Chapter Twenty-Four
Arrow Loops
We walk along the cobbled footpath towards the fortress, over what is now a dried-up moat, surrounded by rich green hills, with big, puffy, cotton-like clouds stretched across a brilliant blue sky. I stare up at the magnificent ruins of a castle on a hill, with the tall keep still spiralling upwards, and can’t help but feel it’s a perfect place to explore with Noah.
He’s holding one of my hands in his as we walk, the other hand holding Mila’s lead as she excitedly leads the way.
There’s a light breeze out, but my hair is held in place by the navy bucket hat I decided to wear today. As soon as Noah told me how cute it was, I knew I would pair it with my navy T-shirt embroidered with orange flowers and denim shorts for our outdoor expedition.
“What a view you get from up here,” he says, drinking in the ruins around us.
“Wait until you get inside the castle. You can see arrow loops.”
“What’s an arrow loop?”
“Where the archers positioned their arrows at the enemy,” I explain.
“Oh, that’s sick,” Noah says, his face lighting up. “We have to find those.”
“Wait, there’s more. There are also murder holes you can still see in the ruins.”
“How do you murder with a murder hole?”
“By pouring boiling water through it down on invaders.”
“Brilliant!”
“Hmm, I never would have pegged you as the bloodthirsty kind, Saucy Shorts.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Bloodthirsty. I haven’t even been called that on the pitch.”
I beam with happiness. I love that I can make him laugh like that.
“I’ve unlocked a secret side of you,” I proclaim.
Noah stops walking along the bridge and gazes down at me, with a different expression in his eyes. “Yes, you have, Violet. Parts I never thought I’d share with anyone. But somehow, you’re making me give them to you.”
“Does that scare you?” I ask softly.
“It should.”
“Should?”
“But not with you. Everything is different with you.”
I suddenly find myself breathless.
Because everything with Noah is different for me, too.
We enter the castle ruins, and both take out our phones to take pictures and film. The Corfe Castle ruins are absolutely amazing, and there are audio tracks playing at certain points so you can hear the history of the fortification. We take our time, listening to these, holding hands and carefully studying what was once a palace and fortress that has fallen into a magical ruin.
“An arrow loop!” I point out, going to the slot in the stone.
Noah leads Mila over to it, tracing his fingers over the spot where arrows were once aligned. “This is crazy,” he says, his voice full of awe. “Arrows were shot from here to attack intruders.”
“I know. It’s fascinating, weird, and sad all at the same time, isn’t it?”
“Do you know a lot about ruins in this area because of your interest in art history? I can only imagine how fascinated your brain must be by the palace that once stood here. Do you think about what kind of art and treasures must have been inside?”
I love that his question is so thoughtful. It shows he really does see me as a whole person, and I decide I’m not only going to acknowledge it, but tease him about it as well.
“Do you know what is special about you? You actually care about knowing me as a person, and not just a girl who lets you pick out her knickers.”
Noah instantly begins to colour a bit in his neck, a warm flush growing upwards.
“Come here,” I say, sliding in front of him and releasing his hand so I can frame his face with both of mine. “You’re so special, and I really think you have no idea how much.”
Then I kiss him, right here in the ruins of a keep in the rolling English countryside.
Noah kisses me back, then stares down at me. And I don’t feel a bit guilty that he forgot his sunnies and I get to look into his gorgeous eyes the whole time we wander around Corfe Castle.
“I think I can say the same about you, Butterfly.”
Le sigh.
“Let me take your picture next to that arrow slot, and then I’ll answer your question.”
Noah agrees, moving next to it, leaning his arm up over the top and smiling back at me.
I take that one, but have more ideas. “Now look out of it, like you are the one firing the arrow,” I suggest.
“How bloodthirsty do you think I am?”
I giggle at that, and he grins.
“Go on, it will make for an amazing picture.”
Noah complies, and the way he leans in and peers down through the ancient wall, down to the ground below, makes for a spectacular shot.
“We need some of us together,” he says. “Come here, Violet.”
I slide next to him, and Noah extends his arm out to get a shot of us.
“I want one where I’m kissing your cheek,” I say after he takes the picture.
“Are we taking influencer travel shots? Are you aiming to get some free travel for us with all these posed pics?” he teases.
