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At the advanced age of twenty, Park Jimin had been sent to his aunt and uncle in Devonshire with the aim of finding him a husband.
As a second son, his fate was sealed from birth, he shall marry and preferably marry well, so that his family could acquire new good acquaintances in the person of his future husband and his naturally well-off family.
For weeks, the young men had been made to hop from garden parties to fancy dinners, meeting countless men of good upbringing and enjoying the company of very few of them.
He could easily deduce from the many letters his aunt hastily wrote to his mother and the quick responses that she read shaking her head in despondency that his picky demeanour was not pleasing his relatives.
Jimin, nonetheless, deemed himself a romantic and not at all a young man opposed to the idea of matrimony. True love, however, was for him required to marry and he refused to consent to a loveless companionship, as so many of his relatives had consented to. It was a shame more than it was his own fault that an agreeable well-bred man was so difficult to come across.
He had been living with his aunt and uncle for two months when they were invited to tea by a close neighbour, Sir John. The man was a close friend of his uncle and Jimin could only hear praises about him as they walked to Barton Park in the fine weather of an early afternoon.
“Mr. Willoughby will be part of the party,” his aunt mentioned in a way she must have thought to be nonchalant enough not to arouse suspicion. “A very fine young man. You should try and talk with him, Jimin.”
Jimin had no chance to avoid his aunt’s new attempt at matchmaking, for he was introduced to Mr. Willoughby the second he stepped into the John’s large house. The man was not only young but he also had an undeniable gracefulness, which would have almost been charming if not for the falsehood that seemed to slip from each of his smiles and which made Jimin hurriedly find the excuse of playing the pianoforte to escape it.
Of all things, playing the pianoforte and singing were those that brought the most enjoyment to Jimin’s otherwise rather dull life. As his fingers glided on the keys, he forgot for an instant the loud chatters surrounding him and the thread of a loveless marriage constantly hovering over his head.
He had been singing for quite a while when he resigned himself to return to polite society. However, as he was turning around to stand up, his eyes caught a man staring at him from across the room. A glass of liqueur in his hand, he seemed to have been enraptured by Jimin’s performance, although standing in the middle of constant conversation and a general disregard for art from the other guests.
A sudden warmth rose to Jimin’s face under the scrutiny of the gentleman’s eyes, which were curved in a way akin to those of a cat and glowing with a calm cleverness. By way of a praise, the stranger raised his glass with an appreciative smile, only contributing more to the redness spreading on Jimin’s cheek.
The name of this man, he was only made aware of it later, after some ladies persuaded him into playing cards.
“I did not know Colonel Min would be joining the party,” a Miss Steele whispered to him as she was shuffling the cards. She glanced at the man, who was now conversing with Sir John by the window. “How sad must it be, to be thirty-five and still a bachelor, don’t you think Mr. Park ?”
Jimin could not tell if the jab was aimed at him or at Colonel Min, perhaps Miss Steele was happy to insult them both in a single sentence.
“He is not even poor,” she added, to Jimin’s annoyance. “I heard he has two thousand a year and a very handsome estate in Dorsetshire. Perhaps it is his dreary character that scared off all the suitors.”
She laughed at her own jest but Jimin’s attention had already been stolen away by a ray of sunshine illuminating Colonel Min’s handsome features in a way that made Jimin’s heart race painfully in his chest.
To his dismay, the man chose this very instant to turn his gaze away from the view and stare right back at him. Jimin flushed, hurriedly picking up his discarded cards, his quivering fingers making some of them fall off the table.
As he straightened up after having collected the cards off the floor, he could not resist glancing over at the man, who was still looking at him, a small smile on his lips and a knowing look in his eyes. Jimin quickly turned back to the game, filled with shame of having been so easily caught but also with a certain excitement fluttering in his chest. A bachelor, Miss Steele had said, he was not married.
The afternoon wore out, the candles were lit and the whole party was invited to stay for dinner. Jimin ate little, his mind far too distracted by the presence of Colonel Min although the man was merely eating at the other end of the table.
His anxiety only grew when, after dinner, the party moved to the sitting room and his uncle introduced him to the colonel, despite Jimin's attempt at fleeing toward the pianoforte as soon as he noticed the two gentlemen.
“Are you enjoying Devonshire, Mr. Park ?” Colonel Min asked with courtesy. Jimin almost missed the words with how pleasantly deep and warm the voice that had uttered them was. He lowered his gaze.
“I enjoy the scenery a lot, Colonel. It is quite different from home.”
“My sister lives in Sussex,” his uncle added and the colonel nodded.
Jimin could no longer keep his eyes down, eager as he was to look closely at the man. Colonel Min looked a confident man, his neat and sharp appearance only softened by the loveliness of his features as well as the delicacy of his curled hair. He seemed to Jimin the most handsome man he had ever had the pleasure to meet and the thought only made his cheeks a shade pinkier than before.
“Mr. Willoughby plays beautifully tonight, does he not ?”
