London Holiday by Clarkston Nicole & Lady A

Author:Clarkston, Nicole & Lady, A
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: White Soup Press
Published: 2018-05-20T16:00:00+00:00

lizabeth had not long to suffer in dismay over the dandelions or the drooping elms, for within a very few steps, their promenade had carried them to the heart of the Gardens. To her right was a square, planted all round with towering giants and dominated in the centre by an orchestra stand, which was, at present, still vacant. She marvelled for a moment at the detail and splendour in the construction, even if the paint was somewhat faded. She could easily close her eyes and imagine the classical frontage ablaze with the glow of coloured glass lanterns and candles, and made ethereal by the music it hosted. If only they could stay long enough for her to hear just one melody!

As if he had read her mind, William spoke at her elbow, “The orchestra tends to start a little earlier than the supper. Within an hour or so, the musicians will arrive.”

“Are you suggesting that we might stay so long?”

“At what time of the day does your uncle typically return from his warehouse?”

She frowned. “That is just the trouble. He is not usually there all day, nor even half of it. Today must have been a very bad one for him, so I cannot tell you what we ought to expect. I should not think him much later than six or seven in the evening, for he will wish to eat his supper with my aunt.”

“Then if we have no word sooner, we should time our arrival to coincide with his. Any earlier would seem nonsensical, for you would be entering the house again without protection from your….” He cleared his throat and stopped.

“He is not my betrothed, nor, I hope, shall he ever be,” she clarified firmly.

“I am relieved to hear it. He did seem an audacious sort of fellow to make such a proclamation when the lady’s intentions are not similarly engaged.”

Elizabeth dipped her face down and away from him, but some outspoken nerve tasked her not to keep silent as her good sense would have allowed. “He has reason to think that he has a chance of success.” Then she stopped herself, turned and tilted her head, so that shade of the parasol fell over her eyes. “Let us talk no more of Mr Collins, please.”

He inclined his head, and there was a stately serenity to his countenance when he suggested, “Perhaps you would like to view the supper boxes or the Temple of Comus?”

She looked in half-interest over his shoulder at the larger of the two dished colonnades, this one graced with a Rococo spired pavilion, then smilingly shook her head. “If our time is to be limited, I think I should like to see the arches I have heard of. Are they not there?”

“Indeed, the southerly walk parallels this one. Some parts of it are also called the Italian Walk, for the architecture. We may cross over here and walk the length of the Grove, then we should have an ideal prospect of the arches.

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