~26~

What is hope? A breeding awareness clinging to some invisible ledge garnering strength for desires unattainable and yet so blessedly possible? Or perhaps a debilitating disease gone undiagnosed that claws at the dents and cracks of one's subconscious, threatening to taint the unspoiled remains of unerring predictability?

For many, it is the latter.

For others, well... the former proves a more sophisticated surplus and onto this Aleksandr Garin held as he wandered along the footpath leading to the grandfather oak. The distant pond, flickering like a guiding glass light, reflected the uncertain rays of sunshine that seemed to mirror doctor's thoughts. He replayed the conversation back at the house for the fifth time since he'd set out, and Wade's baffled face with the unruly lock of hair in his eye came back to him.

"Idrie?!"

Wade turned from Lisabeth to the doctor with a look of sincere surprise. Garin convinced himself that if the young man's head suddenly fell from his shoulders, it would still swivel this way and that to observe its targets from the carpeted floor.

Lisabeth sighed, casting a gaze at her propped foot, before letting it wander about the room. Her eyes settled on the window seat where Lori had perched before her mother and father shooed her or the room.

"Yes, Wade, and can you really blame us for thinking it? "

"But I'm affianced to you, Lizzy."

The young woman snickered, drawing a smile from her betrothed. She flicked him in the nose.

"Not until two hours ago, silly."

"Really? I'd be willing to wager we were practically engaged from the day your discombobulated form rendered itself upon my father's sofa—"

They both snapped their gazes towards the doctor, who let out a light chuckle. Lisabeth narrowed an eye at the man.

"Something you find amusing, sir?"

He shook his head despite his growing smile.

"You two will never fail to amuse me, I think." He shook his dark head once more and moved towards the window. "How did I miss this?"

"Daddy would say you were too preoccupied with what was expected and obvious."

She wrinkled her nose.

"Funny, now that I think of it. Idrie would have said the same thing."

Idrie.

"I'm lucky to have gotten her for a sister," said Wade, his voice sounding distant as the doctor tried to grasp his words. "Although I get the feeling, I'll be on the receiving end of her scolding." He winced at the thought (and well he should, he discovered several years later when he and Garin got in a carriage accident because of his recklessness and Lori's fat bellied pig!)

But that's for another story.

The rolling ripples across the lake as the breeze floated with tender abandon pulled the doctor from his momentary reverie. He glimpsed the soft tendrils of blue satin floating in the wind and could hear Wade as he reflected once more.

"You should take a walk, Garin. You always adored windy days and the weather couldn't be any chipper, wouldn't you agree?"

Garin thought he heard a taunt somewhere in this information but was distracted by Lisabeth's soft voice as she threw a stern look at her betrothed before turning to the doctor.

"And bring me some wild flowers, could you? Today I imagine they'll sing more sweetly than ever. You shall be a brother to me, after all, since Wade considers you one. It is my sincere hope you appreciate the thought as much as I."

Garin was only too pleased, and bent to kiss the tender cheek and smile at the couple once more.

Wade clapped him on the shoulder as he walked him to the door.

"You know where the flowers are, yes? Lori mentioned somewhere along the path to the oak but I think," his laughing eyes became mischievous as he gave the doctor a knowing look, "the best one would be near the pond."

Garin frowned at his friend.

"What game are you playing at now, man?"

Wade tilted his head back and laughed. This annoyed the doctor, who felt there'd been enough laughter at his expense to last the remainder of the year.

"Just be off, won't you? You wouldn't want me to bring up Anne again, do you?"

Lisabeth groaned from the sofa.

"By God, don't let him start that again."

Wade chortled at that and did not hide his fascination with the doctor's irritable glower.

"You talk too much."

Garin and Wade were equally astonished by the candidness of the doctor's statement.

"Why, yes, I do. Thank you. But you know what? You don't talk nearly enough."

"I beg your pardon?" Garin straightened, affronted, really.

Wade tsked, shaking his head and adopting a disappointed look.

"I thought you taught me that saying something and having something to say were similar and yet entirely different concepts."

Garin stared at him.

Wade nodded.

"Ah, yes, whereas I fell in the former, you, my friend, are always tipping just on the edge of the latter. The only problem is you refrain from saying what you ought."

He smiled, this time without an ounce of mockery or mischievousness about it.

"A wise man once told me that change was a necessary constant, Garin, even if not always welcome. For it keeps us sharp and prepares us for things to come..."

Garin chuckled.

So the boy remembers, eh?

A twittering bird zoomed past, drawing his attention to the figure ahead. He watched the slender form of Miss Brightley as she turned to the sounds of his footfalls. She met him with those grey eyes that were a constant reflection of the England's skies, and once again, that thing called hope soared in his chest like the carefree bird that had passed moments ago.

If this were a work of Shakespeare or another writer's tale perhaps, they'd have dove headfirst into wordy declarations of love from the doctor and a sworn devotion for suns to come from the lady, (before someone was killed dead by the sword or poisoned with a concoction of beet juice and rat's blood and the curtains came down with a theatrical and tragic flourish!)

But this is not that kind of story.

And the gentle words shared between Aleksandr Garin, the stately doctor of Harwickshire and Idrielle Brightley, the elegant bookworm from Curds, were true and untethered from the confines of public scrutiny. There was, in that moment of honesty, an admittance of stirrings braving the surface of awareness, a feeling which, at one time, did not consider itself worth considering from both parties..

What more is there to say than that mutual affection, faced with understanding and accepted with humility and grace, painted the atmosphere with a bittersweet cadence unlike any other?

Yes, a moment of bittersweetness that brought a tear to Miss Brighltey's eyes and induced the reserved Garin to embrace his treasure with a tender look. And what a thrill he felt as 'My dearest, Aleksy,' fell from her lips like sweet chiming bells upon a sleepless night! Or what warmth permeated her when his tender kiss upon her head whispered a faint yet engraving "You are dearer still, Idrie" to her heart's joy!

Not even Lori Lambert could have ruined the moment for these two, nor would she have considered it. For at this moment, she was lying upon the grass in the garden, her childish mind at work on the strange newness she felt at the idea of romantic affections. And what's more, she counted down the days to her brother's wedding with a devoted quietness that worried Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, who deliberated whether the child might have taken ill from the earlier confusion at Idleworth.

______________________________________________________________________________

Shh...🥹

I think I'll keep my peace for now. But you're free to make share your thoughts.

I'd love to hear them 😊

Leave a VOTE or two for the lovebirds, if you're wonderful.