“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it."  J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

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Chapter Seventeen

“Is Lady Alexandra allowed to be alone with a man?” asked Simon as both he and Imogen watched Joaquín and Alexandra walk off together.

Imogen was very nervous for Alexandra. She hoped that Alexandra would react with grace. She knew that the sight would not be kind. Such pain would always be a shock.

Imogen shook her head. “No, of course we are not allowed to be alone with men. Our father would surely have a stroke if he saw her.” Imogen then realised that she, too, was alone with Simon. She blushed at the thought.

Simon seemed to come to the realisation as he knitted his hands together in his lap, as if trying to occupy them. The silence between them quickly became awkward.

Imogen quickly filled the silence. “My sister has loved him for so long,” she told Simon. “Today will be their final test.”

“How so?” asked Simon.

Imogen carefully looked up at Simon. He was curiously watching her. “You must not repeat a word of what I am about to tell you. Promise me that you will not,” she requested sternly.

“You have my word,” he promised.

Imogen shuffled on the stone wall that they were sitting on so that she was properly facing him. As she did so, their legs brushed. She wished that she was not so responsive to these little intimacies but she was. This was the first time that she had ever been alone with a man. “Joaquín and Elena grew up with a very harsh father,” she began. “He was cruel and barbaric. While my father punished our bad behaviour by sending us to bed without supper, their father would lash them.” Imogen felt as though it was taboo to speak ill of a dead person, let alone a king.

“Good Lord,” gasped Simon. “A lashing? His own children?”

Imogen nodded. “Yes,” she confirmed.

Simon’s blue eyes darkened. “How could any man … any father …?” he trailed off as he growled. He shook his head in disgust.

“Joaquín wishes to show Allie his scars,” continued Imogen after Simon had had a moment to calm down. She did like the fact that he took great offense to this, especially when he questioned Joaquín and Elena’s behaviour as a father. It told her that he had the morals of a parent, or rather a future parent if he chose to be one. “He wishes to know if she will be able to tolerate them if they were to wed.”

Simon pursed his lips. He looked as though he was mulling over something in his mind. After a short moment of silence, he asked, “And do you think she will?”

“Of course,” Imogen exclaimed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. She looked off into the distance, in the direction that Alexandra and Joaquín had walked. “She loves him. Such things as scars do not matter.”

“Scars do not matter?” he repeated.

Imogen looked back to Simon and she shook her head with conviction. “No, they do not.” She could tell that he did not quite believe her.

Imogen took a deep breath and decided to take advantage of the fact that she was alone with a man. She reached out to touch the right side of Simon’s face without risking his refusal if she asked permission. She could tell that he was not breathing with how rigid he had suddenly become. Even she stopped breathing when her index finger rested on the deepest part of his scar, just shy of his eye. It was the part of his face where the bullet had entered. The scar was harder then she had expected. The tissue of the scar was very smooth, but stiff and tight. Simon exhaled a shaky breath as he closed his eyes.

Her index finger traced the scar, right down the side of his face. The hard tissue beneath his skin lessened as she got to his jaw, where his skin felt normal once again. She returned her finger to the point of entry and sighed sadly. Even though the scar was much larger than a bullet, thanks to the work of the surgeons, she could feel the small entry nonetheless. It was hard to comprehend that there was once a bullet lodged into his face. A man, not matter how ill or mad, had made an attempt on Simon’s life.

“God was watching over you on that day, Simon,” she said softly.

Simon caught her small hand in his and he squeezed it, opening his eyes to look at her once more. Simon’s hand completely enveloped Imogen’s. “He was too good to me,” he replied quietly.

Imogen frowned. “I wish you would not say such things,” she said exasperatedly. Imogen could not pretend to know what extreme guilt felt like but she knew that Simon should not have been suffering from it. “It was a miracle that you survived! Not all are as lucky as you.”

“You do not understand, Imogen,” he replied, sounding quite defeated. “He had a daughter.”

“Who had a daughter?”

“George Hepburn, the man that I killed.”

Imogen bit her lip to stop herself from saying something rash.

She was very sorry that George Hepburn’s death had left a daughter fatherless, but the war widow’s pension would surely be enough to take care of her. That was something that Simon did not have to fret about.

“You did not kill that man, Simon,” she said slowly. “He was ill, and you could not have known, no matter how you think that you could have.”

“If only I had known, though,” he said insistently. “If only I had been more observant. If only I had …” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“Simon, those words are torturous.”

“What words?”

“If only,” replied Imogen. “If only I had done this. If only I had done that. We cannot change the past. We can, however, change the future. Your future is happening Simon,” she said soothingly. “Forgive me, but you were wounded a long time ago. If you spend your life dwelling on the past, dwelling on what might have been, your future will all but evaporate.”

