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Pea left the room she was hiding in. She walked quickly past the cloakroom and continued on, pulling the silver clip from her hair and letting it fall. She shook out the pins that had held it tame and pulled the bracelets from her wrists.
She paused at the garden door, just long enough to take off her shoes and toss them aside. Outside, the low hills beyond the lake were brightly lit by the low setting sun, but the sky behind was shockingly black. The rain Adam had predicted was on its way. A low rumble sounded far in the distance, like a mountain stretching in its sleep.
Pea took a deep breath of the heated evening air and stepped barefoot onto the grass just as the first drops of rain began to fall.
Leo
The conversation Leo was hardly listening to faded into nothing but a vague buzz. The glittering room and its glittering people faded too. Pea had walked out and not come back.
There was no slender strip of dark green among the crowd. There was no beautiful head tilted, listening. There were no grey eyes, bright and alive. There was no one at all like her here.
He had seen her expression the moment before she left, and he knew he needed to find her, to explain, to apologise properly. She was still his friend and he owed her that much, even if the words he planned to say threatened to strangle him.
Leo handed the glass he was holding to whoever was nearby, and with a vague, murmured apology, walked out of the great hall.
He thought she had probably gone back to the cottage, but as he walked, he found a silver hair comb where two corridors crossed. One direction led further into the house. The other direction led straight to the front and the garden beyond. Leo knew that Pea, feeling sad, feeling trapped, or simply feeling too hot in the sticky evening air, would always choose to head outside. So he took the corridor to the garden.
Halfway along the corridor he spotted the glint of hairpins on the floor. Then he spotted discarded bracelets, an earring, and another.
The door to the garden was open, moving slightly in a welcome breeze, fresher, cooler air coming in from outside. Leo stepped through.
Golden sandals lay abandoned on the grass. He looked past them, down the slope of the garden, down the tree-dotted grounds, to the dark lake in the distance, black now from the heavy storm clouds above.
Rain touched his cheek. He hardly noticed. Halfway to the lake was a figure in a dark green dress. Pea, walking into the storm.
He ran, the rain starting in earnest. By the time he reached her, he was soaked, rain dripping from his hair.
“Pea!” he called. “Wait. Stop.”
She turned, head tilted, defiant, though her eyes were cool. The thin wet fabric of her dress clung to her body like paint and Leo remembered another time, another storm, all those years ago, when he had taken her by the hand and led her inside.
“Where are you going?”
“For a swim.”
“In the middle of a dinner?”
“Yes.”
“In a thunderstorm?”
“Yes.”
“Pea…”
“What?”
Water dripped from Leo’s face. He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “They’ll be calling us to our seats any minute. The food is about to be served.”
“So go.”
She turned and resumed walking to the lake. Leo glanced up as thunder rumbled and cursed under his breath.
“Pea, stop.” He hurried forward and took hold of her elbow, his hand sliding down her arm as she turned until he was holding her wrist. Her skin was slick and cold from the rain.
“You’re leaving tomorrow. Please…just don’t…don’t run from me. I hate that I’ve driven you away. You can stay at Thornley. I’ll go to my London house. Stay here, paint, for as long as you need.”
Even with the rain streaming down her face, Leo could spot Pea’s tears.
