"I met a boy whose eyes showed me that the past, present and future were all the same thing." Jennifer Elisabeth

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IV.

Katy screamed in terror as she hurtled down the embankment in complete chaos. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll over roots, rocks, and endless mud. She was too terrified to feel pain, and the fall felt like it would never end.

She flung her arms out, in an effort to grab hold of a root or branch that could stop her fall, but she could hold onto nothing before it disappeared from her grasp.

And then the fall ended. With a scream, she felt herself collide with something. Something hard. She was on top of something, but she was lying horizontally. She wasn't falling anymore.

Katy was afraid to open her eyes. She was afraid she would be on the edge of a cliff, or something dreadfully like it. She could only imagine what one of Eliza's books would paint this like.

"Are you alright, my lady?" rasped a deep voice.

Katy's eyes snapped open, and she realised that the object she was lying on top of was a strange man. Katy anxiously looked around and gasped at the height of the embankment that she had just fallen down. Rain was still running down it like a waterfall.

A saddled horse was standing idly only a few feet from them. This stranger must have dismounted to try and catch her.

Katy attempted to scramble off of him, but the pain she was feeling had rapidly found her. She had aches and pains all over her body, and the sudden movement pained her.

Her pained cries caused her rescuer to place his hands on her arms to stop her from movement. "My lady," he said firmly, capturing Katy's attention. "Where are you hurt?"

The stranger was sitting up with her, but Katy was still sitting on his lap. He looked on her with absolute sincere concern in his warm, trustworthy brown eyes.

Katy concentrated, and she realised that a lot of her pain was localised in her leg. "My leg," she told him.

The stranger gently shifted her onto the ground and reached for the hem of her skirt. Before he touched the fabric, he asked, "May I touch you, my lady?"

Katy nervously nodded, and the stranger lifted her skirt just enough to expose the bloody wound on her shin. Whatever she had fallen on had torn her stockings and stained them red with blood. The cut looked deep, and the sight of it brought bile into Katy's throat. But after falling on him, she couldn't vomit on her rescuer. She looked away.

"Come," decided the stranger. "Philip and I were about to find some shelter. We passed a shallow cave about hundred yards from here. Please, allow me to carry you."

Once Katy had nodded in permission, the stranger gently placed one arm under her knees, and the other around her back. He stood up with her and began to walk with her along another wood path. He whistled to his horse, and the black stallion obediently followed his master.

The stranger carried her for only a few minutes before he stopped at the shallow cave. It was more of a rock ledge than a cave, but it offered shelter. He placed her down gently on the dirty ground and then led his horse underneath it as well.

Like a charmer, he motioned for his horse to sit down, and he did as he was told. He folded his legs underneath him and sat underneath the ledge beside his master. The stranger cooed at his horse, and stroked his nose, uttering kind words for him. As soon as the horse was settled, he turned his attention back to Katy.

"What do they call you, my lady?" he asked her, as he gently lifted her skirt again, just enough to expose her wound.

Little did her rescuer know, she was not a lady.

He looked like a gentleman, though. He was dressed finely. Of course, most of his clothing was covered by a thick, dark cloak, no doubt made of warm wool. But she could see the brass buttons and his golden pocket watch through the gape.

"Katy Fairchild," she replied.

His dark hair fell into his brown eyes, and he quickly brushed it away as his hands hovered over her leg, as though he was thinking of what to do. But he looked up at her and smiled.

It was then that she could appreciate just how handsome he was. His smile resulted in deep dimples in his cheeks. He had a nice face, with a strong jaw, and a straight nose. But his dimples were youthful, and she guessed that he was only a few years older than she was.

The stranger removed her boot and tore at her stocking, removing it from her leg. The fabric that was lifted from the wound sent sharp pains up her leg, and Katy winced.

"I am sorry, Miss Katy," he apologised sincerely. He turned and opened a leather pouch that was attached to his horse's saddle. He removed a metallic flask and gave her a regretful expression. "Please do not think poorly of me. This is whiskey, it will sting, but it will clean your leg."

No sooner had he offered her that warning, he poured the golden liquid onto Katy's leg.

It was the first time in her life that Katy had ever wanted to utter a swear word. She cried out in pain and the stranger offered her words of consolation, but they were of little comfort to her. Much to her frustration, tears escaped her eyes.

The stranger quickly removed his coat and untucked his shirt from his breeches. He ripped at the seam and tore off a strip of fabric, before wrapping Katy's leg with it. He fastened the fabric tightly and Katy hissed in pain.

"I am sorry, Miss Katy," he apologised for the tenth time.

"No, do not apologise," she huffed, "it is I who should be apologising. My clumsiness nearly got us both killed. I am sorry I fell into you like that." Katy quickly covered her legs with her skirt. She immediately felt better, which was silly as she was no doubt going to be covered in bruises tomorrow.

"You are shivering," he remarked. "Please, allow me." He wrapped his woollen coat around Katy, and its size completely enveloped her. She had not realised that she was also feeling the cold as well as her injuries.

"Who are you?" Katy asked.

"Harry," he replied.

"And what should I call you?" Katy could not call him by his first name.

"Just Harry," he insisted.

Katy did not feel right calling a gentleman by his first name. She would try to avoid it. But she was unsure of why she could not know his surname.

"How did you learn to do that?" she asked, motioning to her leg.

Harry grinned. "Well, I suppose I was quite boisterous as a boy. I learned quickly to tend to my own wounds before my mother found them." Harry looked out into the woods and frowned. Water was rushing over the rock ledge like it was a miniature waterfall. "What weather," he remarked. "And what is a young lady like you doing out in it?" Harry turned to her.

"I had to run an errand," she replied.

"And it could not wait?" he queried.

Katy shook her head and winced when she realised the stiffness in those muscles. "I am not a lady," she confessed. "So, when I am tasked with something, I do it."

