The Northwick Estate had an abundance of natural woodlands that curled around the perimeters of the grounds where the oaks and birch trees were allowed to thrive and not be tamed with the implementation of adamant groundskeeping. The trees and foliage rolled gently with the natural slope of foothills, bracken growing with a rich and prevalent greenness along the woodland floor.

Nicola spent many hours of her youth exploring the woodlands, weaving along the natural paths and trails caused by the habitual patterns of the variety of wildlife residing within, and she knew precisely where Jason Blackwood was heading in order to escape the frantic hustle and panicky energy of the Northwick Manor House, confirmed as she left the house and spied him disappearing into the shadows of the trees. She, herself, had planned to do exactly that and could hardly find fault with the lord for wanting to remove himself from a tension riddled situation.

She ran lightly through the foliage, light-footed and sure, her white skirts moving fluidly around her ankles and the small jewellery box tucked into one elbow. She hadn't time to return it to her chambers, hadn't time to think reasonably once her decision had been made, spurred forward by the rush of anxious excitement. The ground was dank and soft- a good thing considering the lightness of the silk slippers she was wearing- and the air a refreshing smell of earthy richness- damp moss, wet leaves and bark. The trees spanned shortly from the left of the property and the path wound through them for about fifteen minutes, depending on one's pace, until the sounds of the stream could be heard.

It was here that Nicola dropped to a low crouch, inching forward until she found the cover of a fallen oak. The part of the brook that expanded and deepened into a reasonably sized pool she remembered well from her childhood and other than the growth of the bracken over the edges, the area remained exactly the same as she recalled. Where she crouched presently, safely hidden behind the mossy, horizontal trunk, was about ten feet from the pool, and if she peered over the top, mercifully somewhat concealed by more bracken fronds, she had a marvellous view, indeed.

He must have run here, she realised, as she had not left much later than he had, and her pace had been abrupt, quicker than most. The reaction her body had to him was instantaneous and frightening. The breath caught in her lungs and her skin began to tingle with awareness, an ache clenching her lower abdomen with an awakening and foreign desire she couldn't quite identify. She had never seen another man in a state of undress before, but she was certain that Jason Blackwood would put most to shame. He was angled partly towards her, facing the right, and his torso was slick and shining from the water of the stream as rivulets streaked over the ridges and lines of his toned muscles. His shoulders were broad and strong, his chest tapering down to narrow hips that were submerged in the dark waters.

She almost sighed with scandalous delight. It was better than she had envisioned in her mind, countless times over as she replayed those moments from more than a decade prior, the moment that would jolt her nervous system various times throughout her youth and ignite her infatuation with the man. Nicola had never imagined she'd see him like this once more, had never thought she'd have the gall to actively seek out such a moment for the sheer thrill-

Something large dropped onto her shoulder and began to scuttle down the bare skin of her upper arm. Glancing to the side, her eyes widened in horror and though she just stopped herself short from screaming, a sound unlike any other she had made before shot forth from her lips at the sight of the huge hairy caterpillar that was making its disgusting way towards the top edge of her glove. She grunted something very similar to what a boar would make in a moment of distress.

It was loud enough that the man in the stream would have heard it and been alerted.

Nicola did not bother to check. Panic geared her limbs into flight and, caterpillar and all, she hustled back the direction she had come, on her hands and knees through the undergrowth like a wild thing. Her heart hammered violently, her knees and palms grating against the ragged roots and soft mulch on the ground. She lurched her body through that forest for all she was worth, crawling on her elbows and belly when the foliage grew thick and abundantly, until she skid down a short incline and crawled yet some more, rustling and thrashing through the bracken as if there were indeed a wild boar on the loose. She crawled and crawled until she came to an area where she knew the trees grew thicker together, her blood roaring through her ears, and only then did she allow herself to jump to her feet and bolt. As fast as a hare did she let her legs carry her through that forest, hitching her skirts high and positively soaring through the fronds and trees.

She exploded from the woodlands and lurched up the path on the left of the manor, up the stone steps that lead onto a gravel drive and then she threw open the heavy oak door and stumbled over the threshold, hands on her knees as large, gulping breaths escaped her burning lungs. Sweat gleamed on her skin, her hair wild about her face, and she spun quickly, remembering the man she was evading, and thankfully there was no pursuit, no handsomely naked lord trawling in her wake to demand the reason behind her espionage.

And no caterpillar, she noted after briefly checking over her appearance. Nicola laughed a bit hysterically at that. Mud and debris covered her pretty white flock, her gloves torn and tattered from her foray along the ground. She was a disaster and a passing servant confirmed this by simply stopping outright and gaping at her.

Rude.

"Nicki!" Blanche gasped as she came into the hallway from an adjoining chamber, her grey eyes wide with shock as she took in her friend's appearance. "What did you do- roll in the mud?"

Nicola gave her a pained smile and brushed a lock of wild hair from her forehead futilely. "I... fell."

The expression on Blanche's face suggested that the tumble Nicola had taken must have been from a high cliff and into a pile of sodden dirt. She rushed forward and began to shepherd her companion up the stairs towards her chambers, her arms giving her a wide birth just in case whatever soil was on Nicola's person happened to jump off and lodge itself on her own. "You simply cannot attend Lady Wilhelmina looking as you do," she said, her voice pitched. "I'll call for a bath, you best prepare a change of attire."

"Actually, Blanche, I fully intended to greet Her Ladyship dressed as I am," Nicola teased, "lest she think any higher of me than possible, my ruined dress may only confirm her opinions of me as some forlorn child of garbage."

"Hush." There was laughter in Blanche's eyes, however, as she corralled her companion inside her chambers. "If you need anything to wear, you can borrow something of mine-"

"You must be joking," Nicola interrupted, laughing. "Nothing of your tiny wardrobe would fit me and your dresses would only hang as low as my knees. I would look more ridiculous than if I were to remain in this popular sample fresh off the Paris fashion trend. I have the clothes that were packed and something suitable to greet Her Haughtiness in."

"Oh, do not start so soon," Blanche snickered. "We will be doomed before the afternoon has begun."

"Your grandmother is a beast to be feared," Nicola said. "Now go, I'll be presentable in no time."

Blanche gave her a sceptical look but left, clearly preoccupied with her own errand set by Lady Kathleen Blackwood to ensure the utmost perfection of the Blackwood Manor and its brood. The Dowager Marchioness was well known to find even the tiniest speck of dust an affront of the worst sort. Nicola fell just below that speck on the Dowager's opinion scale.

Shortly, a bath was drawn and Nicola didn't tarry. The mud and dirt was scraped from her skin with an abrasive harshness that almost compelled an angry red rash to linger on her arms and face. Her lady's maid, Clara, made quick work of her hair and, though she gave it her best effort, the mane of tawny-russet waves was under no obligation to be tamed, pins or no. After donning a pretty gown of dove grey with a scalloped neckline, matching lace gloves and a string of pearls around her neck, Nicola was as prepared as she could be to greet the formidable Lady Wilhelmina.

She was making her way down the stairs that lead to the main entrance hall, resplendently decorated with fresh arrangements of hydrangeas that were growing prolifically around the estate, when she noticed Jason entering. His eyes jolted with hers and her footing froze mid-step. His shirt was rumpled and creased, slightly damp in places, and his hair was dark and slicked back from his swim, and there, tucked under his arm, was something she hadn't even realised she'd forgotten amid the events leading up to this moment- a small wooden jewellery box.