“How has Henry been lately?”

Laura asked about the eldest son’s well-being to change the subject.

“Probably doing fine?”

To a stranger, it might seem as though Henry were still across the sea in Europe.

“He doesn’t seem to stay home much.”

“He’s always off to the woods and doesn’t come back.”

“Well, the autumn at Dunville Park is beautiful. For someone with Henry’s artistic sensibility, it must be irresistibly tempting.”

Mrs. Fairfax shook her head.

“He just doesn’t want to be around me.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I nag him a bit.”

Laura couldn’t hide her surprised expression. Mrs. Fairfax burst into laughter.

“Is it so shocking that a mother nags her son?”

Laura quickly composed herself but didn’t offer empty platitudes.

“Honestly, it’s hard to imagine you nagging anyone, sister-in-law.”

Mrs. Fairfax chuckled.

“You know, Laura, I think the best health regimen is to be moderately indifferent to your children. The reason I didn’t die from postpartum illness is because I watched George and Daniel, who haven’t evolved much beyond monkeys, like one might watch chickens, and let Olivia’s empty chatter go in one ear and out the other. But Henry’s different. He’s the eldest. If that boy becomes a wastrel, the family’s done for.”

Just then, the door burst open. George, the unfortunate boy who hadn’t evolved much beyond a monkey, bounded into the room.

“Aunt Laura!”

“Oh, George!”

Laura reached out toward the child. George raced over, plopped down in front of her, and hugged her knees tightly. Then he grabbed her hand and placed it on his head, asking to be petted. Laura gently stroked the boy’s golden curls.

Mrs. Fairfax looked at George with amusement.

“Acting like a dog, is he? Must be because we raised him so freely.”

“He’s just a child, sister-in-law.”

“George, soak up all the affection you can. Your uncle didn’t come today.”

The boy, who had been grinning like a cat with catnip, suddenly looked up.

“Really? He really didn’t come?”

“Goodness, look at that. His face lights up. Is your uncle your sworn enemy or something?”

As Mrs. Fairfax put it, George’s face glowed with joy. Of course, it wasn’t because he held a grudge against his uncle. George feared Uncle Ian but secretly wanted to grow up to be like him. The problem was that after his brother Daniel, with whom he competed for their aunt’s affection, left, Uncle Ian had taken his place.

Aunt Laura always visited Dunville Park with Uncle Ian, and Ian was always glued to her side. George wanted to cling to his aunt and act spoiled, but he was too scared of his uncle to approach her.

When they went to the woods alone, he could have her attention all to himself. But after about an hour, no matter where they were in the woods, Uncle Ian would appear like a ghost and whisk her away, glaring at George with eyes that said, “Laura is mine.”

If it were Daniel, they could at least fight it out. But in front of the stern Uncle Ian, all George could do was shrink away.

But today, Uncle Ian wasn’t here. George could have his aunt all to himself, without worrying about time or anyone’s watchful eyes!

George tightly grasped Laura’s hand.

“Aunt Laura, let’s go to the woods, okay?”

Laura nodded, brushing off dog hair from George’s head, evidence of his recent romp with the dogs.

“Let’s do that. Sister-in-law, is it alright if I take George out?”

“By all means.”

She agreed as casually as if lending a spare plate.

Laura and George headed straight for the woods.

As they crossed the wide field between the manor and the forest, George showed off his athletic prowess to his aunt. He leaped over a fence that came up to his shoulders and picked up pebbles to hit lotus leaves across the lake with precision. Laura marveled at each of his feats, but she was genuinely impressed when he did six consecutive somersaults.

“His physical abilities are remarkable,” she thought. “He must be encouraged to play sports at public school. Something vigorous like rugby. George could surely become a respected leader among his peers. It would teach him responsibility and help him mature. I must suggest this to my sister-in-law.”

Panting, George flopped onto the green meadow, his face flushed and sweaty. Laura clapped and praised her nephew lavishly. A proud smile spread across the boy’s face.

“The sturdiest ten-year-old in the world. You’ll make a fine naval officer.”

“Really, Aunt Laura?”

“Absolutely! You’ll be an admiral leading a fleet. Countless soldiers will respect George the Captain.”

George, no longer out of breath, sprang up from the meadow.

“Long live Captain George! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!”

Laura joined in.

“Hooray! Hooray!”

Laughing heartily, the two raced toward the woods.

In the forest, George and Laura wandered and played as usual. They picked wild strawberries, gathered pinecones, checked rabbit traps, observed ant colonies, scattered acorns on a rock to wait for squirrels, and more.

Laura loved spending time in the woods. Her life rarely allowed for such moments of emptying her mind and chasing nature’s simple joys. With George, she felt she was making up for the sadness of her childhood. She felt healthier, freer, simpler. It was because of George, the healthy, free, and simple boy by her side.

