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Prologue
She didn’t know how many times she’d come here in the past few years. Perhaps today would make the hundredth time, or perhaps the thousandth if she counted those dreams she had. Every time she arrived, it all looked the same. The same blue sky, slowly turning to night, with a few misty clouds drifting across the broad expanse. The same grassy stretch ahead of her before it ended at the bank of the river. The same gnarly roots of the large yew tree in the distance. It was a rather small park, inconsequential when compared to others such as Hyde Park in London. But this place, nestled in the countryside, held a special place in her heart.
Elizabeth came to a stop, lifting her gaze to the sky. It never seemed to rain here. Every day was as sunny as the day she’d first come here as a child, a girl of barely ten years filled with such excitement to play around the yew tree. She would often come along with a friend of hers, under the watchful and amused eyes of their parents, and for the hours that ensued, they were lost in the world of play.
Now, at two-and-twenty years, she’d long since lost that childlike fervor. Elizabeth didn’t care about running towards the gentle river in the distance, nor climbing the twisted limbs of the tree. Those memories didn’t even bring a smile to her face anymore.
“My Lady?” Elizabeth turned her head slightly to the side at the sound of her lady’s maid. Gemma was an older woman who had been by Elizabeth’s side since Elizabeth was in her youth. “Perhaps we should take our leave soon. Lord Gillet did say there will be guests who you have to meet.”
Ah, yes. Those specials guests, one of whom was a gentleman hoping to have her hand in marriage, were the last people Elizabeth wanted to see.
“I suppose,” she murmured noncommittally, sighing. But she didn’t turn around. Instead, she ventured closer to the tree, letting her wistful memories wash over her as she ran a finger over the simple gold ring he’d given her before he’d disappeared.
Take this, Beth, as a symbol of my love for you. It is a promise to our future, a future that we will have together. When we are older, I will officially ask for your hand in marriage.
It had been so long since she’d seen his face, so long since she’d spoken to him. One year had passed since she’d last seen him and Elizabeth had spent her days in the countryside longing for the day he would return to her, clinging to those words. With every day that went by, with her memories of their time together following her constantly, her determination grew. She told herself they would see each other again, that nothing would stop her from finding him, even if she had to search across the seas.
Nothing would come in the way of them one day being able to stand before this tree together once again. And then would she ask why he’d left so suddenly in the first place.
Without a word, without a letter, he’d simply disappeared. The last time she’d seen him was one week after the death of his mother, at the funeral. Elizabeth had still been struggling to handle the death of her own mother six months before but she’d pushed her grief aside to console him. She couldn’t forget the look on his face as he watched his mother’s coffin lower into the ground. There had been no tears, no anguish. Only hard anger.
She didn’t see him again after that and Elizabeth spent the ensuing six months trying to inquire about his whereabouts. Her visits were unhelpful and none of his other friends knew what had happened. His disappearance had only added to her own distress and so when her father told her they would leave London and reside at their countryside manor, she had little choice but to accept.
I care not about those guests when I still haven’t found you.
The tears that were never far sprang to her eyes. Elizabeth reached a hand out to touch the bark of the tree. “Where are you, William?”
As if in response to her question, a sudden gust of wind came from the left, tugging wildly at her gown. Elizabeth curled her hand into a fist, letting it drop to her side, as she tried to hold back her sobs. She was tired of crying. But she was tired of failing, too.
She wandered to the side, away from the river, still running her hand on the rough bark. This side of the tree was wetter, usually blocked from the sunlight, and so she normally stayed away. But, for some reason, she went there today and she didn’t bother to ask herself why. Then, something caught her eye. A white slip of…something, drifting in the wind. It seemed to be tethered to the tree.
