Hideaway

As a scullery maid in the mansion of the Marquis of Arrington, Shae was no stranger to the trappings of wealth, but she seldom got to enjoy them for herself. The closest she came was on afternoons like this, when a note came to the kitchens requesting that Shae bring a basket of refreshments to the marquis’s hunting cottage, out in the wilds of his vast private lands. The note arrived, Shae worked with the other kitchen staff to pack the picnic basket, and off she went into the woods behind the marquis’s mansion, free to enjoy the luxury of private land for as long as her errand lasted. But little did her colleagues know that she was not bound for the hunting cottage–which was itself larger than any of their own homes–but rather for a small pond tucked away amongst the trees.

There, beneath one of the many willow trees that lined the banks of the pond, was a secret sheltering-place belonging to the daughter of the marquis, Lady Milena. In the shelter of the willow, scavenged wood planks created a makeshift barrier between those who would sit there and the muddy bank of the pond. Worn pillows and blankets in a variety of faded colors covered the planks and hung over sticks wedged between branches and against the tree trunk, creating an additional canopy. When Shae arrived, no one else was there. Only the wind in the branches overhead and the chirping of birds greeted her ears.

Undeterred, Shae settled amongst the cushions beneath the willow. It happened sometimes that Lady Milena, or Lena, as Shae called her, couldn’t make it here right away because of her official duties or some other delay. They’d been meeting like this for years, building the shelter as they went, and Lena always turned up eventually. Their friendship, begun in childhood before the circumstances of their births mattered quite so much, had outlasted far greater tests than one of them being late to a clandestine meeting.

Shae smoothed the kerchief holding her long dark braids back from her face, then rearranged her skirts and apron. The bright fabric of her clothing stood out against her shining dark skin and the shadows of the hideaway.

“Sorry I’m late,” Milena panted as she burst through the curtain of leaves around their hideaway. Her pale face was flushed from running, and her long red hair blew disheveled behind her. Her silk gown was tied up indecorously, allowing Shae to catch a glimpse of Milena’s ankle.

“You’ve lost your headdress,” Shae remarked, rising to greet her friend. Milena kissed Shae briefly on the lips, bringing heat into Shae’s cheeks.

“On purpose. I threw it in the horse trough. I hate that thing.” Milena dropped unceremoniously into the nest of blankets and cushions. “Did you bring snacks?”

“Cucumber sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, and apples.” Shae settled next to her basket again and started unpacking, laying provisions across a clean cloth between them.

“You’re the best. Thank you so much. I meant to be here sooner, but escaping from Lord What’s-His-Face was more difficult than I thought it would be.”

Shae handed Lena a sandwich and an apple, trying to ignore the gut-clench of jealousy that soured her stomach. “How is Lord What’s-His-Face? 

“He’s nice enough, I guess, if a bit old and dull for my liking. But he’s a man.” Milena wrinkled her nose in disgust before taking a bite of her sandwich. “This is divine, Shae. Just the thing for such a warm day.”

“Thank you, Lena. Zaya made them.”

“She’s a star. I keep telling Father to give her a raise. And you, too. Has that happened yet?”

Shae shook her head. “Not likely to happen at all, from what the staff say. A new hunting dog has recently arrived in the kennel.”

Milena rolled her eyes. “Of course. Because he didn’t have enough baying hounds for his sports as things were. There has to be at least two score in there!”

“I don’t doubt it. But what did your Lord Father and Lady Mother have to say about Lord What’s-His-Face? Do they mean for you to…” Shae couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.

“Probably. But Mother doesn’t like him any more than I do, so Father won’t press me about this one. Just as well. Good riddance to him.” Milena punctuated her scorn for the suitor by flicking a piece of eggshell peeled from a hard-boiled egg between the leaves of their shelter.

“I’m sure, in your Lord Father’s mind, you have to marry some nobleman,” Shae pointed out. Her gaze stayed on the cucumber sandwiches in the picnic basket. It was too hard to look at Milena while saying such things aloud. “If not this one, then who?”

“No nobleman at all. I want to marry you.”

Shae dropped her half-eaten sandwich into the basket and jerked her head up. Her deep brown eyes met Milena’s sky blue ones and Shae’s mouth fell open. Milena’s eyes were earnest, and her jaw was set with determination.

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. I love you. I will have no one else.” Milena scooted closer to Shae and took her hand, then leaned in. Their lips brushed and warmth flooded through both young women. “That is, if you’ll have me?”

“Lena, I love you, but there’s no way…” Shae pulled away from Milena and looked at their hands, still intertwined. Hers was dark-skinned with bitten nails and rough calluses from working in Lord Arrington’s kitchens, while Milena’s was ghostly pale and soft and delicate–the hand of a noblewoman. “Look at us, Lena, and think for a moment. Have you ever heard of two women getting married to each other in this country? Before we take into account that you’re noble and I’m not, and that there are laws against mixing races like this–”

“Being two women, we couldn’t have children together, so what does the law care about what we do?”

“I’ll be burned as a witch, Lena, as soon as anyone finds out about us. You know how it goes. They’ll put all the blame on me, no matter what you say.” Shae snorted with bitter laughter, thinking of stories she’d heard from the staff in other noble houses. Servants with her skin tone had been executed for less. “They might even burn me as part of your wedding celebration to whatever nobleman your father chooses for you.”

“I told you, I’ll have none of them. No one but you. Come here.” Milena pulled Shae towards her again, and Shae found herself powerless to resist. All the logic in the world couldn’t stand up to the way she felt when she’s with the marquis’s daughter. The two of them fell together in a tangle of limbs and lips and blankets, sheltered from the world by the branches of the willow tree above and around them. Sunlight and birdsong filtered in, providing an idyllic backdrop for the lovers’ tryst. They laid next to each other beneath the willow, pressed together, breathing each other in.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Milena murmured against Shae’s neck.

“So do I,” Shae admitted, kissing Milena’s forehead. “I just wish I knew how to make it possible.”

“We could run away. Disappear in the night, never to be seen again.”

“You’ve been reading too many stories, Lena. This place is on your Lord Father’s land. Those hunting dogs would find us before luncheon if we hid out here in the night.”

“I know.” Milena pushed herself up on one arm and pushed her messy red hair away from her face. She was so beautiful it hurt Shae to look at her, but hurt her more not to. “But it’s lovely to dream, isn’t it? While we’re out here, just the two of us, it’s easy to believe that dream could come true.”

“One of us has to be realistic.”

“I guess.” Milena pouted. “But do you have to be realistic right now? Can’t we pretend, for just a little while…” Her voice trailed off as Shae’s lips met hers again. They embraced once more, their picnic forgotten, caught in a magical moment beneath the willow tree.

“For just a little while,” Shae agreed. She could indulge in the fantasy for an afternoon, even though she knew it was unlikely that any of her dreams would come true.