Lady Laura let out a glad cry as she ran forward to greet the tall, broad shouldered gentleman, who upon seeing her stood and held out his arms. She literally flew into them and cried "Godfather, how good to see you." She let out a whoop as he lifted her up and smiled as he replied, "Indeed it is and my how you have grown." He planted a kiss on the top of her shining hair. He noticed she smelled faintly of lavender and became nostalgic for the little girl he had left behind when he had traveled to the Caribbean. Although they had exchanged a few letters during her school years it felt good to be home.
Setting her down, Lord Stanton released her and together they sat down on the sofa by the table, which was laid with morning tea and delicious muffins that Chef had sent down for their enjoyment. Her eyes shining, Laura turned expectantly toward Lady Winter and noticed a wistful look upon her face. "Aunt, isn't it perfect that Lord Stanton is finally come home," she demanded. Before looking over Laura's head to where the man in question sat, she schooled her features.
Lady Winter's eyes met those of Lord Stanton's and agreed "Yes, Laura it is. Here have some muffins. Chef makes them taste so good." She handed the plate to Laura, and turning to Sir Harry she drew him into the conversation by telling Laura their guests had come to take them for a drive. Her niece quickly agreed to the plan adding, "I shall need to have Sarah put my hair up and then give her some instructions about packing before we leave."
So for the next twenty minutes they talked and laughed at different stories they had to tell. Most of the time Sir Harry and Lady Winter sat by, while Laura and Lord Stanton talked nonstop. This gave her aunt time to inspect Lord Stanton unguardedly, to drink in his handsome countenance. She watched his mouth move in conversation, his lips curve into a smile and his otherwise reserved features light up with undisguised joy. Yes indeed, she too was glad he was home.
Uncle Simon holding onto Alfred's arm entered the room and took a seat to join the party, the little silver box tucked securely in his coat pocket.
Setting her down, Lord Stanton released her and together they sat down on the sofa by the table, which was laid with morning tea and delicious muffins that Chef had sent down for their enjoyment. Her eyes shining, Laura turned expectantly toward Lady Winter and noticed a wistful look upon her face. "Aunt, isn't it perfect that Lord Stanton is finally come home," she demanded. Before looking over Laura's head to where the man in question sat, she schooled her features.
Lady Winter's eyes met those of Lord Stanton's and agreed "Yes, Laura it is. Here have some muffins. Chef makes them taste so good." She handed the plate to Laura, and turning to Sir Harry she drew him into the conversation by telling Laura their guests had come to take them for a drive. Her niece quickly agreed to the plan adding, "I shall need to have Sarah put my hair up and then give her some instructions about packing before we leave."
So for the next twenty minutes they talked and laughed at different stories they had to tell. Most of the time Sir Harry and Lady Winter sat by, while Laura and Lord Stanton talked nonstop. This gave her aunt time to inspect Lord Stanton unguardedly, to drink in his handsome countenance. She watched his mouth move in conversation, his lips curve into a smile and his otherwise reserved features light up with undisguised joy. Yes indeed, she too was glad he was home.
Uncle Simon holding onto Alfred's arm entered the room and took a seat to join the party, the little silver box tucked securely in his coat pocket.
3 comments:
are you sure you haven't been reincarnated... and this is just your other life... this is soooo smooth....
Oh this is developing so deliciously, Theresa.
I am loving it!
I do freely admit to years of daydreaming these types of scenarios. Being a hopeless romantic, I wear my heart on my sleeve (except when I play games of chance) I have read thousands of romances, much to my husband's chagrin. He is practical, scientific, political and a musician. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and he pats my hand. I decided to write so as not to become disenchanted or ..................
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