Taken By You For Me

A twisted take on a little girl growing up in the late nineteenth century. This novel takes place over several decades, and the content matures with the character. Not yet finished, work in progress.

Chapter 1

The 'Prince' In the Window

It was such a lovely melody that carried through the wood, accompanied by an ensemble of rustling leaves and bird calls. It was not something one expected to hear while picking flowers and mushrooms, and being a curious little girl, Iris decided this was something to be wondered at and investigated. She followed the sound this way and that, straining her ears for direction, lifting the hem of her frock to step carefully over the messy forest floor. Her nurse, Miss Amaryllis, would surely scold and lecture should she return to the bungalow untidy again. But the music, trickling as if out of someone's beautiful dream, was too enchanting. Fairies or even fauns were sure to be afoot. 

Presently, the woods thinned, and Iris found herself at the edge of carefully tended grounds upon which stood a very large house. It looked so like a castle out of a picture book that for a moment the child stared in wonder, forgetting her disappointment at the lack of fantasy creatures. The music was coming from a partially open window in the house, just under the branches of a plum tree. Iris stole across the grounds, scurrying from hedge to hedge and quite forgetting about her goal to keep her clothes clean.  

The music was very clear now. Iris recognized the crisp notes of a piano being played. Slowly, on tiptoe, the little girl crept up to the open window. It was too high up to peek into, even when perched on an overturned flowerpot. For a few minutes Iris stood under the window, mind working. If only she was taller. Her gaze settled on the plum tree, noting how low its branches began; just within her reach. Without hesitation Iris flew at the tree and, catching hold of the lowest branch, swung herself up. Her skirt snagged as she climbed, and her hair ribbon caught on a thin stray twig, but this went unnoticed. Iris climbed until she reached a satisfactory height, then slithered like a serpent along a branch until at long last she was able to look into the window. 

Because of the angle, Iris couldn't see the musician fully, but could make out pale yellow curls and the starched white cuff of a gentleman's shirt sleeve. It was impossible to tell what manner of gentleman it was, but Iris supposed that it was a prince. All princes had golden hair, did they not? A shift in the music interrupted her musings. The tune became wistful and wonderfully melancholy, with slow tinkling high notes accompanied by a blend of low mellow chords. The sounds cascaded over each other like a rainbow waterfall, if there were such a thing. She was certain there was. 

Iris was also certain she had never heard anything sound so beautiful. She lay on the branch listening for a long time, watching the one hand move back and forth along the ivory keys with smooth, expert movement. It was so soothing that her eyelids began to flutter. Some time later Iris jolted awake, roused by the sudden silence. Her gasp of surprise turned into a shriek as she slid off her perch. She clutched instinctively at the branch, halting her fall. 

Near the grand piano stood a young man, holding a cup of tea and staring at her. He looked quite astonished at the sight of a girl dangling like a monkey outside his window. Panicked, Iris lost her grip and plunged with a very unladylike scream into the grass below. Fortunately it wasn’t a terribly long drop, and the child only suffered a few bruises. She was able to jump to her feet directly, hardly noticing a torn stocking and the leaves caught in her hair. 

"Good lord!" The young gentleman was leaning out the window, looking down at her. "Are you alright, miss?"

Iris began running away as fast as she could, little feet flying over the grass. 

"Wait! You might be hurt! Come back! Please come back!" 

But Iris only ran all the faster, sprinting across the grounds back into the woods. She found the little brooke that marked the edge of her home, and followed it quickly all the way to the bungalow, bursting through the front door as if a lion were after her. 

"Ahh!" Miss Amaryllis nearly dropped the paintbrush and palette she held. "Miss Iris, what in heaven's name! What have you done to your clothes?" 

Iris glanced down at herself, suddenly self aware. She tried to brush some of the dirt smudges off her frock. "Oh. Well, I was in the woods just beyond the garden, and--" 

"Oh nevermind! Let's get you washed and changed before someone catches sight of you! What would Mrs. Fay say if she saw you in such a state! Or your uncle for that matter! Why, they'd send me packing in a minute!" 

Iris sighed and allowed the woman to drag her along by the hand up the staircase. On the way up they passed several portraits hanging on the wall. One held a likeness of her parents, who had died when she was four. Iris did not miss her parents, though she could remember them a little. Her father and mother had been lavish, foolish people who cared mostly about parties, travelling, high society, and each other. They'd scarcely remembered they had a daughter, though they had often brought her along on their travels in the care of servants. Iris was not exactly sure how her parents had died, only that they had been touring countries in Africa when she'd been told by a nurse they would not be coming back.