I laugh loudly at that. “These are all for memory making. I want lots and lots of memories from this weekend.”
“Then let’s take it,” Noah says. “I’ll set my timer for five seconds. Pucker up.”
I burst out laughing and can’t stop, so our first take is me laughing like a lunatic and Noah making a face at me. But I love that photo, so I don’t let him delete it. On the next try we get the classic, my hand on his chest, his head dipped down, and my lips gently pressing against his cheek.
“Oh, we do have some lipstick stain, but it’s a nude peach so it’s not as dramatic as my red lipstick,” I say, gently rubbing the spot with my fingertips. “Now come on, let’s go find a murder hole!”
Noah throws his head back and laughs deeply. “I’ve never seen a woman so excited about a murder hole. This should scare me.”
I stop walking and put my hands on my hips. “How many women do you know who even know about murder holes?”
He quirks a playful brow at me. “Bella would. She’s into medieval history, remember?”
Oh. She would.
“But Bella, in addition to being Camden’s girl, is not the girl who fascinates me.”
Ooh!
“How come? She’s a princess. Gorgeous. Sweet. Educated. Has a job,” I tack on for good measure.
Noah shoots me a look. “You have a job, too. Don’t discount that.”
More feelings build within me for this man. How can I have all these feelings in such a short period of time?
Because he’s amazing, that’s why.
“Okay, I’ll allow that,” I say. “But if she were single, wouldn’t you find her fascinating?”
“As a friend? Sure. I really like Bella. But as someone to date? No. She doesn’t have that butterfly energy I didn’t know I needed until I met you.”
SA-WOON.
“Stop, you’re making me blush, Saucy Shorts,” I say happily.
“I think you like when I make you blush.”
Oh yes, Noah, I do.
I turn and look along the stone ruins and stop when I spot something. “Noah! Do you know what I spy with my little eye?” I ask. “A MURDER HOLE!”
I’m about to lead him over to it when I hear his name being called. “It’s NOAH DARBY!” a young voice says.
Noah’s hand flinches underneath mine. I quickly glance up at him, and I can tell he doesn’t even want to turn around to acknowledge the fact that he’s been spotted.
“However you want to handle this is fine with me,” I say, squeezing his hand in mine. “If you want to keep walking, we can, but if you want to acknowledge your fans, I’m one hundred percent okay with it.”
He exhales. “I don’t know how you are so understanding.”
I smile at him. “Because I’m special. You told me so yourself.”
The anxiousness etched in Noah’s face slips away and he turns around. I do, too, and I see a boy around the age of ten, wearing a Stonebridge United shirt, staring at Noah as if something magical from above just descended down upon Dorset.
“I told you, Dad, it’s Noah Darby!” he shouts excitedly.
The boy is with his mum and dad, with the mum holding the hand of a little girl who looks to be about five.
“I am,” Noah says cheerfully, moving over to the boy and dropping down so he is more on eye level with him.
Then I can’t believe what happens next.
The little boy starts to cry.
“I can’t believe it’s you,” he says, tears streaming down his face. “You’re my favourite player ever and I never thought I would ever get to meet you!”
Now I’m going to cry.
“Well, mate, I’m so glad we were able to meet up today. What’s your name?”
“John,” he says softly, still staring at Noah as if he’s a mirage.
Now other people begin to crowd around, but Noah zones all of them out to focus on John. “How about we take a picture together? I can sign your shirt if you want me to.”
“Oh, you’re so kind,” his mum says. “He will never forget this, Mr. Darby.”
I know she’s right. Noah’s kindness to this little boy is creating a memory for him that will live in his mind forever.
I offer to take the pictures with his parents’ phones, so they can all be in the picture and have multiple ones. Then I retrieve a Sharpie pen from my bag and Noah scrawls his name on the back of John’s shirt. He takes selfies with a few more people, and then we go back to the murder hole as other people go on their way to explore the ruins.
“You handled that so well,” I tell him. “You gave all those people something so special today.”
“It’s weird, because all I do is play football. I’m not curing cancer or figuring out how to feed the poor.”
“But football is an escape for people. A source of joy. Sometimes frustration,” I say, giving him a knowing smile. “You on that pitch gives them an escape from life. And I think it’s my turn to say don’t ever discount that.”