Harry frowned. "What sort of terrible masters would send a young lady out into this sort of weather?" he demanded to know.

"They are not terrible!" Katy cried defensively. "And it was not raining when I departed. Mrs Banes needed me to take a letter to her friend." At that moment, a boom of thunder echoed above them, and Katy jumped.

The rain continued to assault the ground and Harry's horse, Philip spooked.

Harry practically launched on his horse, stroking his nose, and whispering to him. Harry looked the intelligent animal in the eyes, willing him to calm down as the storm persisted.

Katy could see how much Harry cared about his horse, and she respected that.

When Philip calmed, Harry turned back to her. "Forgive me," he said. "You must care very much about this Mrs Banes for you to venture out into a storm for her."

"Like I said," Katy persisted, "it was not raining when I left. Had she known this would happen, Mrs Banes would never have sent me out."

Harry leaned back against the wall of the rock, his arm touching Katy's. "Tell me of them, Miss Katy. Who are your family?"

Katy leaned back as well and tried to relax her bruised limbs. Her leg was still extended, and she decided to oblige Harry to take her mind off the pain. What harm could there be in telling a single monikered stranger of her family? Perhaps the pain was making her delirious. But he had saved her, and that had earned him a little trust.

"My parents are gone," she told him softly. "They died of fever when I was nine."

"I am sorry," he told her sympathetically. "My father died when I was about that age, too. It is no time to lose a parent."

Katy remembered bits and pieces about her parents. The memories had faded over the years, no matter how she longed to hold onto them. Though she still remembered little things, like her father's laugh, or her mother's singing voice at Christmastime.

"But I was brought to Wilshire to live with my distant relations, the Banes family." Katy would never forget standing in the garden of the Banes cottage while they decided on whether or not to keep her. She had never felt more vulnerable or alone in her entire life. "They could not afford to take me as their daughter, but they allowed me to stay as the companion of their daughter, Eliza. Eliza and I were friends immediately, but Mr Banes, I think, he loved me first. He is a good, and sweet man, with such a sense of humour, and a touch of nonsense." Katy said fondly. "Mrs Banes took longer." No thanks to Mrs Spencer. "She is sensible and clever, and she prides herself on her rationality. But I endeavoured to be a good companion to Eliza, and a good helper to her, and I know she loves me, too." She turned her head, no matter the protest of her muscles, just so she could look him in the eye. "I love them, you know." Something in her needed this stranger to know that. She could not have anyone thinking ill of them. "And I know they love me." Katy knew that she was not their daughter, but they loved her anyway.

Harry smiled, his dimples deepening. Katy liked his dimples. Even though he had not revealed to her his last name, perhaps someone up to no good could not have such an endearing feature.

"Something tells me that it would be quite easy to love you, Miss Katy," he confessed, not breaking eye contact with her.

Katy had never heard such a candid remark from a man before. Come to think of it, she had never had a proper conversation with a man before that was not Mr Banes or Mr Spencer.

"You are a good person," Harry continued.

It was not a question, but a statement. Harry had decided this.

"Your kindness, selflessness and sweetness are evident when you speak of your family. And only a truly good person would be sitting here, injured as you are, trying to convince me, a stranger, that your family are good people."

Katy did not know whether or not to feel bashful or a little bit surprised that this man had understood her so quickly. But then, was that not a wonderful thing, to be understood?

"You should not speak so candidly, sir," Katy managed to say, her nervousness evident in her shaky voice.

"Why ever not?" he asked in reply.

"Because you don't know me!" Katy protested.

Harry smiled once more, though almost wickedly, as though he wanted to prove her wrong. "I know you are good, Miss Katy."

Harry continued to question her, asking her all sorts of nonsensical questions, all in an effort to keep her distracted. Every now and then he would also stroke his horse, who seemed to be calmed by the sound of his voice.

Katy did her best to answer his questions thoughtfully and honestly, though before she had a chance to ask a counter question, he had moved on.

The rain persisted for hours, but their conversation never faltered. Katy had managed to forget that she was cold and hurting, and instead focused entirely on her mysterious rescuer.

As night fell, and the chill in the air became even worse with the rain, she found herself leaning into Harry. When she looked up at him to see if he minded very much, she was a little taken aback.

He was looking at her so intently, as though he could see into her. Never before had she seen such an expression on anyone. And she couldn't look away. A feeling so foreign had started in the pit of her stomach. A nervous fluttering was filling her.

It was like a connection had formed between them, something that was feeling awfully unbreakable was developing. Katy didn't know what to do. She had never experienced this before. She had never known anyone to experience this before.

Except for in Eliza's tragic novels. But those were all make believe and ridiculous. Was this ridiculous? Something incredibly out of the ordinary had happened owing to Katy's own clumsiness, and here she now sat with a complete stranger that she knew absolutely nothing about, contemplating her feelings towards him.

She did not even know this man's surname.

Katy wondered if she would ever see him again. Her eyes suddenly widened at the thought. See him again? She had not even considered that. How could she ever see him again? What would she say? How would she explain this to the Baneses? Already they would be wondering where she was. She could never tell them, or anyone, that she had spent time alone with a handsome stranger.

Katy shuddered to think the sort of spectacle Mrs Spencer would make of the whole ordeal.

Her mind started to run away with her, and the rational part of her mind was taking over. This would have to stay a secret, and she could never see this man again. Though as she did not know his surname, finding Harry would be quite impossible. Therefore, she would not ask for it.

As the weather went on, Katy was able to feign exhaustion. It was not a total lie, as her aches and pains were exhausting. But really, Katy wished only to avoid speaking to Harry, and encouraging anything that frightened her.

As she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep, she heard Harry utter, "I will see you again, Katy. I promise."