Miss Amaryllis fussed as she removed twigs and leaves from the girl's hair. "Utterly unladylike! Why, we shall run out of dresses at this rate! Just because your uncle is rich does not mean you don't have to mind the things he's given you!" 

Iris held her arms over her head so she could be undressed. She did not understand what being rich meant, but knew her uncle was, because grownups were always saying so. She had been sent to live with him at his manor in the English countryside after her parents died, and every summer Miss Amaryllis would bring her to this bungalow. Just a carriage ride away from a seaside beach, this pretty little house was also owned by her uncle, though he never visited. 

Her uncle was a pale, bald, grim old man who did not have a wife or children, and had no idea what to do with little girls. He had left all details regarding Iris's upbringing to his strict and proper head housekeeper, Mrs. Fay, who in turn had hired her nurse, Miss Amaryllis, the only adult in the world who seemed to care about Iris at all. 

Iris gasped as Miss Amaryllis took a pitcher of water from the washstand and poured it into a basin. "That water is from this morning! It’s far too cold!" 

Miss Amaryllis dipped a sponge into the washbasin. "You should have thought of that before powdering your nose with soil. Hold still." 

Iris grimaced as her face was washed with icy cold water. "Ouch! You needn't scrub so hard!" 

"Put your hands down."

Iris scowled the entire time Miss Amaryllis cleaned her up and put a fresh clean frock on her. "There. Keep yourself clean for a change, why don’t you!" 

"You are the one with paint on your chin." 

Miss Amaryllis peered in a nearby mirror and quickly wiped the paint off. "Don't be impertinent. Now go read a book or play with your dolls until suppertime. There's a good girl." 

She flounced out of the room with the washbasin while Iris threw herself on her bed. She looked about her room, lavish, colourful, and full of grand toys, yet so empty. It was a familiar sensation, as Iris spent the majority of her time alone. With a sigh she rolled over and picked up a book from her nightstand. It was her favourite, a book of fairy tales written in French. Despite being so young, she was very well read, not to mention fluent in French, German, and even a little Egyptian Arabic. This was mostly due to having such a wide variety of servants from various countries throughout her young life. 

"If only, if only fate brought me a friend," she sang softly to herself, "These dull empty days never quite seem to end. No place feels like home for the beggar and I. Though fortune's been kind I am ever so lonely. Not a thing I can do, if only, if only." 

The following day Miss Amaryllis took Iris to the beach. The child loved the ocean, and was always making up stories about the creatures that might live in it. "Suppose," she said to some of the other children who were playing on the sand that day, "suppose deep in the ocean there were cities, like London and Bristol. And suppose people lived in them, different from us, ones that could breathe underwater." 

"Like mermaids?" A girl her age asked brightly. 

"Ridiculous," a boy slightly older scoffed. "Mermaids aren’t real. Nothing can breathe underwater except for fish."  

Iris fixed him with the calm, thoughtful gaze that made grownups say she was a queer, old fashioned little creature. "The oceans are ever so big," she began slowly. "There might be cities, and people that live in them. We just don't know, because it is too deep to explore. At least right now. But someday we might be able to go to the very bottom, mightn't we, and then we would know for sure." 

The children stared at her. 

"You are barking mad," the boy stated matter-of-factly. 

"At least I have manners," Iris shot back haughtily, causing his face to flush. With a curse that made their young ears tingle and their mouths fall open, the boy got up and strode away. 

"What a horrid boy," another girl remarked. "Wait til I tell my mother what he said. She knows his mother." 

"Tell us more about the ocean people," the first girl pleaded. 

"How would they eat?" A little boy spoke up, having been listening nearby. "Suppose they open their mouths for a bite and swallow a bucket load of water!" 

So Iris shared with them what she supposed the citizens of these underwater cities were like and how they lived, until all too soon the children's nannies and parents came to collect them. 

"My word but she's a strange one," Iris heard one of the mothers murmur to the other as they were leading their children away. "I've not seen my girls sit so still even in church." 

"She does seem to know how to capture an audience," the other woman agreed. 

A pair of nannies were also talking about her. "I don't believe she is English at all; did you see her complexion?" One remarked in a hushed tone that was not actually quiet. 

"Yes, unfortunate little dear," the other replied sympathetically. "A foreign child taken in by a wealthy family no doubt. And did you get a good look at her eyes?" 

