“I’d rather imagine flying through the sky.What if you fall while doing such a thing?”

Ian was displeased with Laura’s risky behavior.

“Only then can you earn respect from George and Daniel.George and Daniel need an adult to guide them.Just like a hunting dog needs a master to tame it.Miss Pendleton figured that out the moment she arrived here.”

“To teach those boys anything,you’d have to be a tamer, not a teacher.”

“Exactly.”

Mrs. Fairfax laughed.

“Now Daniel and George are completely under Miss Pendleton’s sway.Every day, they gather flowers or fruits to offer their teacher.Like puppies trailing after their master.”

Ian chuckled.

“Even Olivia, pretending otherwise, is smitten with Miss Pendleton.Her French pronunciation is said to be no different from Teacher Jeanne’s.At first, she acted prim, but now she subtly mimics Miss Pendleton.She even closes her eyes and pounds the piano keys, insisting she’ll play like Miss Pendleton.”

Ian suddenly asked,

“And you, sister?”

Ian stared intently at his sister’s face.

“What do you think of Miss Pendleton, having seen her yourself?”

Mrs. Fairfax paused for a moment, as if deep in thought.Ian didn’t think his sister was mulling over Miss Pendleton.The sister he knew wasn’t one to overthink when it came to liking someone.She either liked or disliked—simple as that.

Soon, she answered clearly.

“Miss Pendleton runs and rolls around all day, sometimes climbing trees like a squirrel.Completely different from ordinary ladies who sit hunched over their embroidery.With that kind of stamina, she could bear five children.”

“That’s the kind of evaluation you’d give a broodmare.What about her other qualities?”

“Well, as I said, she’s a clever woman.Kind-hearted, and she understands you very well.That’s enough, isn’t it?”

“Understands me?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Fairfax smiled.

“She knows you well.That you can’t stand empty flattery, that you’re prickly, fastidious, and have an off-putting personality.But that you’re not really a bad person.If I were you, I wouldn’t let this chance slip away, Ian.A woman like Miss Pendleton is rare.Especially for you.”

“I said as much.”

Ian quietly took out the silver cigarette case from his pocket.He gently traced the embossed pattern.It was a smoker’s habit, fidgeting with something tobacco-related even when smoking wasn’t possible.

“She will be mine.”

“You sound quite confident, don’t you?”

Ian gave a faint smile.

“I brought Miss Pendleton all the way here.Playing the part of a Don Juan, which I never imagined,and even resorting to distasteful deception.Do you think I went through all that just to have her play governess?”

He opened the cigarette case.The filtered cigars lay neatly in a row.He glanced over them.

“She must become my bride.And she will.”

“But how?I sense friendship from her toward you, but not love.And above all, she knows her place too well.Even if her heart were moved, she wouldn’t accept you—she’d leave for your sake.”

Ian furrowed his brow.His sister, usually carefree and obsessed with odd superstitions,sometimes had an unexpectedly sharp eye for people.He gave a bitter smile.

“I’ll make her love me.So much that she’d rather die than leave me.”

By the time Laura had been at Dunville Park for a month, several changes had taken place.

First, Laura began proper lessons with Daniel and George.Laura would hide notes about various English kings in the forest all morning,and the boys would search for them, arranging them on the ground in order to win.The boys, eager for Laura’s attention, roamed the forest all day collecting notes,and began identifying the kings in order using Laura’s books.

While conducting lessons with the boys in the forest,new visitors occasionally appeared.It was Mr. Dalton.He came to Dunville Park mainly to sketch,and since his primary interest was in natural objects, they often met in the forest.

Laura felt both pleased and embarrassed whenever she encountered Mr. Dalton.Her appearance was always disheveled from running around with the boys in the forest.Her clothes were covered in dirt,and no matter how tightly she secured her hairnet, a few strands always escaped.

Since he always appeared unexpectedly, she had no time to check her appearance.She could only face him as defenselessly as a squirrel suddenly appearing in the forest.

Mr. Dalton was always gentlemanly, no matter her state.Perhaps he sensed her embarrassment about her appearance and acted all the more nonchalant.

