maybe people would not notice his ugliness.
A week after his arrival, Erik found himself standing in the middle of the Tailor Shop being fitted for, he couldn't even remember how many, suits of clothing. It would not have been so bad if Erik did not have to be there…but that was, unfortunately, a prerequisite. This mind numbing, completely boring process required a lot of standing still and being fussed over; Erik despised being fussed over!
This particular fitting was being heralded as the most important one of all! The ball was coming up in a week and Erik had to look his best! Erik laughed to himself about the idiocy of this entire charade. For the past week he had been told over and over again how handsome he was and how lucky some woman will be to win his heart; but deep in his soul Erik knew that just putting a coat of fresh paint over a filthy wall did not make the wall clean, it merely covered the filth.
Erik tolerated the attention and even made light conversation, but he was not happy. His sisters and mother discussed his chest size, his inseam, his arm length, his neck size, his waist size, what colors went best with his eyes and the width of his shoulders; Erik was completely mortified. No woman had ever been privy to any of his personal measurements, none had ever wanted to be (or so he thought); now, he had five of them discussing these attributes in public where heaven knows who could hear every juicy detail!
His father had, inexplicably, remembered an important matter that he needed to tend to and was unable to join them for this joyous occasion. Erik smirked at the realization that Alastair had just not wanted to come – and that was that. Erik made a mental note to be sure and exercise that male privilege when it came time to pick up these items.
Erik's hair had grown fashionably long, and now came to rest just below the collar on his shirt. It was impossibly thick and wavy; making Erik look younger than he had ever looked. The days of touring the gardens and riding his stallion had bronzed his skin to a golden hue; he was a very tantalizing man…very tantalizing indeed…a fact of which the women of Scotland were very much aware, but a fact about which Erik had no idea.
As Erik thought of all the wonderful possibilities that would prevent him from ever having to endure this mind-numbing experience again, the women continued to fuss over him, noting every detail of his appearance with continuous gibberish and endless chatter. Erik battled a riveting headache, but smiled as if he had no worries at all.
The early spring morning before the ball found Erik far, far, away from Berwithshire. He had gotten up with the chickens, dressed in his riding clothes and escaped the life of Lord Erik by galloping full speed toward the hills on Nucis Rex (Latin for King of the Night). Alastair had insisted that Erik pick out a personal steed. The stallions in the Berwithshire stock were magnificent; beautiful black, brown and white horses that pranced about proudly, displaying their grace and elegance before him.
Nucis was a proud, black, mammoth of a stallion with a feral glint in his eye. He snorted and stomped his hooves as Erik stealthily approached him. The soft, lulling tone of Erik's voice calmed the stallion into allowing Erik to caress his strong neck and rub his gloved hand along the horse's shanks and back. Erik knew at that moment that this glorious creature was his. He worked for days molding the wild beauty that Nucis possessed and training the horse to accept his weight. Erik loathed saddles and rode bare back, teaching Nucis the commands of his body. Using no bridle, Erik trained Nucis to recognize the mere pressure of his legs as indication of direction and speed.
Freedom; pure, unadulterated, and sacred - that was the only way Erik could describe the feeling of being atop Nucis while the stallion took him into the hills. Erik was completely oblivious to anything around him accept the feel of the wind in his hair and the brush of the sun on his uplifted face. He wore a simple white shirt, unbuttoned half way; black riding pants and black riding boots that reached to his knees. Lord Erik was taking a break and The Phantom had all but disappeared; in this moment, he was just a man, at one with the hills and every blade of grass.
The landscape was grand and majestic; the most indubitable evidence that God existed. Erik had never felt His presence as much as he did now, peering appreciatively over the rolling hills, distant mountains, grandiose lake and babbling brook from the lofty height of Nucis' back. Erik was only about three miles away from the castle, but it felt like a whole new world to him; away from prying eyes and ever-listening ears, and gossiping tongues.
He had discovered that his love of solitude and quiet was inherited from his father. Alastair would sneak off on many occasions and read in the vast library or recline in the garden. However, his love of riding came from Brianna; they had ridden together on several occasions, but she understood his need to be alone. Of course, she had to remind herself that he had gotten along for almost 30 years without her and had not suffered a trampling yet, but she so wanted to tell him to be careful; that horse he had chosen was beautiful but dangerous. Erik agreed; that is why he had chosen him.
Coming to the edge of the large brook, Erik dismounted and knelt by the water. He saw his reflection in the clear, running water. He tentatively placed his hands in the coolness of the water and was rewarded with an immediate refreshing sensation. The water beneath the opera house had never been this exhilarating! He dabbed the coolness onto his glistening chest and ran his fingers through his thick hair, giving it a wet look that added two shades of black to his mane; he was a magnificent sight to behold!
OOOOOOOOOOOOO
"Of all the dad blamed things…I have never, in all my life, been as angry at an inanimate object as I am at that carriage wheel at this very moment!" A'awynn's exasperated words echoed off the hills.