"Downright unnatural. She'll grow up eccentric, mark my words. We'd best keep our charges away from her in the future." 

Iris continued playing in the sand as the women walked out of earshot, face flushed. It was true she was odd-looking, having inherited her parents' dark olive skin and long, thick black hair that liked to curl every which way. She had her mother's high cheekbones, narrow nose, and sharp little chin, but one of her eyes was a brilliant shade of green with a burst of gold radiating outwards from the pupil, while the other was a deep vibrant blue. They stood out in her swarthy little face, and she didn't like them at all. In fact, Iris firmly believed she was very ugly, but it still hurt that other people seemed to believe it too. 

When they were back in the bungalow, Miss Amaryllis continued with her painting, and Iris wandered outside once more. She was so lost in thoughts that she did not notice her feet had taken her back to the castle where the golden-haired prince lived. All was quiet, and there was no one in sight. Iris sat down under a rose bush and waited, placing her favourite doll in front of her. 

"What's that, Heidi?" Iris paused, looking deep into the realistic glass eyes framed with lashes. "Why, we're here to listen to the music of course." 

She paused again, head tilted as if listening in earnest. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady." Iris wagged a finger in the doll's face. "You needn't worry about us being found out. Now, are you going to keep nagging at me or shall I tell you a story?" 

The little doll gazed back at her silently, and Iris smiled. "I thought so. Alright then." 

She launched into the story of Der Glasberg, or The Glass Mountain, a Polish fairytale translated to German. It was about a mountain upon which grew a tree with golden apples. If one was able to climb this glass mountain and retrieve an apple, it would grant the picker access into a golden castle where there lived an enchanted beautiful princess. 

"Knights from all over the world tried to get to the top," Iris gushed dramatically, face shining the way it always did when she was lost in another world. "But they all failed, and there were ever so many corpses at the bottom! Isn't that positively gruesome?" She squealed in delight. 

She had just gotten to the part where a schoolboy, who had killed a lynx and attached its claws to his hands and feet to climb the mountain, was being swooped upon by a giant eagle when music started playing from the castle. Iris immediately paused her story and eagerly looked across the grounds to the open window. The tunes were even more sweet and mysterious than before, and Iris, forgetting poor Heidi, got up and crept closer to the window. 

She could not help it. The delicate music sounded so lovely, it was simply impossible to not draw nearer, and nearer, until she was right underneath the familiar window. This time however, she didn't try to climb the plum tree. She simply sat underneath it, leaning her back against the tree trunk, and began to absently braid together long pieces of grass and flowers. Iris had made an impressive wreath by the time the music stopped, causing her to sigh. 

"Like waking up from a dream," she murmured, arranging the flowery crown around her head. 

"Hello again," a voice said, quite close.

With a start, Iris looked about, but there was no one in sight. 

"Up here, Miss." 

Iris glanced up to find the young princely gentleman half hanging out the window above, grinning down at her. Iris scrambled to her feet. 

"Don't be frightened, I'm not angry," he rushed to assure her. "Please don't run away. I don't mind if you listen. I have no one to play for, you see." 

Iris hesitated, glancing up at him with an uncertain expression. "Oh. Y-you haven't?" 

The young prince shook his head slowly, a wistful expression on his face. "No. You see, I've actually been forbidden to play." 

Iris gaped up at him in astonishment. "What! But why?" 

"My grandfather doesn't like it," he confided. "He believes music is a distraction from education, and he wishes me to attend University." 

"Yunny-veer-sssity?" Iris was not familiar with this word. 

"It is, shall we say, school for gentlemen," the prince explained. "My mother and aunt want me to go too. That's why they sent me to stay with my grandfather for the summer, so he could see to it that I devote myself to my studies." 

Iris cocked her head and squinted at him. "But you don't," she pointed out. "I heard you playing yesterday too." 

The young gentleman gave a sheepish shrug. "Yes well, when my grandfather is out and my tutor has left for the day, I like to sneak into this parlour for a bit of fun." 

Iris's imagination was already in full swing. "So you are a trapped prince, kept from your magic piano by an evil sorcerer!" 

He laughed so hard at this that Iris thought he might fall out the window. "Evil sorcerer!" the princely gentleman crowed, glowing with mirth. "I shouldn't wonder!" 

Iris's neck was getting tired from looking up, and she rubbed it. The young gentleman noticed this and exclaimed, "By thunder, where are my manners! Would you care to come in?" 

Iris hesitated. "I should like to, but won't your grandfather be cross if he returns to find me here?" 

