Faces of the Wind

Chapter 1

STEVENTON – 1847

HAMPSHIRE, ENGLAND

With the deafening sound of nearby gunfire, Adrian tumbled down the ancient oak tree, which half-hugged the Longfeathers' magnificent, big country house. He sprung to his feet, rubbed his buttocks and giggled as he heard Lord Charles Longfeather yell at the top of his lungs, "You, little rascal! I'll have my dogs tear you limb from limb."

"Papa!" Irene yelled in her sweet, feminine voice from her small stone balcony before she looked down at Adrian and asked in a coy tone, "Are you hurt?" 

Her golden locks gathered in a long, thick braid that turned a silver colour as she stood in the moonlit night. She wore an orchid nightgown and wrapped a white blanket over it.

"Probably, ma'am, but a glimpse of your beauty is enough to cure me," he replied, flashing her a wide, mischievous smile. He then blew her a kiss and ran in the direction of Lord Longfeather's voice. She giggled softly and her greyish blue eyes twinkled.

He stood at a safe distance from the red-faced middle-aged man—at around fifty feet, saluted him and cried, "I would very much like to see them do it!" He jumped and ran as fast as he could, laughing loudly.

The barking of dogs awoke the household, who hurried to the balconies and windows to see why the Earl of Portsmouth and his three hunting dogs were loud at such a late hour.

"M'lord, m'lord," cried Edward Crumps, Lord Longfeather's valet, running towards him, "I'll chase him myself," and he hurried with the dogs after a very animated Adrian.

Adrian didn't look back even though he heard the dogs' barking grow closer. His face was high-strung and not likely to lose its impish beam any time soon. He ran vigorously, his body on fire, hopped over obstacles and made several turns until he outran the beasts and found himself in front of the house of Robert Thunderton, his father's best friend.

He caught a glimpse of a lady's silhouette by one of the upper story windows, so he hurried in her direction.

"Arden," he said in a loud whisper, standing under the window.

"Arden," he repeated, but she didn't seem to have heard him, so he grabbed a pebble from the ground and tossed it at the glass window.

The lady jumped in her place and was distracted from the letter in her hand. She put it on the desk in front of her and looked up at the window then rose from her seat and opened it. She looked around but saw no one. The moon was full and shining generously; it was impossible not to look skyward and admire its magnificence.

"Here, Arden," Adrian said in a loud whisper, appearing under her window, "down here."

"Adrian!" She cried, not a tad delighted to see him, "What brings you at this late hour?"

"Shshshshsh," he grimaced, "quiet or you'll get me killed!"

It was a warm July night that encouraged crickets to chirp loudly, but the soft breeze helped cool Adrian's sweaty body.

"Sneak me inside," he pleaded, his boyish features morphing into a doleful expression like that of a cuddly cat begging for food, "please, Arden."

"Why sneak?" She replied, her tone defiant and her small mouth curled by a smirk, "Why not come through the front door like a gentleman?"

"I do not wish to wake the household."

"But you do wish to create a scandal!"

The dogs' barking could be heard clearly now. Adrian looked around in a panic then up at Arden and begged in irritation, "Please, come on!"