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“If that’s what you would like to do, then certainly, but I wonder if I should have brought a book with me. I may be waiting at the exit for some time.”

“It is I who shall be waiting, and fortunately for you I am a patient woman,” Clara said. Gerald narrowed his eyes. In his mind, he traced back the route they had taken and was sure that his decision was correct.

“If you wish to make a mistake, then so be it,” he said, and directed the maid to follow Clara. Clara arched her eyebrows and wore a haughty expression on her face as they turned to the different paths and disappeared from each other’s sight.

Gerald’s footsteps were heavy. Clara was an infuriating woman. Perhaps it was better that this courtship was an illusion because he wasn’t sure how he would be able to have a wife as disagreeable as her. She was so used to doing things her own way that her habit was to speak her mind, and it seemed she had her own opinions about everything. She couldn’t admit when she was wrong, and this quality would only prove to be grating over the course of a lifetime.

“You’re welcome to her, Sir Lionel,” he muttered, though his heart sank at these words. He sighed and then cursed as his sleeve caught on a branch that had not been trimmed correctly. He checked his sleeve to make sure no blood had been drawn, and continued with a furrowed brow.

He strode forward powerfully, but soon enough the hedges around him became indistinguishable. A few voices drifted over them, but they might as well have been in another world. By this point he thought he should have escaped the maze. Trust Julian to make one that went on for far longer than was amusing.

Then, as he came to a forking path, he paused for a moment, recognizing it.

He sighed, shoulders slumping, for he recognized that this was where he and Clara had parted. The path he chose had been the wrong one. He looked to the sky in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t the fact that he had lost so much time wandering around that brought him so much discomfort, but more that Clara had been proven right.

Reluctantly, he turned along the same path along which Clara had walked, feeling more and more aggrieved with every step. He walked at a quick pace even though he knew there was no chance of catching her.

Eventually he reached the center of the maze. There was a straight path leading to the exit, but he stopped short. In the circular area, there was a small bench, upon which Clara was sitting. She hadn’t yet realized he was present, and so he took the opportunity to observe her while she was at peace. Her back was straight, and her hands were placed in her lap. Her profile was turned slightly away from him, showing him the right side of her face. He studied her dainty nose and the shape of her eyebrows, as though something new was revealed to him every time he stared at her.

A bird fluttered into the maze and settled near her feet. She bent down, trying to stroke it, but it hopped away, studying her cautiously, before flying away again. Only then did Gerald emerge.

“You have not made it to the exit yet,” he said. Clara rose, startled. A fleeting smile appeared on her face, but it did not linger.

“I thought it was more appropriate to wait for you here. I’m glad to see you made it, and you do owe me an apology.”

“Nonsense. My path was quick. I actually arrived here a few moments after we parted, but then I realized that my watch had fallen out of my pocket so I needed to retrace my steps, and all this time I have been searching for it.”

Clara smiled, but her eyes were doubtful as she walked towards him.

“Why do you find it so difficult to admit you were wrong?”

“I do not find it difficult.”

“Then say it,” she challenged.

Gerald stared at her, then glanced around. “Where is the maid?”

“She caught her hand on one of the branches. It left a deep gash. I told her to return and get treatment,” she said. “Now, will you say it?”

Gerald sighed. His throat grew tight, and he had never realized until that moment how difficult it was for him to admit that he was wrong. However, as he gazed into Clara’s eyes, something transformed within him. It was as though she were a weapon that could slip through his defenses and prick the deepest part of his heart.

“I was wrong,” he breathed.

She smiled, with more than a hint of wickedness. “There, was that so difficult?”

A lock of hair had fallen loose, falling against her soft cheek. Gerald was filled with the urge to push it back, so he did. His fingertips brushed against her skin, tucking the hair behind her ear.

A rush of breath escaped her lips as he touched her.

Clara’s eyes glistened like a meadow soaked with dew. Her lips were inviting. They called to him, a sweet song that he was powerless to resist. He found himself leaning forward, as though in this part of the maze an enchantment had bespelled him, and he would die if he did not taste the nectar of her lips.

“Gerald, no,” Clara said. Stepping back immediately, taking a hammer of reason to shatter the reckless emotion. She maintained control, while he lost his entirely.

“Here it is Jill! I told you we’d find it eventually,” a voice boomed, as if to remind them that they weren’t alone in the maze. Gerald’s hand floated in the air, his palm now devoid of heat. His lips were still puckered slightly, as though he couldn’t quite believe the moment had been robbed from him. Clara dipped her head and moved away as elegantly as if she had been dancing.

Gerald didn’t get a chance to plead his case, nor to apologize.

“Ah, you managed to find your way out as well. I daresay I feared we were going to be lost forever. Lord Winthorpe has a devilish mind to build such a trap.” The portly man dabbed his forehead with sweat. A taller, beleaguered woman shuffled after him, looking quite beside herself. They both smiled as they passed Gerald and Clara, eager to make the final steps away from the maze.