"He won't be back until tomorrow, and I must admit it's dull as tombs all by my lonesome. Won't you come and have tea with me?" 

"I really should be getting back . . ." Iris's voice trailed off as she glanced back toward the woods. The young gentleman looked so disappointed that she couldn't help changing her mind. "But suppose I could visit for a little while."  

"Come round to the front door and I'll meet you there!" 

Iris did as he said, running around to the front of the castle, which was so big it took her a long time to reach. When she got there, she had barely made it up the front steps when one of the grand wooden doors was opened, and the young prince greeted her cheerfully. 

"Do come in, Miss . . . Forgive me, I don't believe we've been introduced."

Iris skipped into the lobby and dropped a pretty curtsy. "Iris. Iris Fiore. And you’re a prince, aren’t you?" 

The young man bowed, eyes twinkling. "I am flattered you think so. My name is Dimitrious Wingrave, but please call me Dimitri." 

"Pleased to make your acquaint---" 

Before more could be said, two dogs came bounding up to them, barking and tails wagging. "This is Jupiter and Juno," Dimitri informed Iris quickly. "They won't hurt you, I promise. They are just excited to make a new friend."  

Iris giggled and covered her face as the beautiful Collie dogs sniffed and licked her. "That's enough! Go lay down!" Dimitri ordered the animals. "Lay down!" 

One dog obeyed immediately. But the slightly bigger one continued to sniff her. "Jupiter!" Dimitri spoke sharply. "Down!" 

The dog quickly lay down on the floor. Iris wiped her cheeks, beaming. "Such pretty dogs you have!" 

Dimitri bent low and offered her his arm. "Why thank you, Miss Iris. They are my grandfather's, but I like to think they prefer my company to his."

Iris took his arm with a smile, and they walked together through the hall.  "I must beg your pardon again, Miss Iris. It has been a long time since I entertained a guest. Especially a young lady." 

Iris waved a hand in dismissal. "Nevermind that, I’m not a stuffy prune." She looked up at him as he chuckled to himself. "How old are you, Dimitri?" 

"I'm nearly eighteen," he replied with a smile, ushering her into a luxurious parlour. "And you, Miss Iris?" 

Iris spotted the piano, and her eyes lit up at the sight. "I've just turned seven years old," she replied, "but the way my nurse fusses, you would think I was still an infant." 

As the servants prepared tea, Iris and Dimitri talked. Iris couldn't help stealing long, curious looks at the princely gentleman from time to time. He was very handsome, with his fair hair and honey brown eyes. He dressed like a grown man, and was tall enough to pass for one, but something in his boyish, kind face made her feel like he was still a child too. 

As they ate little sandwiches, cakes, and pastries, and sipped hot, sweet cups of tea, Iris asked her new friend many questions. Dimitri was from London, where his mother, aunt, sisters, and brother lived. His father had died a soldier in the British Armed Forces years ago, and his mother had remarried a young bank teller, which his Grandfather and Aunt were not happy about. 

"It's ridiculous," he stated wearily, more to himself than Iris. "My mother is happy, and my stepfather has given her four more children to love. But because I am the only son of my father, I am supposed to be this perfect, sophisticated heir and uphold the family name or some such nonsense." 

Iris watched him rub his forehead in dismay, and quickly put down her teacup to hurry to his side. "Please don't be upset, Dimitri. You needn't be perfect. There's not a soul on earth who is, to be sure." 

Dimitri lowered his hand to look at her with a smile. "You are right about that." 

"Grownups like to pretend they are perfect," Iris continued, "and put on airs to impress, but I don't think it's worth it. Why, I dare say I'd rather spite everyone by doing what I liked, instead of feeling miserable all the time." 

Dimitri looked at her for a long moment, but not the way most people did. He looked intrigued. "May I tell you something? You have very beautiful eyes, Miss Iris. I don't think I've ever seen anything like them before." 

"When I was very little, I heard a lady say that my green eye was of the devil. So I asked if the wart on her chin was of the devil too. She called me insolent and complained to my mother." Iris tossed her hair over her shoulder in defiance. "I wasn't as insolent as she was." 

Dimitri burst out laughing. "You do have a peculiar way about you, that's for sure and certain."

Iris considered his words carefully for a long time, and Dimitri began to worry he'd offended her. He was opening his mouth to apologise when she spoke. 

