Chapter 2: Oreton Hall, Hertfordshire: October 1850

'Alfie! Wait for me, wait for me!'

Alfie laughed at her and ran along the path that led round the riverside towards the woods. Eleanor Farnham stopped and got back her breath - then, picking up her skirts, ran after him again. Oh, skirts - they were so annoying! Once she could have beaten him with ease, being smaller and lighter, but now she had turned sixteen, she had to wear volumes of bodices, drawers, corsets, petticoats and skirts that weighed her down and made her breathless. The arms of her bodice were so tight that they would rip if she wasn't careful. Fiddlesticks to growing up. Why were girls suddenly supposed to stop having fun and slow down and become ladylike and boring?

Her parents had always allowed her to run about on the Oreton estate with Alfred Eustace Percy Dillinger - to give him his full, exquisite naming - and his siblings since they were small children. Those were the happy days of freedom. Bundled up with clothes as she had been even as a small child, at least she had not had to wear corsets. In those days, she used to shed clothes as she went along in order to free herself from restrictions and run as fast as Alfie and his younger brothers, but she certainly couldn't do that now. Getting in and out of clothes was a tedious and lengthy concern.

She dropped her skirts and with a sigh began to walk along with more decorum. Alfie had reached the woods and she could hear his feet crunching over the fallen leaves, snapping on twigs and branches. He was still so carefree in every way; so happy and unrestrained. Yet she knew that things were changing for him too. He was studying at Oxford, but would be leaving in another two years and she knew that he was determined to find the kind of career that would suit his energetic nature. As the eldest son of Lord Percival Dillinger, he would eventually inherit these estates but it seemed unlikely he would ever settle to the quiet life of a country gentleman, any more than his father had done.

She came upon him, as she knew she would, in their favourite place in the woods. This was under an ancient oak tree some way into the depths. There at its mossy base he waited for her to catch up. He had thrown aside his jacket and waistcoat and sat now in his shirtsleeves, staring around at the trees, riffling the crackling leaves through his fingers.

'Poor Ellie,' he said, laughter in his dark eyes, 'you're puffing and panting like an old carthorse!'

'So would you if you had to wear all these foolish clothes!'

Taking her hand, he helped her to subside on the ground beside him, skirts spreading out around her like a fan. She wore a pretty dress and knew that she looked elegant and charming in this pose. Ellie surveyed the hated skirts with sudden satisfaction and pulled a ribbon into place.

'Women!' said Alfie, looking at her. 'Silly creatures you are, with all your frills and furbelows.'

'Men!' she retorted. 'Silly creatures you are with your swords and guns.'

They both laughed with the ease of familiarity. Neither of them could recall a time when they were not aware of each other's existence. Ellie's first memory of Alfie was beside her on a rug on the lawn when they were both babies, he kicking and moving and restless. He turned and rolled over so much at the time that he had landed on top of her, setting her off wailing and screaming. She liked to remind him of this now and then, scolding him.

'You can never be still, can you? No matter what happens - no matter what gets in your way!'

'I don't believe that ever happened. How could you remember such a thing? You're imagining it, Ellie.'

'It did happen. I remember it distinctly. I have a very good memory.'

Just now there was an air of quiet about him that pleased her. Such moments of peace together, times when they managed to elude parental supervision, were rare these days and she delighted in them when they happened. She watched his face, saw the chasing of thoughts across it and the movement of his eyes as he glanced here and there. It was like watching a cloud-filled, storm-tossed sky. Even when his body was still for a brief moment, his mind was moving and ideas tumbling over each other in his head.

'I love these woods,' he said, leaning back against the hard, ridged trunk.

Ellie sighed and touched the tree with her fingers, running them over the knobbly, scarred wood as if trying to communicate with the tree in some way. 'I love them too. We've played so many games in here, haven't we? Isn't it sad that we are supposed to be grown up now and can't play any more?'

