I quietly stepped back, not wanting to alert her to my presence and delay my time with Estelle. Was it wrong that I was so anxious to see her? She had said she wanted to speak to me about something important. Would it be the same matter that I longed to discuss too? Dare I hope that I had become the man she daydreamed about?
More determined than ever, I pivoted and moved toward the front door. There would be no point searching the upstairs or any other room if Augusta were involved. If my hunch was correct, I would find them in the back garden and some animal would be involved.
I followed the path around to the side of the house. Right before I turned the corner to the backyard, my feet stilled.
Singing.
Someone was singing.
And not just any song.
It was the bewitching tune of my dreams.
“Hó-bha-fn, hó-bha-fn, Hó-bha-fn, mo ghrá, Hó-bha-fn, mo leana, Agus codail go lá.”
The words that I could never understand before now became clear syllables. Gaelic. I recognized the sound of them from my last trip to Ireland—though that had been some years. I slowly peered around the house until I saw Estelle. She was bent over a rose, singing to it.
I pulled back.
Itwasher. My back sank against the wall of the house, my heart racing and my breathing heavy. All this time she had been right in front of me. How had I not seen her for who she was? I pressed my eyes closed, her music tugging at my soul. Her soprano voice weaved around me until my heart rate slowed and my breathing evened.
It did not matter that I hadn’t seen it. What mattered is that I did now, and what I did about it.
The music faded until it stopped all together.
I heard Augusta call for Estelle, but I still could not bring my feet to move. My mind was reliving pieces of my attack, my few memories of my rescuer—of Estelle—and my longing to find her. And now I finally had. It was ten, maybe fifteen minutes before I was ready and could round the corner of the house.
Estelle and Augusta sat together on a blanket, their dresses in large heaps around them like a pair of melted ices. Augusta held a baby goat in her arms and was trying to force it on Estelle. For heaven’s sake. My sister had no limits.
“You’ll love it, I promise,” Augusta said.
“It is not for lack of trying to enjoy it,” Estelle answered. “I am only afraid it will bite me again.”
“Again?” I said, joining them, my hands clasped tightly behind my back. “What is this about biting?”
“It was more of a nip,” Augusta assured. “Now I have a question for you, Atlas. Are we to expect your presence during all my tutoring sessions?”
“When possible,” I mumbled. I could not stop staring at Estelle. Her ivory skin, her dark hair gleaming in the sun, and her gracious manners. Did she know what she had risked to save me?
Augusta cast her gaze at the gray skies, as if greatly put out, and stood with her goat tightly in her arms. “You cannot deceive me with a look like that on your face. I will go put Chleo away.”
“Thank you, Augusta.” I would have to think of a way to show my appreciation to her more fully before this courtship drove my sister mad.
When Augusta was out of earshot, Estelle sighed. “Your timing was perfect.”
I sat down on the blanket, my body opposite of hers, so we were beside each other but faced each other too. There was so much to say—but where to start? I spouted the first words that came to mind. “I thought we could show our gratitude to my sister later and go on a horse ride together.”
Estelle smiled. “Or we could write her a letter of our gratitude.”
“I thought you always rose to the occasion when given a challenge?”
She cringed. “Did I really say that?”
I gave an exaggerated nod. “You did, indeed.”
She pointed to the stables. “You of all people should be wary of riding those giant four-legged creatures after your fall.”
I wanted to laugh, but it caught in my throat. The mention of my fall only served to remind me that I had deceived her along with everyone else. I dragged my gaze away from her and studied the back of the house instead. I trusted Estelle—even before I had discovered the truth about her—and it was time to tell her everything. “The horses can wait. I think a conversation must happen first.”
