Pride, Prejudice and Poison (A Jane Austen Society Mystery) by Elizabeth Blake

Author:Elizabeth Blake [Blake, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781683315742
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books
Published: 2019-08-12T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

Erin arrived late to yoga class Monday afternoon and stumbled as she bent to unroll her mat in the back of the room. She hated being late. Her favorite spot in the far-right corner was taken, so she had to settle for a spot near the door. Joining the rest of the class sitting cross-legged on their mats, she tried to use her breath to calm her mind.

In the front of the room sat the teacher, Kira Robinson, a slim Anglo-Indian woman with the taut body and unlined face of a devoted yogi. She sat in a perfect lotus position, feet tucked over each other, limber as a cat. Erin frowned as her hips protested the pose; she would never be that flexible, no matter how many yoga classes she took. Years of running had seen to that, the pavement pounding already taking a toll on her joints.

“Pay attention to your breath,” Kira said in a soothing voice. “Don’t try to control it, just observe. In, out, in, out.”

The smell of rubber mats and sweat mixed with the faint aroma of lavender from the burning candle behind the teacher. The flame flickered and blinked in the breeze coming from the ill-fitting window sash.

“In, out, in, out. Breathe in using your diaphragm, taking air all the way down into your belly. Hold it for a moment.”

Erin closed her eyes, savoring the stillness of the room. The only sound was the wind whistling through the building’s ancient eaves, punctuated by the occasional cawing from the family of crows who lived in the gnarled oak tree overlooking the graveyard.

“I invite you to chant the universal sound of om three times,” said Kira.

Erin took a deep breath, letting it release slowly as she joined the rest of the class in the chant. There were a couple of men in class, their voices deepening the resonance of the collective sound.

Ooooomm.

When she’d first begun practicing yoga, Erin had thought the chanting was silly, but now she looked forward to it. The sound of many voices caressed the air in the room, soft as feathers.

Ooooomm.

She deepened her breath, the vibrations soothing her nerve fibers, surrounding her like a blanket.

Ooooomm.

After the chanting, Kira led them through a gentle flow, starting with floor poses before moving on to sun salutations. As she moved into her first Downward Dog, Erin caught a glimpse of curly black hair in the front row. Though nearsighted without her glasses, Erin was pretty sure it was Jonathan Alder. Those curls were unmistakable. What was he doing here? An unwelcome tingle emanated from her lower spine, and sweat dotted her forehead as she held the pose. Her yoga was a time for meditation, a sacred hour away from worldly things like sexual attraction. In class she was the Goddess Diana, pure and chaste, interested only in the hunt for enlightenment.

They moved through the vinyasa to plank pose, the top of a push-up, arms extended, back straight. She could no longer see Jonathan.

“And hold it … a little longer,” Kira said.

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