He looked at her. 'Why shouldn't we play one last game of hide and seek? We'll call it our Last Game, shall we? A celebratory last game - then we can officially declare ourselves Grown Up.'

'What a mad idea! How on earth can I hide anywhere when these skirts are going to poke out on all sides of me and you'll see me a mile away?'

'I'll pretend I haven't seen you. I'll let you win as usual.'

'Oh, yes? That's a new notion. You want to win. You're a very bad loser, Alfie Dillinger. I'm the one who's always let you win.'

'Rubbish!'

'No, it isn't!'

'Oh, come on, Ellie,one last game?'

'All right. You're being silly, though.'

'It's the practice at Oxford. You have to be silly there.'

'So I gather. And to think the country's leaders are meant to arise from those hallowed halls.'

He helped her to rise again and she dusted herself down a little.

'I'll have to take care though,' she pleaded, 'this is a new dress. I mustn't tear it.'

'Oh, Ellie, your father likes to spoil you, you know that. He'll love the excuse to let you have another. Take it off if you're so bothered.'

'Heavens, Alfie, I can't do that!'

'I'll help you. Come on, have a last moment of freedom.'

She stared at him and suddenly they looked deep into each other's eyes. A sense of something important was in the air. They felt it between them. Childhood was slipping, had slipped away; they were now man and woman. It frightened them both a little. Ellie turned and he began to unhook her dress and eventually between them they undid the bodice and laid it aside and then did the same with the skirts and some of the petticoats and put them carefully on top of a bush, spread out to avoid being crumpled. She was now down to the camisole, which covered her corset and chemise and her last fine, cotton under- petticoat, her stockings and little buttoned up boots.

'The things you women have to wear,' said Alfie in some disbelief, 'how can you bear it?'

'If only we didn't have to. But I wouldn't dare say that to anyone else but you. My cousin Anne thinks I am shocking even to think of such a thing. She considers it wonderful to cover up from head to foot and be properly lady-like. Oh, Alfie, this feels splendid. So free ...yes, let's have our last game...our last game!'

She suddenly turned and ran off down a path, calling over her shoulder, 'I'll hide ...you find me if you can.'

Ellie ran amongst the trees and laughed to herself with the sheer joy of youth and foolishness. She wondered where to hide and tried to remember favourite places used before. It was such a long time since they'd played this game here in the woods. She was a lot smaller then and could hide in places that no longer concealed her. Where to go? Hearing Alfie in hot pursuit, she doubled back and ran to where they had begun by the oak tree, hiding herself behind its enormous trunk. Always a quieter creature of the woods than Alfie, who still crashed around unceremoniously, she giggled to herself to hear him in the distance, sending the birds flying upwards in alarm, rabbits scuttling off before him down the paths. He was hopeless at the pheasant shoot because he shouted and whooped so much he alarmed all the birds and his father had been angry and forbidden him to join in until he learned to behave.

'I do it on purpose,' he admitted, 'it gives give the poor birds a chance, you know.' She, however, knew him too well. He simply liked to create a stir and disrupt everything; he had a talent for it. She smiled to herself indulgently. Despite his faults, Alfie was full of charm and good humour and everyone always forgave him his high spirits.

The crashing about had ceased. Alfie had become quiet and she listened hard. No sound. Ellie waited, heart pounding.

She screamed as he came up behind her all of a sudden and seized her in his arms.

'Got you! Got you, young lady!'

She felt his arms slacken around her and her heart beat wildly. His hands moved over the hard bones of the corset under her camisole as if they were a barrier through which he strived to feel her soft flesh. It was a pleasant sensation, making her quiver inside with excitement. Now she felt fear and confusion. She understood what it all must mean, yet at the same time understood nothing and was afraid. They turned round to face one another. They were transfixed with one another's eyes for a long, long time. Alfie, closing his own eyes as if he dared not look, bent towards her and gave a swift kiss, then again, firm and lingering. Holding her tight with one arm, lips still on hers, he began clumsily to unbutton his trousers. They sank down together upon the soft pile of autumn leaves.

