I spread out my nket and packed lunch before I sit down and let my imagination run wild.


    She carries the tray carefully to the stable. She’s smiling proudly as she approaches the young man


    brushing the horses. Her families stable hand, Henry, his name is Henry, and he is the most beautiful


    man she has everid eyes on.


    She continues nervously with her tray, and as she approaches him, he turns toward her, his face


    dropping as he nods, unable to make eye contact.


    “I…”  She  hesitates,  unsure  of  what  his  reaction  will  be.  She  has  never  done  anything  like  this


    before. “I brought you some morning tea.”


    He frowns and looks down at the scones with jam, cream, and tea on the tray, and then he nces


    back up at her face. “That’s…” He frowns in question and his eyes dart around the stable to check


    nobody is around. “That’s very kind of you… but I cannot ept.”


    She puts her hands on her hips in outrage. “Why not?” she demands.


    He looks around nervously. ‘Keep your voice down. I will get into trouble,” he whispers.


    Henry knows that her widowed father has a reputation for being a violent drunk.


    His eyes hold hers but he does not speak.


    “You don’t even know who I am, do you?” she asks, portraying her hurt.


    He nods. ‘I know exactly who you are.”


    “What is my name?” she asks with a sarcastic raised brow.


    He smirks at her pushy demeanour. “Elizabeth.”


    She smiles shyly, relieved that he does, in fact, know who she is.


    She puts the tray down onto the hale bay and begins to ce jam and cream onto a scone for him.


    He looks around nervously again. What is she doing? He will be whipped if he gets caught talking


    to  his  employer’s  daughter.  Truth  be  known,  Henry  only  stays  working  here  to  keep  an  eye  on


    Elizabeth. She is basically held hostage in her own home as her father awaits arge dowry when he


    marries her off. His only child, her mother passed when she was young and she has mostly been raised


    by the governess and the house staff. Henry knows a lot more about her than she could ever realise.


    “Do you mean to tell me that I have been baking for you all morning for nothing? She puts her


    hands on her hips in an outrage. You ungrateful man.”


    He cannot hide his smile. “You baked these… for me?”


    “Yes, I did.” She smirks and pretends to dust something from her dress. “The very least you can do


    is eat them.”


    His gaze holds hers and he looks around again.


    Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “Oh, for heavens sake. Nobody is going to see you. He’s not even home.”


    He shakes his head. He has been dreaming of Elizabeth for far too long. This could be dangerous


    to his sanity.


    He sits on the hay bale and she passes him his scone. Their eyes lock on each other and she smilesN?velDrama.Org holds this content.


    shyly. Henry passes half of his scone back to Elizabeth. “Are you going to sit with me?” he asks.


    She smiles broadly and happily sits beside him. This morning is turning out just as she nned.


    It’s Friday night and I walk into the art gallery. This is all new to me and I am feeling totally out of my


    depth. My workmates are in a fluster and rushing around like maniacs, so I head over to Dulcie. “What do


    you want me to do?” I ask.


    She looks around. “Can you just go and check that the canapés and champagne are getting round to the


    clients?”


    “Sure.” My eyes wander nervously round the space. I know that star may be here. He has three


    paintings  on  auction  tonight.  They’re  gorgeous  paintings,  too-apparently  earlier  works  of  his.  Who


    knows why he doesn’t paint anymore?


    I walk into the kitchen to see a hive of activity.


    Travis spots me and releases a low whistle. “Wow. Hot, Emerson.”