"I think perhaps," Iris began slowly, "my thoughts and ideas only seem queer because no one else has had them." She paused again. "I do have some thoughts that aren't odd. Thoughts that other people have. Like what I should like to eat, what I should wear each morning, and whether or not it will rain. But those aren't very interesting thoughts." She looked directly at Dimitri with that bright, serious expression she always wore when she'd figured something out. "I do believe that if a thought is not so common, the more strange it seems. And the more people think the same thought, the more dull it becomes. Wouldn't you say?" 

Dimitri just blinked at her, looking a bit lost. "Well, I . . . I suppose I would." 

She smiled with satisfaction and went back to her seat to finish her tea. This time, Dimitri asked her all manner of questions, which she answered, telling him all about Miss Amaryllis, her uncle, her late parents, and all the countries she'd been to. She even spoke to him in French, and found he was fluent in that language as well as Italian and Russian.

Then Iris asked him to play the piano again, which Dimitri graciously complied to. She was having so much fun, she didn't realise how late it was until she glanced out the window and noticed how dark it was. 

"Oh no!" She sprang up from the plush armchair, eyes wide. "Miss Amaryllis! She must be in hysterics by now! I must go!" 

Iris bolted out of the room. Dimitri followed and quickly caught up. "Wait, it's too dark for you to go through the woods! I'll take you home." He whirled and grabbed the arm of the closest manservant passing by. "I need a horse at once! Quickly, now!"   

Within minutes a horse, saddled and bridled, was standing in the front courtyard. Dimitri lifted Iris into the saddle, then swung himself up behind her. "You say your bungalow is on the other side of those woods?" 

"That's right." 

Dimitri grabbed the reins. "I know the place. Hold on tightly!" 

Iris clung to the horse's mane as they took off at a fast canter, leaving the courtyard behind for a dirt road. The ride was only a few minutes long, but Iris was thrilled. She had ridden an elephant before, and also a camel, but this was far more exciting. She enjoyed it so much that when they arrived at the bungalow, flushed and wind-blown, she forgot she was in trouble until Miss Amaryllis came flying out, holding her skirts in her hands. 

"Iris Sofia Fiore!" The governess shrieked. "Where have you been!"

Dimitri slid off the horse. "Please don't be angry with her, Madame. It's my fault she was out so late." 

Miss Amaryllis starred as Dimitri lifted Iris out of the saddle and placed her gently on the ground. "And just who are you?" 

"My name is Dimitrious," Dimitri bowed deeply. "I happen to live nearby, just beyond those woods. My most sincere apologies for causing you to worry. I assure you it was quite by accident." 

After he explained about Iris listening to his music and inviting her to tea, Miss Amaryllis seemed to calm down, and even began to fuss at her hair and paint-stained apron. "Well I . . . I suppose there's no harm done," she stammered, "though I'm afraid I've already sent for the Inspector. He's due any minute." 

"I would be happy to stay until he arrives to explain the situation," Dimitri offered. "My grandfather, Lord Wingrave, is well known by the local authorities." 

Iris saw Miss Amaryllis' eyes grow wide. "Wingrave? L-Lord Thomas Wingrave?" 

"The very same, Madame," Dimitri confirmed dryly, "though he would likely deny it under the circumstances. He would be most aggrieved if he knew I had invited Miss Iris into his home without her guardian's permission. Disgraceful behaviour, I know. If you wish to press charges I will completely understand." 

Miss Amaryllis fluttered her hands in the air. "Oh no, no, good gracious no, there is no need for that! The child is safe enough, and looks none the worse for wear. Do come in and have supper with us, please. Iris seems to have taken a liking to you--" indicating Iris clinging to Dimitri's wrist with both hands, "and we might as well wait for the Inspector inside as opposed to out in the night air." 

They went inside and sat down to supper. Miss Amaryllis and Dimitri did most of the talking while Iris pushed food around her plate and yawned. When the Inspector arrived with a sergeant and several constables in tow, Dimitri told them what had happened, and they found the story most amusing. "Well so long as the girl is safe and sound," the Inspector declared jovially, "that's enough for me. Good night!" 

After the police and Dimitri left, Miss Amaryllis gave Iris the scolding of her life. "Why, I ought to take a switch to you! How dare you pay an unsolicited visit to a neighbour! A gentleman at that!" 

Iris appeared to be listening solemnly as she was washed and dressed for bed, but really she was thinking about the horseback ride, and the feeling of flying through the night. 

"Don't ever wander off again without telling me, do you hear? Or I shall pack our things and take you back to the manor post haste! You can be sure Mrs. Fay will have something to say about your misadventure. No doubt she'll take away your desserts for a month!" Miss Amaryllis turned to find Iris fast asleep in her chair, and sighed. "Oh bother." 

