Thomas was all at sea the next day, lethargic and distracted. He had eventually, after much wandering around the house, seated himself at his desk to write. His attention captured for a while by the distant firs lining the edge of the lawn. He had shaken himself out of his daydream, back into the present, to the task in hand, but found his gaze pulled skywards evermore. The birds wheeling about the treetops like the thoughts in his head he could not shake. It was no use, after much time had elapsed, the only mark he had made on the parchment was a spot of ink that had dripped unnoticed from his quill nib. Thomas stared at the spot for a moment, the otherwise blank page daunting,sapping any unique or poetic words form his mind. Eventually he replaced the quill but left the parchment on the desk, sighed heavily and stood, absent-mindedly drifting down to the stables.

Fussing over his horse,he brushed and fed her an apple stealthily taken from the kitchen. "Oh Imperatrix," he breathed into the horse's neck,resting his forehead against her mane. "How lucky you are to have been born a horse! Your life spent cared for with every comfort provided, this beautiful landscape your home and playground. Freedom and safety, never knowing heartbreak." Thomas wrapped his arms around her neck, gripping a fistful of mane in frustration and breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet smell of hay and warm hair. "Oh to be a horse!"

Imperatrix reached for the hay in a rack on the wall after her apple, chewing with eyes half closed, soothed by Thomas' presence and unmoved by his turmoil. Her ears flicking occasionally at his outbursts but unconcerned by the anguish of her master, or anything else beyond the hay in her rack. Thomas stood back, ran a firm hand lovingly down her neck and sighed, admiring her elegance and strength. One day he'd write a poem about horses, the beauty of wild horses, running free on the plains of some far flung country. A poem of freedom and forbidden love.

He pulled on her halter, led her out into the yard where he tacked and mounted her,they leisurely made their way down the lane and into the fields beyond. This was not a time for speed, there was no great passion or urgency felt by Thomas today, instead he was quietly reflecting on the events of last night. The ball he was unimpressed by, it being Byron's doing. From anyone else Thomas would have readily conceded the house was magnificent, the ballroom spectacular, the musicians finely versed in their craft and the music perfectly befitting the occasion. He could not have faulted the wine or the canapés on offer, but knowing they were Byron's, Thomas could not praise them -or the evening that unfolded.

That is, except for the events that occurred outside of the ballroom, in the walled garden,far away from the bright lights, the loud music and the crush of bodies – and most importantly Byron himself. Thomas would have been content had he been granted solitude in the garden to while away the evening. As fate would have it, he was considerably more pleased when he was joined by the most graceful company among the roses.

He slouched in the saddle, body rocking to the natural rhythm of his horse's plodding hooves, lazily picking through the meadow, Imperatrix happy to be out in the fields and Thomas lost in the world of yesterday.

The first sight of Elizabeth, he remembered fondly, the way she stepped close enough to be seen and her features illuminated in the moonlight. She shone brighter than had she been under the glare of the gaslights on a London theatre stage. Even the moon herself could not adequately highlight a beauty such as Elizabeth, her light was powerful, so perfectly flattering it could only be emanating from within. Her light shining from her very core of being, her soul.

Her delicate laughter floating in the air between them, her eyes warm and friendly, without a trace of apprehension or dislike at being in the company of a stranger. The glint in her eyes had suggested a world of possibilities, any outcome from that night. No. He could not allow himself to think like that, she was betrothed to another.

However...

The way she spoke to him, the way she danced with him, their closeness last night suggested a distance between herself and Byron. An ill match where she would find no happiness. The solution was simple, Thomas had found a soulmate in Elizabeth, he would care for her and love her until her dying day and beyond. She was a lady who was his very model of perfection, far too good to spend her life with the likes of Byron, who deserved no happiness in marriage. The thieving git.The solution therefore was so obvious to Thomas, the betrothal should be broken, Byron left to rot in his mansion alone, leaving Elizabeth free to marry Thomas instead. Happily ever after for them both and to hell with Byron.

Thomas gritted his teeth and raised his head skywards, showing the tears in his eyes only to the clouds. "I cannot bear it," He choked, "a pox on them all! apart from Elizabeth. I'm going to drown myself in the lake!" He realised the futility of this statement as soon as he said it aloud and instantly regretted it. Awkwardly he leaned forward and patted Imperatrix's neck reassuringly. "I obviously won't drown myself in the lake, but that is how I feel." He sighed deeply.

