‘Suit yourself.’ Flora shrugged as she marched off ahead of him.
The going was easy for the first couple of hours up the lower slopes of the mountain, and they paused occasionally beside the becks that ran down into the valley, cupping their hands to drink the fresh spring water and splashing their hot faces. They followed the well-trodden paths worn by climbers before them, chatting companionably about everything from favourite books to pieces of music. Then the climb became harder and the chatter ceased as they saved their breath to scramble up and over the jagged rocks that peppered the mountainside.
‘I reckon we’re a good two-thirds of the way there,’ said Archie, standing on an outcrop and looking upwards. ‘Come on, race you to the ridge above us.’
An hour later, they reached the top of the pike. Breathless and panting, they stood side by side, exhilarated by their achievement. Flora walked slowly around the summit, surveying the magnificent view below them.
‘I read in a book last night that on a clear day you can see Scotland, Wales, Ireland and the Isle of Man,’ Archie said, appearing next to her. ‘It’s a shame we don’t have a photographer to mark the moment. Shall I help you up onto the cairn that marks the pinnacle?’
‘Thank you.’ Archie took her hand and steadied her as she mounted the huge pile of rocks then let her go as she spread out her arms and looked up to the blue of the sky. ‘I feel on top of the world!’
‘You are – at least in England,’ he laughed, reaching out his arms as she climbed back down towards him. He took her by the waist and swung her to the ground. Holding her there for a few seconds, he looked at her. ‘Flora, I do declare that you are simply beautiful when you’re happy.’
Flora felt the heat rising in her cheeks once more, as a mist suddenly swirled wetly around them and the views disappeared.
‘I’m starving,’ she announced to hide her blushes.
‘So am I. How say you we walk downwards back into the sun and eat our picnic there? Mr Turnbull tells me we should head northwest towards Lingmell; the way is well marked with cairns. He says the view onto Wasdale is quite spectacular. We can pause to eat there.’
‘Then lead the way to our sandwiches,’ she said, as Archie picked up his rucksack and they moved off the summit.
Twenty minutes later, Flora insisted she could go no further, so they settled themselves on a flat rock and Archie unpacked their lunch.
‘Cheese sandwiches have never tasted more divine,’ she murmured. ‘I only wish I’d thought to bring my sketchpad and charcoal with me. I must try to remember this view so I can recreate it on paper.’ Flora pulled off her cap so that her hair flowed around her shoulders and tipped her face up towards the sun’s warmth.
‘You have the most wonderful head of hair, I must say,’ said Archie, reaching for a strand and twirling a ringlet around his finger.
Something inside Flora’s body gave a strange little jolt at Archie’s intimate touch. ‘It’s as thick and strong as tow rope, and my mother has no idea where it comes from,’ she said. ‘If you slip and fall on our way, I’ll throw you a handful of it and you can use it to haul yourself back up.’
Flora gave a smile and turned to find Archie staring at her, a strange expression in his eyes. ‘What is it?’
‘It would be inappropriate to tell you what I was thinking. All I will say is that I find you delightful company in your current euphoric mood.’
‘Thank you. And I wish to tell you that I have finally forgiven you for almost killing me. Twice.’
‘Then we are friends?’
For a moment, Archie’s face was very close to hers.
‘Yes, we are.’
As they both reclined on the sun-warmed slab of rock, Flora decided she had never felt so relaxed in the company of another human being, which was quite a turnaround under the circumstances.
‘Where do you think your talent for sketching and painting came from?’ he asked.
‘I’ve no idea, but I certainly know who it was that inspired me. You can probably see her farmhouse from here.’
‘And who may this person be?’
‘She’s a children’s writer named Beatrix Potter. When I was seven, she came to Esthwaite Hall with her parents for tea. I was sitting in the garden trying to draw a caterpillar I had just found on a leaf and was comparing it to a slug. She sat down on the grass next to me, admired my caterpillar and asked if she could show me how to draw it. Then, a week later, an envelope was sent to me through the post. I was so excited: I’d never received anything addressed to me before. And inside, there was a letter from Miss Potter. But it wasn’t a normal letter, because it told the story of Cedric the Caterpillar and his friend Simon the Slug, and contained tiny watercolour sketches. It’s my most treasured possession.’
‘I have heard of Miss Potter and her books. She has become famous for them in the past few years.’
‘Indeed, but when I met her, she was not. And now she lives in Near Sawrey at Hill Top Farm, very close to the public house where you are staying.’
‘And have you made her acquaintance since she arrived here?’
‘No. These days, she’s so busy and famous that I don’t feel I can arrive on her doorstep without being invited.’
‘Does she live alone?’
‘I believe she does, yes.’
‘Then perhaps she is lonely. Just because she is well known does not mean she doesn’t desire company. Especially from a young woman whom she once inspired.’
‘Perhaps, but I haven’t yet worked up the nerve. She is quite simply my heroine. One day I hope my life will be similar to hers.’
‘What? An ageing spinster, with only animals and plants for company?’
‘You mean an independent woman of means who has been able to choose her own destiny?’ Flora countered.
‘You believe that your destiny is to be alone?’
‘As my parents did not see fit for me to be presented at court like my younger sister, I have settled to the thought that I will probably never marry.’
‘Flora’ – Archie reached his hand to hers tentatively – ‘the fact that you weren’t presented does not preclude you falling in love and sharing your life with a man. Perhaps there were reasons . . .’
‘Yes. My parents did not have the finances necessary, or the support of Aunt Charlotte, as Aurelia has had.’
‘That’s not quite what I meant. Sometimes, there are . . . circumstances which we may not be fully aware of, which affect others’ actions.’
‘You mean that I am not a beauty like Aurelia is?’
‘I certainly did not mean that! You have no idea how brightly you shine. Both outside and in.’