“Watch it, would you?” Jemima said, narrowing her eyes at Athena.
“Watch your tongue and I’ll watch my elbow,” Athena said with a Cheshire Cat grin. “You don’t realise how half the things you say sound to the rest of us, Jem. You’re lucky we know you’re not a total bitch.”
Jemima stuck her tongue out at Athena. But when her eyes met mine in the mirror again, there was a hint of coldness in them that hadn’t been there before.
“How’s your boy working out, Annie?” I asked, turning to my friend.
She smiled so wide I was surprised it didn’t split her face in half. “Great! He’s just brilliant. And so nice.”
“Is there romance in the air?” Harriet asked, giggling.
“Maybe,” Annie answered, her cheeks flushing pink.
“Will you give him a goodnight kiss?” Cassandra asked as she pulled kissy faces at Annie.
If anything, Annie’s face burned darker. She shrugged her shoulders and rifled through her small handbag. “I don’t know. Probably. If he wants one. He might not. How can you tell, anyway?”
Athena and I exchanged a glance, and we chorused, “You’ll be able to tell.”
There was a moment’s pause before we all dissolved into giggles.
A familiar song started playing, the muffled sounds of it sneaking its way into the bathroom. Harriet squealed and grabbed Cassandra’s hand, who grabbed Annie’s, who grabbed Jemima’s, who grabbed Fenella’s, who grabbed mine, and I grabbed Athena’s, and we all charged out of the bathroom and back into the hall where we could take the dance floor by storm.
I felt light and carefree as we shook our stuff. We fought off the boys who tried to infiltrate our tight circle. Some dances were just for friends, and no boy could ever change that.
When the song was over, most of my friends then accepted dances from the boys. I felt like a spare part, and I was so hot still, so I sneaked out of the side door and into the cool evening air.
It was barely nine o’clock but it was still practically daylight. The sun held its warmth, though it wasn’t as intense as it had been earlier in the day, and the mild breeze was fresh and invigorating after being in the stifling heat of the hall.
Birdsong floated in the air, and the swallows that nested in the eaves of the older buildings on campus flew and dived. The sweet scent of the gardens created a heady perfume, topping off the perfect atmosphere of a summer’s evening.
I skipped down the steps and kicked off my shoes to walk barefoot across the lawn to a large oak tree. Leaning against the cool, rough bark, I closed my eyes and let out a contented sigh.
“You look as though you’re enjoying the evening air,” a boy said.
The suddenness of it startled me, and I pushed off the tree and looked around for the source.
To the right of me stood a boy. “I’m sorry, did I frighten you?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling as he frowned. His voice was smooth and alluring, strong without being a bellow, refined and intelligent without being snobbish. Low enough that I knew he was on the cusp of manhood. He was tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist and golden brown hair. His lips stretched into a friendly smile, flashing straight, white teeth. The action was so warm and open that I felt my own mouth curving in response.
Shaking my head to clear the fog he had cast over me, I let out a quiet laugh. “No, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”
“I hope they weren’t too serious.” His smile widened. “Or that you can’t ever find them again.”
A laugh bubbled in my throat. “No, definitely nothing serious. I was just thinking how lovely the evening is. It’s still warm but not too hot.”
“Just right?” he asked.
“Just right,” I confirmed.
“Are you having a good night?”
I felt myself nodding, but I had to question whether I really was or not. It was brilliant dancing and having a lark with my friends, but I couldn’t deny that the altercation with Miles at the beginning of the night had cast a cloud over the entire thing. “I’ve been to better parties.”
The boy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh? How come?”
I shrugged. “It just hasn’t turned out like I thought it would.”
He seemed to consider this for a few moments. His face turned serious for a beat before he smoothed out his expression and he resumed his carefree one. “I think I know what you mean. I ducked out to take myself for a quick walk, but then realised I could get myself hopelessly lost. What do you say—feel like escorting me for a few minutes to save me the embarrassment of needing a search party?”
There was something about the boy’s easy charm that was both alluring and relaxing. He wasn’t threatening or imposing in the least, and I had to admit that I was curious to know more. “Sure. I’d love to.” I stepped forward to walk beside him and couldn’t help but notice that he was indeed tall. He wasn’t the same height as me.
He was taller than me.
For the first time, I had to look up into the eyes of someone my own age. It made my stomach flutter and he became all the more appealing to me.
I didn’t bother putting my shoes back on, and instead walked barefoot across the grass as we headed around the school. That was the best thing about Mapleton Manor—it was huge, colossal even, with plenty of wide, open spaces.
“I’m Peter, by the way,” the boy said as we moved farther away from the building. “You know, so we’re no longer strangers…just in case you started to question your decision to walk off with someone you don’t know.”
I giggled. “I wasn’t, but perhaps I should?”
Peter’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh no, you can’t do that, I’m afraid it’s too late for that. After all, you agreed to escort me. You can’t go back on your word.”
“Ah, but what if you’re dangerous to an innocent girl like me?” I asked playfully.
For a brief moment, Peter’s eyes dipped as he scanned my body. I shivered under his quick perusal. “I don’t think I could ever find it in me to hurt a beautiful girl like you.”
