For Ariel with love. (ficathon 2013 entry)
He strode up the gravel path on long legs, encased in fine quality, wool trousers: oblivious to the freshly trimmed box hedge, it's trimmings still scattered among the stones and it's leafy aroma lingering in the crisp frosty air.
"Gud Morn'n Sir.".
Wrenched abruptly from his musings, the gentleman lowered his thick, bushy eyebrows at the sight of the stout, elderly fellow, armed with clippers, diligently shaping the west facing side of the hedge. The scowl quickly softened to a smile, creasing the corners of his eyes, as the gentleman raised his homburg in greeting.
"You're at it early this morning, Thomas." He checked his stride and cast a rare and admiring glance about him, taking in the still vibrant rose garden, the towering oaks and dainty birches surrounding the neatly cut lawn. He tugged his ample beard absentmindedly as he regarded a newly raked pile of leaves collected in a fadge awaiting removal to the incinerator.
"How you manage to keep everything in such order is beyond me."
"We gotta 'ave it spiffing gud for Miss. Plummer's visit this arvo, Sir. Miss does lyke the garden"
The gentleman, who had resumed his walk, with an added spring in his step, didn't bother to answer except by lifting his homburg a second time. Mounting the steps to the side entrance of the large whitewashed manor, he let himself in, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Once inside, he hung his tweed jacket on the brass hook beside the door. He placed the homburg on the hat stand beside it, revealing grey disheveled locks, flattened from their natural curl, and resumed his stride, pausing as he passed the kitchen to inform Martha that he would take his breakfast in the library at her convenience.
After a quick clatter up stairs, which did not even wind him, The gentleman lowered himself into a shabby but comfortable leather chair, beside a newly lit fire and sighed contentedly.
He loaded and lit his pipe, which was conveniently placed on a small table -along with his tobacco pouch, and gazed steadily into the flames as the fragrant blue cloud mingled it's scent with that of crackling pine cone resin and the musty smell of ancient tomes, lining the walls around him.
Polly Plummer's bi-annual visits were always worth looking forward to.
She was one of the few outsiders he allowed to interrupt the quiet routine of his life.
He smiled again, recalling her last visit...