A short sharp stab of pain. The glorious hazy mist of delight that obscured her heart and mind lifted and cleared away with the shock. She seemed to realise that they were committing some sort of sin but didn't care anymore. There was no way she could stop now it had begun, nor did she wish it. Alfie's mouth was on hers and tasted like marmalade at breakfast or devil's kidneys - such strange thoughts that flashed through the mind even at a moment like this. He was inside her now, fully inside her own body and that was the oddest sensation she had ever known.

Ellie dressed with haste. Alfie, turning away from her, pulled on his trousers. They couldn't bear to look at one another. Suddenly it was all over and with the ebbing of the strong sensations that had brought them together like magnets, came the shamed realisation of what they had done.

'Ellie ...'he reached out a hand to her, but she ignored it.

'Ellie, I'm sorry. I led you to this. I'm so sorry.'

'Go away!'

Alfie hung his head, 'It's my fault. Now you're angry with me. But,' his voice held alarm,' we mustn't let anyone know, must we? Ellie, must we? Here take my handkerchief.'

He looked away as she cleaned herself then threw the handkerchief into the bushes. She was in turmoil - not sure whether to laugh or cry. It had been so strong, the longing, the utter need to feel him within her. He had always been a part of her heart and soul but now a physical part of her too. It hadn't felt wrong or bad to let him make love to her. That urgent and irrepressible need satisfied, euphoria was followed by remorse and fear - on Ellie's part at least. She felt that Alfie looked rather pleased with himself.

'It was wonderful though, wasn't it?' he whispered as they walked back to the house.

'I'm not sure. I have to think about it. I feel frightened now.'

'There's nothing to be frightened about. No one will know. You must say nothing to anyone. My father would kill me if he knew,'

'Your father! What about mine? Alfie, I am not stupid.'

Lord Dillinger and Ellie's father, Joshua Farnham, were away in London and thankfully, both their mothers were occupied elsewhere. Ellie didn't feel she would be able to face her mother; she'd be sure to give herself away somehow. She felt it was emblazoned upon her forehead ...I am not a virgin any longer.

As they approached the house they were greeted instead by George and Ben, Alfie's younger brothers, who sped up to them as they always did, demanding that they participate in a game of cricket on the lawn or a ramble over the fields.

'Where've you been such ages?' demanded George, 'We've been looking for you.'

'In the woods, I expect,' piped up Ben in all innocence, 'they're always in the woods.'

Alfie and Ellie looked at one another, their minds occupied with the same idea. Suppose the youngsters had found them! Alfie laughed aloud at the thought. He had no fear, his brief moment of shame already evaporated. Ellie realised he saw it as a huge joke. In a way, she admired this fecklessness but at the same time felt a little angry, her heart beating at the thought of their narrow escape.

They were allowed to join their parents at dinner later and it was a relief not to have the younger boys or little baby Charlotte chattering around them all the time. As Ellie picked at the food on her plate, her mind still awhirl with anxiety and remorse, she knew she was not a silly fun-loving girl any more. How could it be that a mere physical act could make her feel so different inside? She couldn't bear to look at Alfie and their usual laughing and joking died in silence that evening. He tried hard but Ellie could not bring herself to respond as normal.

'You're very silent tonight, Eleanor,' said Lady Mary looking at the young girl anxiously, 'I trust you have not caught a chill, my dear.'

Ellie looked up from the half-eaten food on her plate and put down her fork.

'I am not too well, Lady Mary. Perhaps ...perhaps I am feeling a little chilled by the autumn air. Maybe I'll lie down after dinner, if you have no objection?'

'Good heavens, of course, my dear, of course.'

'I'll send Mulhall up to you with a little broth later,' said Maria Farnham, looking anxiously at her daughter. 'It's not like you, dearest. You're usually so robust.'