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“What is the reason for the long engagement?” Lydia asked, then quickly backtracked. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
They were quiet a moment, long enough that Lydia recanted her question. “Regardless, you might be so excited to finally tie the knot.”
Again, they were quiet, so Lydia looked to Michael, eyebrow raised in question, but he shook his head, unable to respond to her unspoken question. Comparing their expressions, Michael could not help but to think of Mr. Weller the previous day. Mr. Weller had been so ecstatic about his upcoming wedding, but Michael could not remember Joseph or Kitty ever looking so excited. He tried to think back even to when they were first engaged, but he drew a blank in his memories.
“Tell me again where we’re heading,” Lydia said to him, desperate to ease the uncomfortable situation.
“There is a ruin of a monastery that is not a long ride away. It is quite a sight to see. We’ll go there, explore the ruins, have our picnic, then return before the afternoon is too late.”
With Kitty and Joseph sullenly quiet beside them, Michael and Lydia amused themselves by pointing out sights along the road. Rabbits, hawks, even deer in the meadows, caught their attention. As they journeyed, Michael could see Lydia relaxing, trusting her horse more, as she was able to focus on other things.
He could not help but watch her marveling at the sights, himself marveling at how beautiful she was. Her dark hair glinted in the sun and her eyes shone with merriment. If others saw her with him, he wondered if they assumed the same excitement, the same looks of love, between them.
When they arrived at the monastery ruins, Michael motioned to Lydia to wait. “I’ll help you from your horse,” he directed.
He dismounted quickly while she waited for him. Her knuckles were white, holding on to the reins. Taking them from her, he lifted his hands up to her waist.
“I’ve got you,” he said, trying to reassure her.
She placed her hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly as he helped her off the horse and lowered her to the ground. Her waist felt tiny in his hands. As he lowered her to the ground, his hands slipped up towards her breasts and he allowed his wrists to brush against them.
So close to her, he could not help but want to kiss her. He glanced over her shoulder to see Joseph and Kitty tying up their horses, so he planted a kiss on her mouth. Though brief, he crushed her quickly to him, before releasing her and stepping away as though nothing had happened.
A blush crept into her cheeks as he took the reins of both of their horses, tying them up next to Joseph and Kitty’s, who had started to climb the hill towards the monastery ruins.
Lydia wrapped her hand around Michael’s arm. “Have you been here before?”
“I have,” he said, placing his hand on top of hers, guiding her into the ruins. The roof had fallen in long ago, the framing laying at haphazard angles on the stones below. Grass and trees had grown over floors and paths, shrouding the place in mystery. “The story is that this place was built hundreds of years ago on top of Roman ruins that were older than that.”
“It has a haunting feel to it,” she noted. Despite the warm day, he saw gooseflesh rising on her arms. He did not feel the same. Nature was retaking something human made, reclaiming the landscape, and erasing its history, burying whatever ghosts might have once roamed.
“I’m sure these halls saw plenty of tragedy. Wars, plague, famine,” he noted. “But it’s almost peaceful now, isn’t it?”
“What happened to it?” she asked.
“I imagine it just fell into disuse,” he guessed. “I couldn’t tell you the real reason.”
They walked through the ruined halls. Michael watched Lydia run her hand across well-worn surfaces, replicating motions of occupants hundreds of years before. Joseph and Kitty were always in earshot, talking softly between the two of them, making similar observations as they explored.
Michael found himself enjoying the quiet wandering. Though he thought briefly if he might get Lydia alone, he felt content to just have her hand on his arm, feeling her warmth next to him. He almost felt relieved and comfortable, not having the tension between them any longer.
Joseph called out to them, “What do you say to picnic here?”
Joseph stood among a cluster of stones that had fallen from an archway above. The sun shone down on the spot, making the scene look magical.
“Looks good to me,” Michael said. “Let me go get the packs.”
He left Lydia with them, hurrying to the horses to return with packs of food and a bottle of wine. When he returned, they had chosen seats on stones, waiting for him. He set the packs down, unpacking the food and pouring wine into glasses. They marveled a moment at the contents the cook had packed for them.
“What did you think of your first ride?” Michael asked Lydia, popping a chunk of cheese into his mouth.
She waited a moment to answer, chewing a bite of a meat pie. “I do think I’m already sore, Your Grace. I imagine I’ll be utterly exhausted by the time we return.”
“You should get used to it,” Kitty told her. “The first time always leaves you sore.”
“It gets easier then?” she asked. “The more you ride?”
“Indeed,” Joseph agreed. “I remember being quite sore and tired after my lessons, but I would say I hardly noticed today’s ride at all.”