Simon’s hand tightened around Imogen’s. “And you believe that?” he asked, his blue eye watching her cautiously.

Imogen nodded. “Yes, I do. You are a good man, Simon. You are a brave and loyal solider and something dreadful happened to you and your regiment,” she said softly. “But you must stop punishing yourself. You must forgive yourself. You survived something that would usually take a man’s life.” With her free hand, she placed it on top of the one that was holding hers. “You are blessed.”

Simon raised his eyebrows. “Blessed?” He scoffed. “With a face like this?”

That comment angered Imogen. “That scar is the evidence of a miracle,” she said with utter determination. “You are being shallow, Colonel,” Imogen scolded. “Did I not say that scars do not matter? You are strong and healthy. You do not know how I have prayed that I could be those things.”

Simon, once again, looked utterly guilt ridden, but this time for a good reason, not that Imogen wanted him to feel guilty. She merely wanted to point out that he had his health, something that many others could not boast about. “You are right,” he said, nodding, “I am a very fortunate man. I have my health, family and financial security. I have been blessed many times over. I only feel as though I do not deserve it.”

Imogen huffed, pulling her hand from his. She stood up quickly but then regretted it, feeling suddenly faint. Simon was quick to support her by holding her at his waist, but Imogen shied away from him. When she felt stable, she glared at him. “Would you rather be dead?” she snapped, feeling the need to be terribly harsh.

Her question seemed to shock him.

“Because that would have been the alternative. You are alive, Simon,” she exclaimed. “I cannot stress that enough. That poor man was ill, and he committed a crime. In the eyes of the law, he committed a crime, and he was punished for it. That was out of your hands, so you must stop holding on to it!” She sighed. “You are alive,” she said again. “Live, please!” she begged. “Live how you want to. Do what you want to. Just do not continue on this path, for me, I am begging you!” Imogen did not mean to be forceful or overly emotional, but she could not help it. Before her stood an able man who was not living. He had marched into battle as bravely as any other solider in his regiment and yet he was behaving as though he should have been shot for cowardice.

Imogen could have sworn that she saw a sudden light in his otherwise sad eyes. Inspiration perhaps. Either way, she was confident that her sudden outburst had affected him in some way.

“There is something that I want to do,” he confessed. Before Imogen knew what was happening, Simon’s hands were on her person, one on her waist and the other on her neck as he lowered his lips to hers.

Imogen’s eyes flared as she realised that she was being kissed for the first time. After a moment of shock, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the experience. She pressed her lips to his, finally responding. She felt him smile against her as he held her tightly. She felt so safe and protected in his arms. Her small frame fit perfectly in his strong embrace.

When he pulled away, her hovered close to her face, waiting for a reaction. Without realising, Imogen let out a satisfied sigh.

Imogen could feel that her cheeks were crimson red, such a contrast to her pale skin and hair. How embarrassing! Her eyes opened quickly and she struggled to find words. When she did, she said, “Allie has been gone a while, do you agree? Perhaps we should go after them,” she mumbled.  

Simon smiled down at her, clearly amused at how flustered she was. Even though she was terribly embarrassed, she was glad to see him relaxing. She had gotten through to him, enough to make him kiss her.

“Shall we go and look for them?” he suggested cheerfully. Simon did not release her waist as they walked off in the direction of Alexandra and Joaquín. Even though he meant to support her weight, she enjoyed the intimate contact.

They did not converse as they walked, partly because Imogen was concentrating on breathing evenly, but also because they did not have to. They could be in each other’s presence and that was enough. Imogen felt as though a huge burden had been lifted. She could see it in Simon’s eyes.

They walked for around fifteen minutes before they heard the other members of their riding party. When they passed the trees and Joaquín and Alexandra came into view, Imogen gasped, and nearly fainted from shock.

Joaquín and Alexandra were kissing, quite eagerly. Joaquín was only wearing his trousers, exposing his bare bronze torso and back to the world. His hands were scandalously low on Alexandra as her held her in his arms, just as hers were knotted on his hair.

She gulped. She was glad that their conversation had gone well but there were certain boundaries that were not to be crossed until marriage! Their mother had specifically told her to be sensible. “Allie!” exclaimed Imogen.

Joaquín nearly dropped Alexandra from the shock at their embrace being disturbed. He did quickly put her on her feet while he retrieved his shirt from the ground.

Alexandra bashfully smoothed her gown and tucked the tendrils that he fallen from her bun behind her ears. Alexandra’s mouth was red. She looked thoroughly kissed. If she still looked that way when they returned to Ascot then she would need to sneak in through the kitchen to avoid their parents. Even though she should have looked ashamed, Alexandra could not help but grin. She looked so happy she could burst. “Oh, Imogen!” she cried. “We are going to be married!” Alexandra closed the distance between them in seconds and she threw herself into Imogen’s arms. Imogen was not strong enough to cope with such force, but luckily Simon was standing behind her and he was able to keep the embracing twins upright.