Noah stares down at me with amazement. “How did I find you?”
“At a bar.”
He groans at that, and I flash him a flirty smile.
“But I really didn’t notice you then, so we can say we met at a barbecue. Because that’s really when I met you, Noah.”
He puts his fingertips underneath my chin and tilts my face upwards. “Thank God for barbecues.”
Then he brushes the sweetest kiss upon my lips.
As soon as he steps back, I know exactly what to do.
“Come on, let’s go figure out how the murder holes work!”
And my reward for that line is to hear another wonderful deep-from-within laugh of happiness from Noah.
* * *
How is it that each day I spend with Noah gets better than the first?
Exploring Corfe Castle and making the long loop around it with Mila was so much fun this morning. We went down to the village below, found a dog-friendly pub, and had lunch on an outdoor patio. Then we took Mila back home and rested for a bit before heading back out to find a quiet place where Noah could show me some things about football. Because it is summer, a lot of the parks we came across had kids, and Noah said he didn’t want to share this time with me with anyone—children included—so we went back to Wintersmith Hall, where I could take him to our private garden, which visitors do not have access to.
Besides, by the time we arrived, the last round of tourists had been admitted to the house, so we drove around the back, entered through the private door, and I led Noah to the small garden that is just for us.
“Oh, this will work,” he says, dropping the football onto the rich green grass.
“Okay. I’m ready to learn. I know nothing.”
“Did you never play football in school?”
“Oh yes, but I thought it was a horrible sport and just kind of ran around the perimeters of the pitch, hoping the ball never came my way.”
This elicits another deep laugh from Noah, and my heart once again soars at the sound of it.
“Okay. I won’t get into all the rules today because that might make your head explode.”
“Thank you, I do need my head so I can pursue the art projects I have lined up.”
“Yes. I’ll just show you some moves with the ball.”
Noah begins, and my jaw is quickly hanging from a hinge, watching how quickly and expertly he’s moving the ball with his feet. I remember hearing a commentator talk about this in one of the YouTube videos I watched—what an expert Noah is with his foot skills.
Soon he’s bouncing it on his head, and as I hear the sound of the ball hitting it, I wince. “Can’t you get a concussion from doing that?” I ask, concerned.
“I’ve received concussions when I’ve knocked heads with another player,” Noah confesses. “The last one I had took me out of a game due to protocol.”
“As it should!” I say. “Protecting your health is so important!”
“Don’t worry, I’m protected,” he assures me as he bounces the ball again.
I’m not so sure about that, but I’m going to have to trust him on this.
“What other injuries have you had?” I ask, needing to know.
“The worst one was a hamstring injury before I was playing in the Premier League,” he says, dropping the ball back to the grass and dribbling it with his feet. “That took a long time to recover from. It was painful, but even more painful was being off the pitch.”
I swallow. I can see that. Football has been his salvation, and I can’t imagine how he coped when that was taken away from him.
“I was driven like mad during my recovery,” Noah continues. “It was a fixation with me. How can I heal in the fastest way possible? How can I get back to the squad? Because being away from the team was killing me inside.”
His found family, I think. Noah found his family in that changing room, even if he didn’t know it.
“It had to be so hard,” I say.
“It was. One of the hardest times I went through because I felt isolated again.”
Again.
Just like how his mother and brother isolated him, he felt taken out of the routine with the team. They went on to play, and he had to stay back, working on recovery—with only trainers and the thoughts in his head for company.
But that is changing now.
The life Noah had before didn’t have Camden in it as his best friend, on and off the pitch.
And now he has me.
I make another promise to him, one I will only tell him later if we continue to build what we are building now. I promise he will never go through anything like that alone again. I’ll be by his side. His champion. I’ll listen when he needs to talk and tell him what he needs to hear.
I’ll be there for him. For as long as he wants me to be.
“All right, Butterfly,” Noah says, juggling the ball on his knees, then his feet, and back to his knees again. “Let’s see what you can do.”
I practically shout with laughter. “I can tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not bouncing that hard thing off my head. It’s ridiculous you guys do that in the first place.”
He grins. “That’s fair. What else is a no?”
“Well, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to do what you just did.”
“No, you can.”
“No, trust me, I cannot.”
