Wild Dream by Duncan Alice

Author:Duncan, Alice
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, humor, historical
Publisher: Alice Duncan

Chapter 11

The Rothwell literary ladies began making their way back home around three in the afternoon, after having spent a good two hours longer in the pursuit of literacy than was usual for them. Most of the time had been spent in extolling the virtues of music and its relationship with great works of fiction.

Eustacia Topping, the minister’s wife, had even gone so far as to suggest the infamous Madame Lafarge would not have been so bloody-minded had she been exposed to the edifying effects of the America City Brass Band on a daily or weekly basis. Addie didn’t know but that she agreed with her. She did, however, feel it incumbent upon herself to point out that Mr. Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities would have been sadly flat with the mad knitter missing. Mrs. Topping said she’d have to think about it.

None of the gentlemen, except Charley Wilde, ventured an opinion on the various merits of combining the arts of music and literature, even when asked. Charley offered it as his belief that Mozart had united the two very well several times, although his personal favorite was Beethoven’s “Fidelio, oder Die eheliche Liebe.” The ladies stared at him, awe-stricken. His band members nodded wisely. Addie shook her head, absolutely thrilled that her Charley should be such a musical genius.

Charley only looked embarrassed and kept his mouth shut after that.

Now Addie stood on the porch, watching as the last of the ladies departed in Mrs. Topping’s wagon. Ivy stood at the gate, waving them away with her best hankie, a white linen one Addie had given her last Christmas. She’d embroidered the Blewitt family crest on it, and Ivy only used it on special occasions. The band members were each taking one last glass of dandelion wine in the parlor.

Addie was in raptures. Charley’s brass band had been the highlight not merely of the Literary League meeting, but of the entire year hereabouts. Perhaps the decade. The Rothwell vicinity, unfortunately, was not for the most part fraught with excitement of a cultural nature.

The band, though, had been wonderful. More than wonderful. Addie couldn’t even think of a word good enough to describe them. Her heart sang. Her senses soared. Every time she looked at Charley, her very soul lifted to touch the realm of splendor.

He was her prince. Her very own prince. Prince Charley. She loved the name. She loved the sound. She loved him. He embodied everything she’d ever craved, everything she’d dreamed about on those never-ending evenings she’d spent staring out her window at the mystical heavens.

“Addie!”

Ivy’s joyful shriek jolted Addie out of her happy thoughts. Tearing down the porch steps, Addie met her aunt with a hug Ivy returned with vigor.

“Oh, Aunt Ivy! Nobody’s ever, ever held a more successful Ladies’ Literary League meeting! Never, not once!”

“I know it, Addie! I know it!”

The two ladies exchanged another bear hug and turned to walk, arms around each other, to the porch. They saw Charley watching them, his band flanking him, an odd, tender smile on his face.

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