The three men turned to Jimin’s aunt who had appeared by their side as if by magic, if by magic one understood two men being too enthralled by each other to care about anyone else and the third being too busy emptying his glass.
Unsettled, Jimin turned to the pianoforte where Mr. Willoughby was playing, although not poorly, rather ponderously a mundane ballad. It appeared clear that, despite not being a man of art, he was trying with all his might to impress the young ladies giggling behind their fans on the sofa.
Colonel Min chuckled. “While Mr. Willoughby is a fine player, I do pity him for following such a prodigy like your nephew, Mrs. Park.”
“Do you play, Colonel ?”
Nobody was as surprised as Jimin himself by the suddenness of his question, the young man lowered his gaze once again to escape the look of disapproval of his aunt, who had been about to answer the colonel. Still no embarrassment could overshadow the gratitude he was feeling deep in his heart for the colonel’s praising his playing.
“Colonel Min is the best player I know of,” his uncle replied good-naturedly. His lack of reproach toward Jimin only encouraged the young man in his boldness.
“Would you like us to play some duets once Mr. Willoughby feels tired of entertaining us, Colonel ?”
Colonel Min examined him with a gravity that seemed to be designed to protect his own heart more than it was to discourage Jimin’s interest. Jimin dearly hoped he could discern his sincerity behind his shyness in place of mistaking it for simple courtesy.
“There is nothing I would enjoy more,” the colonel finally said in a low voice, his eyes never ceasing their thorough scrutiny.
Jimin’s overwhelming desire to please the man he felt so deeply pulled toward was however soon betrayed by his trembling hands after they both took their seats at the pianoforte. Colonel Min’s face softened at the sudden realisation that the younger man was not only genuine in his interest but much anxious not to make a misstep.
“Little do I dare picture the diligence you had to demonstrate,” he smiled slightly, “to make those small fingers of yours play such difficult pieces with such ease.”
“Are you taunting me, Colonel ?” Jimin could not act as offended as he had wished in front of the smile slowly stretching the colonel’s lips.
“You will forgive me if I do so, for your beauty is only enhanced by your blushing cheeks, whereas they respond to praise or offence.”
“In this case, I would rather you praise me, Colonel.”
Jimin began playing as a way to avoid showing his treacherous reddened cheeks and the colonel soon joined him with a soft laughter. They played so well together that one would have thought they had been practising for months. Never playing had ever felt so easy to Jimin, never so enjoyable and when his uncle reminded him they would have to walk back to Barton cottage soon, his heart sank in his chest.
“It was a pleasure playing by your side, Mr. Park.” Colonel Min smiled, offering his hand to help Jimin stand up.
The skin of his hand was a little rough, a pleasant feeling against Jimin’s own tender palm. Although the touch was gone as quickly as it had come, it left the young man with heated cheeks and a strong desire to make sure he would see the other again.
“You should come visit us, Colonel.” His courage wore off at the same time as his voice when he met yet again Colonel Min’s attentive eyes. He stammered, alarmed at the sudden thought of the colonel having only paid a polite and patronising attention to him so that not to embarrass him. “M-my aunt owns a pianoforte we could practise on.”
“Or perhaps we could go for a walk.” The colonel’s words, said in such a deep and caring voice, filled Jimin with a relief so strong it almost brought him to tears. “I ache to see the scenery you were telling me all about.”
Only his uncle's arrival prevented Jimin from making a fool of himself by throwing himself in the colonel’s arms but it did not prevent him from smiling from ear to ear as they were saying their goodbye.
The last look Colonel Min gave him, he kept it next to his heart the whole night, and then the following day and could not focus on anything else until two days after, when Colonel Min finally presented himself at their door.
He would not spend more than one day not visiting the Park’s cottage after that. Closely chaperoned by Jimin’s aunt, they both wandered outside on the hills, talking about poetry and music during long conversations only the golden gleam of the setting sun could interrupt.
One week had already passed when they were caught by a storm. They hurtled down the hill toward the cottage under heavy rain and, despite Colonel Min’s hand firmly holding his, Jimin slipped and hurt his ankle in his fall. His pain was only worsened by the humiliation as he sat on the muddy soil, his clothes stained and wet.
He was only convinced to look up when the colonel’s gentle hands wiped his cheeks, a vain attempt under the pouring rain but not quite a vain attempt at stripping Jimin’s heart from its burning shame. The older man insisted on carrying him down the hill, an offer he could only decline a few times, weakly enough to suggest well enough the willingness hidden behind his manners.
It was fortunate that being so tightly carried in the colonel’s arm made Jimin feel so warm that he had not to fear catching a cold. His twisted ankle only became a reason more for the colonel to dote on him as their daily strolls turned into indoors reading in order to spare Jimin’s ankle.
“Please Colonel, tell me more about your home,” Jimin requested one afternoon as they were sitting at the piano, watching the rain soak the lands outside.