“What are you going to do today?”
“I’ll kick it.”
Now Noah is the one shouting with laughter. “I’m glad to see you are going to go out of your comfort zone.”
I back up from him, putting a good bit of space between us. “Kick it to me here, and I’ll kick it back to you.”
“You really did hide on the pitch, didn’t you?”
“Oh, shut up!” I giggle.
He flashes me a teasing smile. “I’m going to go easy on you.”
“For now. I don’t intend for you to go easy on me when there’s no football involved, Saucy Shorts.”
Noah’s eyes dance with interest. “I have made a note of that,” he says, kicking the ball directly to me so it lands perfectly on my foot.
I somehow manage to stop the ball. Then I take a few steps back from it and study it.
“Are you going to run at it?” Noah asks.
“I want to see how much power I have, and I think a bit of a start will help me out.”
“I see. Well, I’m ready when you are.”
I take a deep breath. I have no idea what will happen when I kick this ball, but as long as I don’t miss it, or land on my bum after kicking it, I’ll consider it a success.
I run up to it and put all my might into the kick. At the very same moment, I hear Nicholas yell, “DARBY!” and Noah turns his head to look at him.
And in that split second, I drive that football straight into Noah’s privates.
He immediately drops to the ground and covers his crotch with his hands.
My hand flies to my mouth. “Oh no!”
I hurry over, dropping down beside him, as he writhes on the ground, wincing.
“I’m so, so sorry! I just wanted to see how much power was in my leg!”
I hear Nicholas and Amelia hurrying towards us, and Noah stares up at me. “I hope you didn’t want children,” he quips.
GAH.
“Noah, are you okay?” Amelia asks with concern in her voice.
He exhales and sits up. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“Vi, just a bit of brotherly advice: Trying to wreck the crown jewels is not a way to make a great impression,” Nicholas says, grinning.
“Oh, shut up!” I cry, blushing. “Noah, I’m truly sorry.”
“It’s my fault. I’m a footballer, I should have been paying attention.”
“No, it’s Lord Knobship’s fault over here,” Amelia says, nudging Nicholas with her shoulder. “He’s the one who distracted you for no good reason.”
“I had a good reason. I wanted to talk to him.”
Noah draws a breath of air and stands up. I still feel horrible, but when he pulls down on the brim of my bucket hat and smiles at me, I feel infinitely better. “It’s all good,” he says cheerfully.
“Well, since you’re both here, we could hang out for a bit and all go to the pub together,” Nicholas suggests.
“I’ll drive. I have to drive us back to the cottage anyway. That way you all can drink,” Noah says.
“I’ll take you up on that. It’s been a long day of finding new leaks from the storms last night.”
I grimace. I don’t know how Nicholas will ever find joy in running this estate with the endless list of repairs, but he seems to have been born for it.
“Working here has been so eye-opening,” Amelia adds, looking at Nicholas with nothing but admiration in her eyes. “He works so hard. And I had no idea how many leaks a home like this could have at one time. And I mean none, and I even live on an estate.”
I watch them with a smile on my face as Noah engages them in conversation about Wintersmith Hall. Nicholas and Amelia are both animated in talking about their day, with Nicholas affectionately putting his arm around Amelia’s shoulders as they talk. Nicholas and Amelia were made for each other and have been since they met as teenagers. Once again I’m reminded of the stupid misunderstanding—and being too young to have the maturity to discuss and handle it—which kept them apart for years.
Yet here they are. It’s funny how life sorts things out like that.
I wasn’t meant to find my person that young. Or even at St. Andrews, despite going out on a number of dates. I didn’t find anyone back here in Dorset, or on my many trips to London.
Then Noah made a comment about pick and mix during a barbecue, and my whole world turned upside down.
Now I’ll see if more pieces of our puzzle fit together. Nicholas is my twin. Anyone I fall for would have to get on with him. There’s no debate about that. We are half of each other, and I cannot imagine being with a man he didn’t like.
Or a man who didn’t like Nicholas.
They are already friendly with each other, so we’re off to a good start. And from the way they are talking now, I’d say things are looking rather promising.
Going out this evening should confirm everything my head—and my heart—needs to know.
And my heart is already telling me another puzzle piece of Noah’s is going to fit perfectly in my life tonight.