My steps faltered and he caught my elbow to steady me. Warmth blossomed under his touch and for the first time in my life, I was rendered speechless.
Peter smiled like he hadn’t just given me the best compliment I had ever had. “So do I get to know your name, or will this be a Prince Charming trying to find his nameless Cinderella type of situation?”
“Of course not. I like my shoes far too much to leave one of them behind,” I said dryly, lifting up the shoes dangling from my fingertips.
Peter laughed, a full-bodied, throaty sound that made my skin tingle. “You have a cracking sense of humour.”
“Thank you.” I felt myself blooming under his attention. “And my name is Frederica, but everyone calls me Freddie.”
“Frederica,” he murmured. “Freddie. I like it. It suits you. You look like a Freddie.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Is that your way of saying I look like a boy?”
“No, Christ, no,” Peter said in a rush. “Absolutely not. Trust me, there is nothing boyish about you.”
“That’s good to know,” I said. My cheeks warmed at his declaration. It was peculiar—in a lot of ways he was bolder than Miles, but he didn’t have even a hint of sleaziness about him.
We walked towards the woods, and the air was a few degrees cooler once we were under the thick blanket of trees. “Won’t you hurt your feet?” he asked.
“No, my feet are more at home unsheathed than they are in shoes.” I smiled. “I grew up in Monaco and I was always barefoot, scrambling over the rocks at the beach or wandering around at home. And I’m an outdoorsy girl—I’ve always played in woods. Bare feet give better traction whilst climbing trees.”
Peter laughed. “I can’t imagine you climbing trees.”
“I was the best in my class, I’ll have you know,” I said, pretending to huff. “At Bourne Park I spent as much time in the spinney as I could. If teachers couldn’t find me, they chec
ked the trees first.”
“You’re a total contradiction, Freddie.” Peter smiled. “And definitely not what I assumed when I first saw you.”
“And what was that?” I couldn’t help but ask.
Peter shrugged. “You looked interesting, but not as interesting as I now know you are. More than anything, you just seemed like a beautiful girl who was into all the usual stuff girls are. Hair, makeup, that sort of thing. I can’t tell you how impressed I am that you can climb a tree.”
I let out a startled laugh. “Is that all it takes to impress you? Be able to climb a tree?”
“You, my dear, have never seen me attempt to climb one.”
“Well, that does it. I have to see it now,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and silently daring him to refuse me.
Peter raised his eyebrows. “And you would happily see me humiliate myself in front of the girl I’m trying to win over with my charm and good looks?”
A giggle rose in my throat. “I would be impressed with the attempt—and the fact that you were willing to embarrass yourself anyway.”
He sighed and dropped his head. “Fine, have it your way. Pick me a good one.” Peter gestured around him to the various trees.
“Follow me.” There was a huge sycamore a short way down the path from us, and even the First Formers could climb it. It was full of handy knots and branches for holding onto and hoisting myself up. I led Peter over to it and waved in its direction. “Even a novice could climb this old girl. Just look for places to put your hands and feet and you’ll be fine.”
Peter peered up into the tree for a long minute as though he were facing the ultimate battle and his life depended on the outcome of this challenge. He turned back to me and pulled off his socks and shoes. He then rolled up the sleeves of his pale green shirt, and tucked his tie into the space between two buttons. “Wish me luck,” he said as he took a deep breath.
“You don’t need it, but good luck anyway.” I smiled.
Peter stood with his hands on his hips as he perused the tree again, probably looking for the best place to start. He moved partially around the trunk and grabbed a low branch, placing one foot and then the other against the rough bark, and hoisting himself up.
His foot slipped and he yelped. In his initial panic, he scrambled closer to the trunk and tried to wrap his arm around the branch he held onto. But unfortunately it wasn’t strong enough to hold his weight. It snapped with a distinctive crack and Peter skidded down the trunk and landed in a messy heap at my feet.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Peter’s eyes were squeezed shut as he lay flat on his back, his arms and legs sprawled out to the sides. “Is it over? Am I dead yet?”
A laugh crept out and I pressed my fingers to my mouth. “No, not yet.”
Peter cracked one eye open and peered up at me from the ground. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No, I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.”
He opened his other eye and gave me a pointed look. I could hold my laughter in no longer and it bubbled out of me. Peter sat up and got to his feet, brushing himself off. “Is that it, then? Have I completely ruined any hopes of getting to know you further? I’m sure I can find my own way back, you don’t have to take pity on me and escort me to the school.”
“No, don’t be silly,” I said once I had my laughter under control. “Are you all right? You landed quite hard.”
Peter shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s just my pride that’s wounded. Well, that and my elbow, I think.” He twisted his arm around to examine his elbow, and he had scraped a good length of skin off his arm.
I hissed in a breath through my teeth. “Ouch, that must hurt.”
Peter shrugged. “It stings a little. Maybe it will scar and I can come up with a good story that isn’t the horrifying, embarrassing truth of what really happened?”
“I feel terrible for insisting I see you attempt to climb a tree now,” I said, frowning at my own thoughtlessness.