*******************

The summer weeks passed by in a delightful frenzy after that night. Iris no longer crept through the woods, but waited at the bungalow for Dimitri to come fetch her. This was something he had arranged so she would not unwittingly run into his grandfather or tutor, who still were not aware of the little girl's visits. 

"Let's keep it a secret," he'd said to her, not long after they'd met. "My grandfather and tutor would think I'm mad as a hatter for having a little girl as a friend." 

Accompanied by Miss Amaryllis, the two would often go riding together, either on horseback or in Dimitri's buggy, and visit all manner of interesting places. Sometimes Dimitri even took them into town for an afternoon of spoiling. 

"Pretty little girls deserve nice things," he would say after getting the child toys, games, some sweets, or a book she fancied. "That's what my stepfather tells my younger sisters." 

Iris thought about that for a long time, because something about it troubled her. "Only pretty little girls?" She replied slowly once. "What about little girls who aren't pretty? Or the poor ones in rags who beg for pennies? Don't they deserve nice things too?"

Dimitri had contemplated this. "Yes, yes I think so. It's just they've no one to give them nice things. It's quite sad really." 

Apart from deep conversations filled with odd topics, Dimitri and Iris enjoyed playing all sorts of games, flying kites, boating, fishing, swimming in the sea, attending the theatre, and eating their meals together, always under the watchful eye of Miss Amaryllis. One of Iris's favourite activities was when all three of them would act out scenes from the books she liked. The child was very much a dramatic method actor, transforming herself so thoroughly that it frightened her nurse at times. 

"Are you alright!" Miss Amaryllis cried after Iris took a realistic tumble and landed with limbs bent at a most gruesome angle. 

"Of course I'm not alright, I've been beheaded," Iris whispered back loudly. "Your turn, Dimitri!" 

Dimitri cleared his throat, trying not to laugh. "Ah yes. Ehem. 'We hope the dreadful example of this wretched youth shall . . . Um, the example of this wretched youth must instil within---" 

Iris raised her head. "No, no! You're meant to say, 'we hope the dreadful example of this wretched youth may produce a lasting warning to the world at large.' "

"My apologies, Miss Iris," Dimitri chuckled.  

Iris rose up on her knees indignantly. "What are you laughing at? A boy of twelve has just been executed." 

Miss Amaryllis gave her a warning look. "Now, Miss Iris, I think that's enough play-acting about death. Why don't you show Dimitri your new Abelia shrub while I prepare tea? Then perhaps he will play the piano for us before he takes his leave." 

Iris was still miffed at the crude interruption of her story, but got up and led Dimitri out into the garden. She showed him the plant, smothered in clusters of fragrant pink and white trumpet-shaped flowers.

"Hummingbirds and butterflies love them," Iris informed him as she watered the plant with her tin watering can. "Especially Monsieur Arcenciel.” 

“Who?” 

Iris pointed to a particularly colourful hummingbird slurping greedily at a blossom as it hovered in place. “I named him Arcenciel. That means Rainbow.” 

Dimitri watched the tiny bird dart here and there. “It certainly does . . . Exactly how many creatures are you friends with?” 

“Well, there is Scowl�" he is an old black cat who always looks cross. I gave him some sardines once and now he visits all the time.” 

“You don’t say.” 

Iris glanced about, then wiggled her finger at Dimitri to come closer. He crouched down so she could whisper into his ear. 

“I feed the mice too. Don’t tell Miss Amaryllis.” 

Dimitri snorted with laughter, but quickly put a hand over his mouth. “You have my word, Miss Iris.” They shook hands. “There mustn’t be a single animal alive that does not adore you,” he remarked with a smile. 

“Bees do not like me, and I'm not so fond of them either,” Aris replied, tensing as one buzzed a little too close for comfort. “But my books say they are good for flowers, so I try to hold still and not swat at them when they are near.” 

Dimitri looked at the rest of the garden, lush and vibrant. "You like gardening a lot, don’t you?" 

"I like planting things and watching them grow," Iris replied, relaxing as the bee drifted away.  “But not like in a normal garden where everything is neat and tidy. If I had my own garden, I would let the plants grow wild wherever they liked, so when they blossomed, it would look like Miss Amaryllis's apron; all splashed with colour!" 

Dimitri gave her a light pat on the head. "You shall have such a garden someday, I'm sure of it." 