A squirrel hopped onto the rock where they’d piled acorns. It circled the nuts, then grabbed one and began gnawing at the shell with its sharp teeth. Laura and George, crouched below the rock, cautiously rose.

The squirrel stared at the humans with its seed-like black eyes. They held their breath, staying still, hoping the timid creature would sense kindness rather than danger.

The squirrel resumed gnawing at the acorn, its attitude closer to indifference than trust. That was enough. The two let out a small sigh of relief.

While the squirrel ate, they satisfied their curiosity. What would the black-and-white stripes on its tiny back feel like? Laura and George took turns stroking it. It was soft and warm.

It seemed ready to bolt at any moment, and both George and Laura’s fingers trembled. But this brave little creature focused on its meal, undeterred by humans a hundred times its size stroking its back. Its boldness rivaled Alexander the Great. The approaching winter must have made this tiny rodent fearless.

But then—

“George, is that you?”

A sudden unfamiliar voice startled the squirrel, which dropped its acorn and scurried under the rock. George and Laura let out a simultaneous cry of disappointment.

Footsteps approached from behind. Laura turned around.

Henry Fairfax stood there, dressed in a deep blue suit, holding a book in one hand. It was the French novel La Nouvelle Héloïse, which Laura had recently translated.

Henry, who had been standing casually with one hand in his pocket, was startled to see Laura. He quickly removed his hand and bowed politely.

“Good day, Aunt Laura.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Laura rose from the dirt.

“Hello, Henry.”

Henry smiled awkwardly and lowered his gaze.

“Henry, were you skating out here?” George asked.

Laura corrected him.

“Sketching.”

“Right, sketching. Were you sketching?”

“Can’t you tell? I was reading.”

Henry replied, still looking at the ground, as if he’d dropped a coin.

“Why are you always in the woods, Henry? Mom says if she catches you out here, she’ll make you come home, or she’ll boil you in a pot. Looks like she’s planning to make Henry stew. Yuck, I’m not eating that.”

“Quiet, you brat,” Henry grumbled.

George looked up at his aunt.

“Aunt Laura, would you eat it? Henry stew?”

Laura laughed and shook her head. Henry scratched the back of his head.

“Aunt Laura, I’m sorry for interrupting your time with George. I thought it was my tutor… I’ll be going now.”

He bowed and turned to leave.

“Wait, Henry.”

Henry’s gaze met Laura’s. She held up her palm, signaling him to stay, then made a circle with her thumb and forefinger for George.

“George, can you gather some small stones from under the mulberry bushes and meet me at the lake?”

“Why?”

“So we can play stone skipping. The winner gets all the acorns we collected today.”

Loving a challenge, George shouted, “Okay!” and dashed toward the bushes.

Now alone, Laura suggested to Henry that they walk to the lake. He followed her obediently.

“It’s been a while, Henry. It feels like over a week since I last saw you. Have you been well?”

“Yes. How’s Uncle Ian?”

“Not great.”

Laura explained the civil engineering incident at the Banzley Refinery. Henry’s expression slowly hardened as he listened attentively.

“…Uncle must be very upset.”

“He’s barely eating and speaks little. He tries not to show it in front of me, but I can feel his frustration.”

“It’s because his stomach’s upset. Uncle’s sensitive to human vices—selfishness, hypocrisy, vulgarity, greed. He despises the ugly side of human nature. It’s because he’s so noble by nature.”

“I think the same, Henry.”

They walked through the forest in silence for a moment. The distant caw of a crow echoed.

“Henry, why don’t you visit Whitefield Hall? I heard you used to come every day during holidays. Painting with your uncle, fishing, swimming. Is it uncomfortable now that there’s a lady of the house?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“I’d love for you to come often. Your uncle needs a distraction right now. And I’d like to get to know you better.”

“You, Aunt Laura?”

“Yes.”

Laura smiled at the surprised Henry.

“Daniel, George, Olivia, and little Ian—they’re all children your uncle loves dearly. You’re the eldest among them. Not just in order, but in his affection. You know how much Ian cares for you, don’t you?”

“I know. I love him too. Very much.”

“I’ve heard you trust and follow him a lot. But that can’t compare to how he feels. He sees you as his son. Like his own flesh and blood.”

Laura spoke calmly of her resolve.

“To him, you’re a son, and to me, you’re more than a nephew. I want to be another mother to you. I’ll always keep the warmest spot by the hearth for you. If you’re far away, I’ll write long letters. I’ll keep the best guest room spotless for whenever you visit. Even if I nag sometimes, it’ll be filled with love to warm your heart. So you’ll feel supported, not slighted.”