When he had asked for her company to the Castle, it had purely been out of curiosity. He wanted, needed, to know why in her presence he was relieved and free, eager to try and even dare to fail. After the horse ride, while she was talking about her return to her relatives' home and finally to Ireland, he had elicited a promise from her to meet him every day before the departure, and everyday unfailing, she had kept her promise.
It was the fourth day after he returned from the Castle, and as the night before, Charles waited for Beth to join him for another nightly rendezvous as he drank his wine directly from the bottle. The windy evening did little to lower his body temperature, for the wine warmed him already. Sitting there, at the top of their hill β as she had called it β he finally agreed to himself that he would miss the Irish woman when she returned home.