"With a birdbath, and a fountain. Oh and a swing; I must have a swing." 

"Oh by all means! What hath a garden with nary a swing?" 

The two continued to talk and laugh as Iris removed dead or damaged branches, thinning them out to encourage new shoots until Miss Amaryllis called them for tea. It was the most fun time Iris could remember. There were some days during which it rained and they had to stay indoors, or when Dimitri could not come visit. But all in all it was wonderful. Dimitri even brought Iris leftover cake from his birthday party. 

"I would have invited you," he told her, "but Grandfather would never have allowed it. Rest assured you did not miss much. I didn't even like it. Too many people I didn't know, and too many silly girls pestering me. I have much more fun with you. Will you sing me that song again, the one about the pearls and the sea?" 

So Iris began to sing in a nice, little voice. "The sea hath its pearls, and the heavens hold Mars, yet nothing compares to you," she sang innocently. "Carry your dreams in a sparkling crystal jar, until together we make them come true. All foul things will melt away, there is nothing to be had but bliss. Time is ours for the taking, my heart here will stay, as we bask in the pale moonlight’s kiss."

Iris beamed brightly at the prince, to find he was looking at her with a most comical expression. "Was it very bad?" She asked, somewhat embarrassed. 

"No. It was perfect. However, you have a bit of something just here. Do allow me." Dimitri reached over with a napkin to wipe some frosting off the little girl's nose, and they laughed. 

Then one day, all too soon, it was time to go back to the manor. Miss Amaryllis had booked them train tickets for the following morning, and packed up their trunks and suitcases. But Iris could not bear the thought of returning to a lonely, dull existence cooped up in that dreary place. For the first time in her life, she threw a tantrum.

"No! I won't go back! I won't, I won't!" She clenched her little fists and jaw, and ran into the garden where she climbed the tallest tree, one whose branches she knew Miss Amaryllis could not reach.

"Iris! Iris, come down here at once!" 

But no amount of threats, bribes, or pleadings could coax Iris out of the tree. She stayed there all day, refusing to come down for tea or supper. It was nearly sunset when Iris heard voices and footsteps approaching. 

" . . . Beside myself, I am," Miss Amaryllis was gushing hoarsely, wringing her hands. "But she simply will not come down! I've tried everything; she's never behaved like this before." 

"Please allow me," replied Dimitri's warm voice, then he called up, "Iris! Iris, are you there?" 

Iris peered down through the branches at him from her perch. 

"It's growing awfully cold out here; won't you come down?" 

Iris bit her bottom lip, conflicted. "I can't," she answered finally. 

"And why ever not?" 

Iris sighed. "I'm in the crow's nest of a sinking ship." 

"Ah," Dimitri replied thoughtfully. "And a captain must always go down with the ship, isn't that right?" 

Iris nodded. 

"I see." Dimitri turned to a bewildered Miss Amaryllis. "Miss Amaryllis, I'm afraid we have no choice. It'd be frightful bad form if she were to try and escape now." 

Iris did not see it, but Dimitri flashed the nurse a sly wink, which she understood. "Oh. Oh dear me, I suppose you're right. Well, goodbye then, Iris! God have mercy on your soul! And mine," she muttered as she hurried away back into the bungalow. 

Dimitri, however, remained under the tree. "Permission to climb aft, Cap'n?" 

"Aye," Iris agreed. 

Dimitri deftly swung himself up into the tree, and climbed to where she was perched. "What a sight," he remarked, looking at the view of the grounds below them. "For a sinking ship, that is." 

Iris didn't reply, but sat staring out at the sunset with a strange expression. 

"What is it, Capt'n Iris? Enemies afoot?" 

"Shh." Iris held a finger to her lips. She spoke in a whisper. "Do you hear that?" 

Dimitri listened hard for a minute, head tilted. "I'm afraid I don't hear anything," he whispered back.

"That's because time is about to stand still." 

"Is it?" 

"Yes." Iris's whisper grew softer. "Just before the sun slips below the horizon. Then nothing will move, or breathe. Everything will stop, and stay just as it is. Watch." 

Dimitri looked at her with sympathetic eyes, but said nothing. Together they watched the sun sink lower and lower, until just a portion of orange-gold still shone above the distant hills and treetops. All the birds had stopped singing. Utter silence consumed the atmosphere, and nothing could be heard except the faint stir of the breeze among the leaves. Iris visibly held her breath, and did not let it go until the last glowing sliver of sun had disappeared. 