Whenever the boys disappeared to find the notes about English kings,he would stay by her side, asking about her daily life.Was anything inconvenient? Were his nephews behaving rudely?Laura, living a life with no discomfort, always gave the same answers,but he always asked the same questions.As if her comfort were his sole concern.

They would sit together on a stump or rock while the boys searched for notes,talking quietly.In the forest, where the only sounds were the clear, sharp chirping of mountain birdsand the rustling of wild animals, they shared ordinary conversations.

They had a common interest: Dunville Park, the Fairfax family, country life.For Laura, the feeling of country life was especially refreshing.She had hardly experienced living with the forest.She had briefly lived at the Pendleton country house as a child,but there had been no leisure to enjoy anything there.She wanted to talk freely with someone about the fresh excitement she felt these days.

There was no one suitable at the Fairfax estate.The children were too young,and while Mr. and Mrs. Fairfax treated her kindly, they were her employers.

But Mr. Dalton was her friend.She spoke freely to him about the emotions she felt in the forest.The joy of stepping on earth and leaves,the sense of freedom from playing with the children.

Ian listened to all her stories.Throughout, his eyes shone with understanding.He was a man who had grown up surrounded by forests, living with them.And he had loved quiet, beautiful nature his entire life.

At times, Laura found the overwhelming sensations she felt so unfamiliarthat she couldn’t properly express them in words.Ian would articulate those feelings with precise language.Through his words, Laura could organize her emotions.She also realized he felt the same way she did.Awe for the trees, birds, streams, fruits, and all the forest’s elements.

Sitting on a forest stump with Ian, breathing the air, and talking,the barriers between them strangely melted away.It was different from their interactions in London.

Even there, they had been very close.Drinking tea together, strolling, and talking was always engaging and enjoyable.But there had been a line between them.The unspoken rules of etiquette between a gentleman and a ladyhad governed their relationship like an invisible hurdle.

In these moments sitting together in the forest,there were no such lines between Laura and Ian.Sharing the same feelings in a new space removed the walls between them.Laura let go of formality.Ian showed gentleness instead of cynicism.The forest made it possible.

One day, Laura asked Ian to show her the sketches he had done so far.He readily showed her his sketchbook.The cover had a “D” written on it, meaning it was for Dunville Park.

Laura opened the sketchbook and soon found the elm tree she had climbed,the bushes where George picked cowberries,the swamp where they observed insects,and the small burrow where a fox nursed its cubs.Laura laughed, saying these were all the places Daniel and George had shown her.Ian said,

“Look at the dates.”

Laura widened her eyes and looked at the corner of the drawings.Each sketch had a date written in the corner, all from 15 to 20 years ago.

“Drawings from childhood.”

“Yes.”

“Places you played with Mr. Fairfax?”

Ian nodded.

“The playground of those two gentlemen has now becomethe playground for little Daniel and George.”

“Yes. Happily so.”

Laura flipped through the drawings again.

“The depictions of trees and grass are wonderful.Even from childhood.I learned to draw at boarding school, but my results were always predictable.What’s the secret?”

“Draw only what you care about.”

“And?”

“That’s all.”

Laura let out a small laugh.

“No joking.”

“I’m not joking.When I draw things I don’t care about, the results are dull.Technical, predictable drawings.My childhood art teacher said to draw what you love for good results.The more I drew, the truer that became.”

Laura looked at the drawings again.The care and attention were evident in the depictions.Laura thought to herself:To know what this person loves, you only need to look at what they draw.

From far off, rough footsteps approached.Daniel came running, drenched in sweat.

“Teacher, I found all five verbs!”

The boy rummaged in his trouser pocket and poured a heap onto Laura’s skirt.It was a pile of dirt-covered notes.The notes were filled with Latin words.

Laura examined the words, checking if any nouns or adverbs were mixed in.Remarkably, they were all verbs.Likely thanks to Daniel diligently memorizing the verbs from the Latin textbook Laura had shown him before they started.

“Well done, Daniel! You won today!”

“Hooray!”