“Delaford ?” The colonel smiled, resting his hands on the piano bench so that one of his fingers brushed against Jimin’s wrist. “I cannot think of a place that brings me as much peace as Delaford. I like to think you would enjoy it too, Mr. Park, you would love my dogs.”
“Your dogs ?” Jimin smiled brightly, his heart light at the thought of Colonel Min’s dogs running to greet him at the foot of his horse when he would come back to Delaford.
“I own two Greyhounds, though they are better at begging for pets than they are at hunting. I have no doubt they would abuse your kindness as I know you cannot resist puppy eyes once they are addressed to you.”
“You are mocking me again, Colonel. Am I to blame if my heart is softer than others ?” Jimin tried to berate him but his voice came out bashful, his mind easily overwhelmed with the knowledge that the colonel was talking about Jimin's presence in Delaford as a sure thing.
Before the insecurity of his tone, Colonel Min had no choice but to gently take his hand with both of his own. “I beg you to believe me when I say that I have nothing but a sincere admiration for your soft heart, which is why I would be delighted to welcome it inside my house. Jimin, would-”
Colonel Min took a deep breath, his eyebrows handsomely frowns, so concerned somehow that he did not notice the shiver running through Jimin at the mention of his first name. Never before had he pronounced it, a shame for it sounded beautifully sacred on his tongue, one would have thought he was taking an oath.
“Would you like to visit Delaford with your family this winter ? I have been told there is no place in England as pretty as our countryside on a snowy day.”
“Would you agree to walk with me under the snow ?”
“I would. I would even roll down a hill if such were your wish.”
“You would fall sick.”
“And I would not mind.”
Jimin could not repress his laugh despite hiding it behind his free hand. He used to believe he loved the snow more than anything but perhaps was he starting to love Colonel Min a little more.
“If you were sick, Colonel, I would have to stay at your bedside until spring and you would be sick of me by the end of April.”
“I believe it impossible for me to ever be sick of your company.” The man reached out to brush a lock of blond hair behind Jimin’s ear and the touch, as light as it was, had his chest catching alight. “Besides, the park is the prettiest in spring, which make it a particularly suitable time for wed..walking”
Jimin had trembled in the expectation of the word falling out of the colonel’s mouth and when the man looked down with what looked too much like shame, he could not prevent himself from speaking up.
“Or weddings, is it not, Colonel ?” Inside his chest, his heart was pounding more loudly than any rain against the window panes. “Spring is a suitable time for weddings.”
His anxiety could only be soothed by the faltering hope that overflowed the colonel’s eyes when he abruptly raised his head again. Still, a hope overshadowed by doubts and above all the fear of losing the man who had become in so little time the centre of his soul.
“You are right, it is a suitable time for weddings. Jimin, would you allow me to be completely honest with you ?”
Jimin nodded, frozen just as much by his fear of a rejection of his feelings as by his desire of a confirmation of them being welcomed.
“I will not insult you by claiming that you have been blind to my intention. Those past weeks, I found myself hoping that my feelings were shared and if that were to be the case, I would be the happiest man in England but ,” he emphasised this word as Jimin was about to reply, “but Jimin, I am thirty-five and I have been an bachelor as long as I have lived. I love you enough to know that you could find a much better match than I.”
Tears filled Jimin’s eyes, never had he known his heart was able to feel so much joy and pain at once.
“B-but Colonel, I have fallen for you. I wish I could bring you evidence of my love other than those tears but I beg you to believe that they flow because I cannot bear hearing the man I love so dearly speaking so severely of himself. I am myself only twenty and I have not lived much. I, too, love you enough Colonel to know that you could find a better husband.”
“Do not talk that way of yourself, my love.” The colonel pressed his lips to the back of Jimin’s hand, their softness and warmth only made the young man sob fresher tears.
“Then do not force me to lose you.”
“I will not, I promise, I will not.” Colonel Min let Jimin weep on his shoulder, one hand pressing his smaller hand and the other caressing his hair. “I shall see you this winter and all those that will follow, I promise.”
Jimin’s departure for his family home in Sussex took place only a few days later and more tears were shed, although they both knew the pain of parting would be temporary.
“Do not forget to write to me, Mr. Park,” the colonel smiled as Jimin sat in the carriage with his aunt.
“Do not forget to answer my letters, Colonel Min.” Jimin smiled back at him, his hand still burning where the colonel’s lips had kissed the skin at the centre of his palm, he knew he would hold the memory of their warmth close to his heart until winter.
He watched the dark shape of the colonel shrink until it became imperceptible, wishing them to be reunited already. How dull would life be this autumn. How much did he yearn to see Delaford and perhaps, if he dared to hope some more despite blushing at his own shamelessness, to make it his home and never have to miss Colonel Min’s kind eyes again.
“Your mother will be glad you made the acquaintance of Colonel Min,” his aunt said. “I know no man more respectable than him. Shall I expect a wedding soon ?”
“You shall, auntie,” Jimin laughed with such happiness he could not see the woman anymore with his eyes closed in moon crescents. “I truly believe you shall.”