Finally she exhaled heavily, panting for breath. "Did you feel it?" She whispered, dazed. "Did you feel it stop?" 

Dimitri ducked under a branch and climbed close enough to put an arm around her. "You know, I do believe I did." 

"I wish I could stop time. Then I wouldn't have to go."

He cocked his head. "Is your uncle's manor really so bad?" 

"Rather," Iris admitted. "There's nothing to do, and so many rules; no exploring, no touching anything, no shouting, no running, no playing in the dumbwaiter--" she paused. "Even outside there's nothing but moors, and they're quite ugly during the winter." She turned her head to look up at him. "At least you will have a brother and sisters to play with when you return to London, won’t you?" 

At this, Dimitri couldn't help a chuckle. "My sisters are not nearly as active as you, Miss Iris. And my little brother is away at boarding school." When Iris looked worried, he laughed again and hugged her. "God love you, you needn't worry about me. Would you like to know a secret?" 

Iris perked up immediately. "What kind of secret? Is it a big one?" 

"The biggest," Dimitri answered with a mischievous grin. "My grandfather expects me to go to university this winter, but what he doesn't know is that I've enlisted." 

Iris' eyes grew round. "You mean, you've joined Her Majesty's Armed Forces?" 

"Yes. Can you believe it?" Dimitri was as giddy as a schoolboy. "I can scarcely believe I had the nerve myself, but it's done! I shall be shipped out for training in a few weeks." 

"Why it's perfectly thrilling! Just imagine all the wonderful adventures you'll have . . . ." Her voice trailed off as she realised he would be having those adventures without her. 

Dimitri sensed she was growing sad again. "You'll have your own adventures too," he assured her. "And when we meet again, we'll have loads to tell each other." 

"Will we meet again? For sure and certain?" 

Dimitri smiled, took her hand and placed something in it, a little velvet box. "Open it." 

Iris did, and inside was a little gold ring with a shiny, pale blue stone in the flowery centre. Iris' mouth fell open. "Oh my. Oh my goodness!" 

"It's a moonstone," Dimitri informed her, taking it out of the box and sliding it onto her finger. "The ancient Romans believed it was formed from the light of the moon. It's considered a sacred stone in India, you know. They believe moonstones allow you to see the future." 

"Does it really!" Iris held up her hand to admire the ring in wonder. 

"Not only that," Dimitri continued in a mysterious tone, "moonstones were believed to, on the rare occasion, make their wearers invisible."

Iris was breathless with intrigue and fascination. "Oh thank you! I shall wear it always! Thank you Dimitri!" She threw her arms around his neck, nearly causing them both to topple out of the tree. They laughed, then Dimitri squinted down the tree, realising it would soon be too dark to see the branches. "I do believe the time has come for us to let go of the ship, Capt'n Iris. We don't want to be known as the cowards who clung to the mast, now do we."

"Perhaps we won't drown. Perhaps a great fish will swallow us whole, and we'll be trapped in its belly for days on end." 

Dimitri chuckled. "That may very well be. Here. I'll go first so I can catch you if you fall. Slowly now." 

They made their way down the tree, and Demitri lifted her to the ground. "One more thing," he said seriously, crouching down beside her and taking her ringed hand in his. "This ring has another magical quality. If you are ever in trouble, and have no one to help you, send me this ring, and I will come to you, no matter where you are in the world." He leaned close and whispered loudly, "Even in the belly of a giant fish." 

They laughed, then Dimitri took Iris's hand and walked her to the bungalow. Miss Amaryllis thanked Dimitri profusely for his help and praised him so fervently he flushed red. 

"I have little sisters of my own back home," he confided goodnaturedly, "and they're not so easy to put at ease as Miss Iris, I assure you." 

Dimitri stepped back, taking a long look at the two standing in the doorway. "Well! I'll bid you goodnight ladies, and seeing as you leave early tomorrow, also fare well." He glanced down at Iris meaningfully. "Don't forget what I told you, Capt'n Iris." 

Iris offered a salute, smiling at their secret. "I shan't. Goodbye, Dimitri." 

Dimitri took her hand and kissed it, then did the same to Miss Amaryllis. "Goodnight! Goodnight! Parting is such sweet sorrow." With a laugh and a wave the golden-haired prince was gone. 

Author's Note

I try to use proper British/UK English spelling since the story takes place in the UK. Also keep in mind this story is unfinished. I will post bits and pieces as time permits, and yes it is a long book. Feel free to voice any thoughts/feedback/criticism with that in mind.