A'awynn had opted to forego the footman and driver and see herself the rest of the way to Berwithshire. She was an excellent driver and was certain she could go the last seven miles on her own. She had loaded up her and Lacey's belongings and, with a sweep of her simple dress, had taken the reigns and begun the journey. Not being one to revel in luxury or demand servants, A'awynn enjoyed her independence.
However, at this very moment she was not enjoying being independent at all; in fact, she was rather annoyed at her independent streak. She glared at the broken wagon and contemplated unfastening the horses and riding the rest of the way; but A'awynn was not the best rider there was and Lacey was scared of horses; and, if A'awynn was completely honest with herself, so was she. So, she pulled up the hem on her dress and set off afoot, with Lacey in tow.
She pulled her "seeing eye", a gift from the children, out of her bag and scanned the landscape for Berwithshire or help, whichever was closer. She saw nothing but open land and big skies. She took one more, last, fleeting look. She watched as a figure came into focus. When she could clearly make it out; what she saw took her breath away.
A horse, a magnificent black horse had just come over the top of a distant hill. The animal was huge; huge and glorious! A'awynn was a lover of horses, even though she did not ride very well. She new that this superb stallion was a top specimen…but it was what was riding the stallion that make her mouth water...
A man…no, a god was riding bareback on the stallion. He was the most strikingly alluring man she had ever beheld; and that was saying a great deal. A'awynn had been blessed to have many suitors throughout the course of her years. Many were considered the most eligible bachelors in their respective towns, providences, states or country. She could have had her pick of any one of them; but A'awynn was not lured by pretty-boy, polished good-looks, or fancy words laced with lust. She had had her fill of soft-handed, weak-willed men whose only skills were their ability to spend "daddy's" money and talk about politics or the weather. Her time with them had been best spent devising ways to be rid of them.
A'awynn greedily watched the man ride masterfully toward the brook. All she could see was the left profile of this face (He is breathtaking…rugged and chiseled). She had never seen a more skilled horseman. Few ventured to ride bareback, and even fewer succeeded; but his man…he was an expert.
Her adoring eyes took in his tall, lithe figure as he dismounted. He was lean and hard with muscular, athletic legs defined by his black riding pants; he walked with such prowling grace, that A'awynn could do nothing but gape at him in awe. He reminded her of a 9-point buck, proudly surveying his territory from atop a hill, with a stance that indicated power and prestige and calm alertness. This man had all of that…and so much more.
He knelt by the brook and playfully ran his hands in the cool water. A'awynn audibly sighed as he ran his wet hands over his chest; which A'awynn was sure would be as awe-inspiring as the rest of him, and then proceeded to wet his wavy, raven hair. She was completely entranced. Lacey sat down on the ground next to her, busying herself with a caterpillar.
"What do you see Mama? Are we close to where we are supposed to be?" Lacey's questions broke the spell and A'awynn lowered the looking glass.
They'd had to abandon the carriage, leaving the majority of their luggage unattended. A'awynn just prayed that no thieves were about and the items would still be there when she was finally able to secure some assistance.
"I do not think so, sweetie, we are going to have to continue to walk." A'awynn replied, distantly.
For some unknown reason, A'awynn did not want to disturb the enchanting man with her petty problems. She pulled her looking glass back up to her eager eye and cast one more longing look in the direction of the brook; but the man was gone. She scanned the area, but there was no sign of him. A'awynn looked away in disappointment; she had committed his profile and perfect body to memory; she would never forget the sight of that beautiful man for as long as she lived; surely he must have been an angel.
Erik mounted again and crossed the brook to the other side, proceeding up the hill. He rode for hours; his shirt had worked its way loose from the confines of his pants and more buttons had become unfastened. He finally came to the ten-foot tall, stone wall that defined the property line of Berwithshire. It was early evening, by the position of the sun. He had been gone, for what would turn out to be, ten hours.
Coming to the entrance gate, Erik turned Nucis to the left onto the winding cobblestone road that led to Berwithshire. He had not been riding on it for long when he spied the carriage. Nucis cantered up to it and Erik dismounted. He assessed the unknown vehicle and found it to be in non-working condition as the left front wheel had become dislodged. He peered inside, finding it devoid of anyone. The luggage was definitely female and there was a great deal of it. He assumed that the passengers had gone afoot.
Erik unbridled the horses from the carriage and took the bridles in hand. Trotting the rest of the way home, Erik enjoyed the cooling breeze as the sun dropped behind the hills and slumbered for the night. Erik still cherished the night, it was unique in its dark beauty and the sounds and feels were so different from the day. He breathed in the fresh, country air as he dismounted and brushed Nucis down. The groomsman, eager to do his job, took over the other two horses. Erik led the Nucis into his large stable and locked the door. He was relaxed and carefree as he made his way toward the castle.
Chapter 27 Preview – Friends, fatherly pride and the man of her dreams