Peter’s face softened. “Don’t. You weren’t to know just how much I really couldn’t climb a tree.”
Reaching my hand out, I gently touched his arm. “Just know that I am sorry you got hurt.”
He opened his mouth to say something but stopped at the last moment. His eyes turned mischievous and he flashed me a wicked smile. “I know how you can make it up to me.”
My eyebrows shot up into my hairline. “Oh? How?”
Peter jerked his head towards the tree. “Prove to me you’re the tree climbing champion you claim to be.”
I laughed. “I never claimed to be a champion!”
He smiled. “A pro, at the very least.”
Glancing at the tree, I realised I was hardly dressed for climbing. I looked back at Peter. “You have to promise not to look up until I tell you.”
He huffed. “But how will I learn where I went wrong?”
Like I would climb the tree knowing he was getting a perfect view straight up my dress! I folded my arms across my chest. “And here I thought you were a gentleman.”
Peter chuckled and he reached out to stroke my arm. “I’m teasing, Freddie. Of course I won’t look.”
“Okay, well turn around then.”
He did as he’d been told and I scampered up the tree as fast as I could.
I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d said that I spent half my time in the spinney. As a child I’d always been adventurous and the only good tree in my book was one that I could climb. I remember I’d given my mother a near heart attack when I’d climbed the tallest tree in our garden and I’d seen her through an upstairs window.
I’d been six at the time.
This particular tree, I had climbed hundreds of times during my attendance at Mapleton Manor. I knew every knot, every crevice and I was up it before a minute had passed.
“You can turn around now.”
Peter trailed his eyes up the tree slowly, and I caught the disbelief in them, even from my great height. “If I hadn’t been standing here this entire time, I would have said there was no possibility you could have climbed that tree that quickly.”
“I am a pro, after all,” I said, throwing his earlier words back at him.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would have said you flew up there.”
I twisted around and tried to peer down my back. “Darn—are my wings showing again?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Now come down, please, before my sensitive male pride is injured any more.”
I laughed. “All right, but turn around again, please.”
He turned away from me. “You really are an outdoorsy kind of girl, then?”
“Absolutely,” I said, taking more time to go down than I did to go up. The last thing that I wanted was to misplace a foot or a hand and land in an ungainly heap like Peter had.
When I reached the bottom, I tapped Peter on the shoulder. He turned around to face me, a sweet smile at play on his full lips.
“Well that,” he murmured, “was impressive.” Peter’s eyes moved to my hair. Reaching out, he plucked a leaf tangled in my locks.
Though he barely touched me, it was enough to send shivers all the way down my spine.
“You’re missing the dance. Would you like to head back, or…?” Peter watched me carefully.
I bit my lip and shook my head. “No. I’m not ready to go back yet.”
His eyes seared into mine. “I know what you mean.” Peter slipped his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together and stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.
Swallowing a sudden rise of nervousness, I took a step backwards, pulling him with me. “I know somewhere we can go.”
We were quiet as we headed into the heart of the woods. It was quieter here, the whispering sway of the tree branches in the gentle breeze, the far away chirping of birds the only sounds to be heard. Mapleton Manor and the dance were but a distant dream—an age away from where we really were.
; I led Peter to the clearing my friends and I had discovered, knowing it would provide perfect privacy and a place we could sit and chill out. I glanced at Peter and there was surprise all over his face.
“Not what you were expecting?” I asked him with a smile.
He gave a soft shake of his head. “No, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Girls at boarding school are always more resourceful than boys. I take it this is yours and your friends’ secret hang-out place?”
I shrugged. “Just somewhere private we like to come to, you know, get away from school for a bit, that sort of thing.”
Peter nodded. “It’s cool. I like it.” He wandered around for a few moments, taking in the makeshift circle of tree logs and the campfire in the middle. “How often do you come here?”
“It depends how much time we have, really. We always come loads at the beginning of terms, but as work gets more intense it gets less and less. And in the winter it’s so cold and wet it isn’t worth it. Although…” I let my sentence trail off as I approached one of the tree logs. This particular one had hollowed out at one end, and it was perfect for hiding stuff in it. Reaching inside, my fingers brushed up against a plastic carrier bag. I tugged it out and held it up for Peter to see. “We had our ways of protecting our entertainment.”
He laughed and took the bag from me. “What on earth is this?”
I gestured for him to open the bag. “See for yourself.”
Peter rifled through the contents. “Magazines, cigarettes…a bottle of vodka?” He lifted his eyes to mine. “You are a sneaky lot, aren’t you?”
Wasn’t that the truth. My friends and I had ingenious ways of getting our kicks. “Did you have any doubt? I was sure all the teachers at Stonebridge had warned all their boys about the dangerous Mapleton Manor girls. We are terrible, you know.”
Peter’s smile widened. “Well, that would explain it. I don’t go to Stonebridge.”
My eyebrows knitted together. “You don’t? But I thought everyone here went to Stonebridge.” Oh dear Lord…was Peter a stranger who had wandered onto the Mapleton Manor school grounds accidentally?
Lady in Waiting Page 11