Why couldn't he have met Elizabeth before Byron? Before their betrothal? Why couldn't he have been at her side in the ballroom last night? Then every night,for evermore. Thomas had so much passion to bestow, his words could woo any lady, but the only lady he desired was promised to another, a lesser man.

His frustration boiled in his veins, finding the energetic clarity he'd been missing all day, he gathered his reins and dug in his heels. Imperatrix,always swift to respond, lengthened her stride and stretched her neck forwards, obeying the urgent command of "Onwards! Onwards!"

Horse and rider gathered momentum through the meadow and along the river road. The tears in Thomas' eyes had cleared enough for him to notice the group of villagers about the cross the bridge ahead of him. He was unable to stop himself from urging his horse forwards as he shouted "MAKE WAY!"

One of the group jumped over the low wall before the main arch of the bridge, Thomas heard the splash as he fell into the river with a degree of guilt. Satisfied they'd all escaped unscathed, although mostly shaken and one definitely wet, Thomas' thoughts turned back to the lady of the previous evening, the lady of his life.

For he knew he would never find another like Elizabeth. He would never feel for another what he felt for her, could never love another the way he loved her.Despite them meeting only hours ago and spending precious few moments together, he knew that experience was the pinnacle of his life. The memory of Elizabeth haunted his dreams last night, his every waking moment since, twirling in his mind as they had danced in the moonlit tranquillity of the garden. He would give his life, his every moment still yet to live, for just one more moment in her arms.

Thomas raised himself in the stirrups, crouching over the withers as he urged Imperatrix forwards, a different meadow now, not another soul to consider. His only company were the memories in his mind, to be whisked away by the wind. If only he could gallop through the pain, quick enough to leave behind the unfairness, the indignity, the feel of her soft hair against his neck.

He could not gallop faster than his whirring thoughts, could not outrun or escape his memories, his desire, his frustration at society and it's stifling rules. The unfairness of his situation haunted him, he could not runaway or leave behind the insistent shouts in his mind, loud enough to be heard over Imperatrix's hooves striking the earth. What if....what if...what if...

He could no longer contain the shout that welled inside him. All thoughts focused on Elizabeth, the image of her sharp in his mind while everything else in the world fell away into the distance, as blurred as the hedgerow she galloped alongside. He opened his mouth to release the tension and let out the only exclamation that came to mind, the last phrase to pass his lips. "MAKE WAY!"

There were no physical barriers to him here in the meadow, any animals would have already fled at the vibrations of Imperatrix's thundering hooves. Instead Thomas was screaming at the metaphorical barriers in his life, the circumstances that prevented his happiness. He shouted at the social rules that bound his class, bent him and all others to it's inflexible will. He was bound from head to toe, as if trapped in a sack tied by rope, unable to wriggle free or ignore the bindings biting into his skin. His escape was simple, he needed to be free to tell Elizabeth of his feelings, she would reciprocate and they could be together, if it wasn't for society they could be free to live as they wished. Elizabeth was the one lady he had ever truly desired and she was out of his reach. Forever.

He longed to see her again, if not forever, for one more evening in the walled garden. A single chance for him to speak his truth, to be face to face with her, arm in arm. He would exchange the rest of his life, his very existence on a single meeting. One more evening with her. One more dance. A look, across a ballroom, for her to know the depth of his love.

The peaceful tranquillity of the land shattered by the horse fervently driven forwards by her anguished rider, as if chased by demons or running after a dream just out of reach. His love just in front of him, tantalisingly close, but simultaneously as distant as the stars. The frustration inside him causing him to urge Imperatrix on throughout his suffering, hoping to gallop through the pain and emerge at the other side healed, or at least with clarity to move on.

Thomas finally came to his senses and pulled Imperatrix up, slowing her to a walk for most of the way home. His guilt for pushing her too hard manifested in more apples for dinner and an extra rub down, he checked closely for any signs of injury before stabling her for the night and instructing a groom to keep a close eye on her. He strode back to his room,where he ignored pleas from his parents to join them downstairs, he was too upset and angry to face company.

He had been moping for weeks, unable to contact Elizabeth, he had begun taking regular trips into town in the hope of crossing her path, but to no avail. He knew he must be stealthy in his search for her, if Byron found out he would ensure Thomas was punished for bestowing unwarranted attention on a lady betrothed to another. A crime of the upper classes, a major social faux pas that would not go unnoticed and would see him unwelcome at balls in future. He must be subtle and keep his feelings hidden.