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Chapter 5
Aaron watched her face suddenly shift from weeping into fascination. It was her, the brunette girl from the front of Hardon House—the Earl’s daughter.
Aaron was not one to believe in things like fate, nor was he a man who believed solely in coincidence. But seeing her before him, with her eyes going dry, going brighter than the moon, he knew that something was at play. Hardon had been a town that he had enjoyed straight away, and with her before him, he enjoyed it even more so.
That brief moment between them both; was much the same for Aaron as being on top of that hill, maybe even better. Because in her eyes, there was something more. That something, he would need to find out just what it was.
One thing was for certain in Aaron’s mind, and it centred around the very thing that seemingly brought the girl’s defences down. It was the poetry.
It was something special that they both knew of the same poetry. Their tastes were the same, and he liked that because, in the little travelling that he had done, there were few to match his literary likes. That was a trait about himself that he often kept to himself, knowing full-well that there would be few to match his hobby. Most people were into building things, studying politics, or becoming a smith. None of those activities or genres interested him.
But it made him curious. She was rather wealthy despite the drab wardrobe she wore. She had many things at her disposal, activities aplenty. Why would someone like her fuss around with a thing like poetry? Aaron often found those who had enough to distract themselves with needed books as much as a bird needs to swim.
But before Aaron could drum up the courage to bring himself out of his mini trance and ask her some of the questions that burned within him, it was her that fired the first inquisitive shot.
“What is your knowledge of poetry…books, and things of that nature? I have been all over this town and have never met anyone who could recite the poems that I hold dear.”
Aaron hesitated to respond. There was something about the girl’s confidence that threw him off. He had usually been someone who could fire off his thoughts without any complication. There was never any fear of looking or feeling stupid. But with her, it was immediately different; so different that it caused him to deflect somewhat. “You say that you have been all over town as if that is a grand feat. But I have travelled many times over in books alone.”
She looked rather pleased by his response. It was books that had made them instantly gain a level of trust for one another, or so that’s how Aaron saw things. And because she had been amused by his response, that gave him the confidence to speak on it further, despite not really wanting to delve into that side of his past.
“I must confess, even though I duly love literature and the escapes that come with it. I am not fond of my entanglement with poetry. It is one of the situations where the outcome is far greater than the cause. I’d liken it to growing up. Growing up can often be painful, for you are uncertain of everything and first discovering the likes of pain. But once you get a little bit older, you realize that it was all worth it. That is how I feel about that. Poetry is something that is bitter-sweet for me.”
“I am Matilda if that makes things easier for you. There should never be a shame associated with the written word. It should be celebrated.”
Aaron loved how certain she was of herself. Her opinions were more like declarations; songs sung by a singer that had practised for a decade. Everything about her had been different from what he had known. “I am Aaron. Aaron Masters.”
“It is nice to meet you, Aaron Master. Now that we are acquainted. Get on with what you are timid in getting on about.”
She was persistent.
“If you must know, I grew up as the son of a groom in the house of a woman. She was a special woman, and I say that because she has given me the time of day to teach me about words. Even though I was young, I wanted to see the world. But a boy could not venture out by himself. That would be folly. But once I learned how to read, I learned a means of escape. The imagination can do great wonders, and so I allowed it do so.”
“You felt trapped as a boy?”
“That is so. But poetry, stories, they could take me anywhere. They could make me forget about all sorts of pain. They gave me courage because often, characters do things that we ourselves are too scared to do. But then they show us what is possible not only for ourselves but in life. I know that it may sound crazy, as many people have told me before. But that is how I survived bleaker times. Now,” Aaron gestured to the horses and the space around them both. “I do as I please. I explore what I want when I want and where I want within reason. That is how one should live their life.”
“People around me do not quite believe that sentiment.” Matilda took a few steps forward towards the stables, leaning on the old wood that held the horse from running off into the wild. “Adventure is not in the vocabulary of those in Hardon.”
“You would know better than I. But from what I’ve seen, folks here seem rather happy in their day-to-day. You cannot blame them for not having an appetite for journeying the world. I discovered it at a young age. Most don’t get that privilege.”
It was then that Aaron realized he did not want to delve into his past. That was something that saddened him to an extent. When it came to Matilda, the last thing he wanted was to be sad in front of her or feel any uncomfortable feelings around her. She instilled much the opposite for him, and he desired to keep it that way.
“ButI think that the more important thing here is just why you were crying. You have to admit, it is rather odd for someone like you to be alone out here at a time like this, weeping as though the world is coming to an end. I don’t think that there is anyone who would disagree with me on that.”
Matilda let out a sigh and then began to walk over to a nearby bench that sat right up against the stalls. It was as though her posture had begun to match her feelings towards her life.There was a sadness to her appearance. It was one that matched Aaron’s sentiments towards his own past. “I guess that it is only fair that I answer that question given that you have been so forthright with me. But it is not an easy question to answer.”
They both sat down together. When they were comfortable, Aaron said, “Questions that involve our lives are never easy to answer because no one person is simple. We are all very complex animals. There is no shame in having complexities in your life. We are born with them. That is why babies cry.”
“You really do have a lot of beliefs, don’t you? My life is comfortable. There are few complaints to speak of. I have seen poor men in the streets who have far more to complain about than I. But a lack of complaints I’ve learned does not always equate to happiness. And it is a mix of that along with my future that makes me weep so.”
Aaron nods to the revelation, not quite knowing what could possibly help to fix her compounding feelings. The girl who walked with a stride of confidence was more than she let on. She appeared to long for things in the very same way that Aaron did, and on that level, he found himself relating to her.
Of course, Aaron still held a hint of restraint. As beautiful as she was and how impactful their conversation had already been on him, he was not blind to the fact that they had just met. There were plenty of layers to Matilda that needed to be peeled away before he could fully trust her. His own layers were not something that he peeled off for anyone, beautiful or not. But, the fact that they had so much in common did make him hopeful.
“I guess,” Matilda continued. “I feel rather selfish for wanting more. There are so many people who would give a limb to be in the position that I am in life, and here I am complaining about a future that has not happened yet. Here I am, whining about a current that allows my feet to go without a single blister. How can I not feel selfish?”
Aaron studied her face. Her lips that he was sure were soft. They weren’t quite pursed, but they were getting there. Her eyes fell to the grass beneath their feet, illuminated by the bluish moon. Those eyes of hers looked as though they held off another world inside them, one that was filled with passion more than it was elegance. She was a gem among diamonds, a pearl among rocks.