But Joaquín had proposed marriage. The man Alexandra had devotedly loved for a year, the man who was now struggling with his cravat, was to be her husband.

Imogen could not be angry with Alexandra when she was this happy. She kissed Alexandra’s cheek and whispered in her ear, “You will be so happy, I just know it, Allie.”

Once Joaquín was properly dressed, Simon shook his hand and uttered his congratulations in Spanish.

Joaquín smiled. “Muchas gracias,” he replied.

Imogen was simply elated for them. “You will be good to one another, will you not?”

Alexandra looked up at Joaquín with adoration. “We shall be.”

Joaquín looked as though he wanted to kiss his Alejandra again. “She will be most treasured. You have my word.”

Imogen believed him. They looked like they belonged to one another.

“I suppose we should return the young ladies to Ascot,” said Simon, “for we have kept them out in the countryside long enough. I suppose you will be late for luncheon.”

Imogen and Alexandra shared a distressed look. If they were late for luncheon, then their mother would surely have to tell their father that they were alone with two gentlemen.

“We have to leave,” the sisters said in unison.

Simon chuckled. “You two do that so often,” he commented.

“What?” asked Imogen.

“Speak in unison,” he replied.

Imogen smiled. She supposed that they often thought and spoke the same things. They had grown up together, spending every minute of the day together. It almost brought a tear to her eye knowing that her twin would be moving so far away.

“I have noticed that, also,” added Joaquín. “Perhaps we shall have twins one day that will be as closely connected as the two of you.” Joaquín offered his arm to Alexandra as the party turned to walk back towards their horses.

Alexandra smiled. “I hope so. There have been times, more than I can count, where I have not been able to do without Imogen.” Alexandra’s eyes did begin to water. “I will miss you so,” she whispered.

“I will visit just as often as Papa will give me the fare,” Imogen promised. Imogen wondered if she would soon have to ask her husband for the fare, but she knew that she was getting ahead of herself. Though the though excited her.

They all made their way back to the horses, the journey tiring Imogen very much. She found herself leaning on Simon more and more but he did not seem to mind. She was relieved when the horses came into view. Even though she would have to hold on to Moon’s reins tightly, she was looking forward to sitting down, even if it was on the back of a horse.

Simon effortlessly lifted Imogen onto Moon’s back and she settled herself on the saddle, taking the reins in her hands. Imogen internally groaned when her sight began to blur. She needed to breathe evenly. Her sight blurring was always a sign that she had over exerted herself. Imogen did her best to remain still as her eyes focussed.

They took off into a fast gallop, wanting to make good time so that they would not be late for luncheon. Imogen knew that they needed to be quick but it was taking all of her remaining to strength to stay on Moon’s back. She gripped the reins as best she could. She was determined.

The four horses flew across the Derbyshire countryside. Alexandra, who was leading, chose to take a short cut across a rocky field that was littered with natural ponds, neighbouring a lake.

All of a sudden, Alexandra’s horse spooked. The mare reared and let out a fearful neigh. Alexandra held on tightly to the reins just as soon as Moon did the same thing.

She heard Simon cry, “Snake!” just as soon as Moon was upright on her hind legs. Imogen did not have the strength to hold on and control her frightened horse. Imogen fell from the saddle and her world disappeared.

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Did I not promise drama? *evil laugh* ;) I'm sorry, don't hate me :P

I hope you liked it :) Thanks everyone for getting this story to #1 again! I am so honoured!! 

I do get the feeling through that a lot of you still don't understand why I haven't written Joaquin and Alexandra a story when I've heavily included them in this story. Do you know how in sitcoms they always have an A story and a B story? Well Imogen's life better serves as the A story and Alexandra's as the B. If I wrote Alexandra's story, it would be about how they met when Joaquin came to collect Elena from England, felt attraction, and then Joaquin had to leave. Allie was miserable for a year, had no contact, believed he was engaged and probably married, and then he showed up again. It just doesn't make for an interesting story. I don't want to write a story about a girl being miserable for the best part of the novel. That's why Alexandra's story is best served as the B story. I've given her as much "screen time" as I can without boring you with how miserable she was. I hope you all understand :)  

I've been doing research on British snakes for this chapter and the one after and did you know England only have 3 native snakes? Australia have 140 species! But fear not, they most live in the middle of the country which is basically uninhabitable as it's desert. You just have to be careful in long grass and you're fine. My family went camping nearly every summer when I was growing up and we saw more koalas and kangaroos then we did deadly creatures. Actually never saw a snake :P We once woke up to see a koala just waltzing casually through our camp site, only to puncture our blow up boats as he walked across them with his claws :P 

Anyway, vote and comment!!