Part 3 of 8
As her heart rate slows and the light sheen of sweat cools, Camille Poole rolls lazily onto her stomach and allows the soft night air to waft over her skin. Mmm, so nice, so peaceful, so… fulfilling. She smiles small as he moves her possessive little hand and settles onto his pillows. She lies quietly, feigning sleep, happily listening to him mutter to himself. After a few minutes, he rolls onto his side with a deep sigh. She can practically hear him falling asleep right beside her. With a soft groan, she spoons him, slips an arm around him, and joins him in slumber.
She floats in a grey world of gentle waves for a long time before the light begins to brighten and when she opens her eyes she is surrounded by green. She blinks, sits up, and feels a heavy weight pulling at her shoulders. She glances down, an equally heavy balanced on top of her head as she blinks in surprise.
She's swathed in something stiff and hot and heavy. She's sitting on a wrought-iron bench in a garden. Someone has wrapped her in a suffocating blanket of some kind. Her hand slips up to her head and finds something else wrapping her hair. Did Richard do this? Did I fall asleep here and he covered me up? Why would he do that? And… where exactly am I? I don't recognize this place and the plants are all wrong. This is too fine and manicured and the wrong greens.
A voice interrupts her thoughts. Her head jerks up to see a man in old-timey costume coming around a hedge to stand before her with a thick file folder tied up with red ribbon tucked under one arm. He nods deferentially and says, "Well, Lady Saint Marie, have you come to a decision? Will you take the property?"
That's when everything comes into focus for her. She isn't wrapped in a blanket; she's wearing an equally old-timey costume. She isn't wearing a hat, it's a wig. She isn't sitting in a Caribbean garden; she's in the middle of an English garden. With a start she knows what's happening!
Oh, god, I'm dreaming! This is Bridgerton! What else could it be? I binged the show from beginning to end and then made Richard watch most of it too in order to explain what was happening with Lord F and now my overactive brain is paying me back. What did this man say? Something about taking the property?
She looks about and spies an elegant manor house partially hidden behind large stately trees. She turns back to the man and says, "Refresh my memory, please. Where are we again?"
The man smiles and waves a hand, "This is Aberystwyth Manor, my Lady. It's the nicest we've looked at so far, if I do say so myself, with the most impressive gardens. The Earl shares a gardening brigade with Featherington Manor which backs onto this property all along…"
"I'll take it!" she barks, jumping hastily to her feet and almost toppling right into the man as the weight of her costume pulls her off-balance. She manages to catch her balance at the last second and smiles, "Where do I sign?" She takes his arm and he escorts her towards the house.
Just before they turn at the corner of a tall hedge she glances covertly over her shoulder and down the plush velvety walkway past all the immaculately groomed gardens to the high garden wall that encloses the whole space, the high garden wall that sports an impressive wrought-iron gate, the impressive wrought-iron gate through which she spies another lush paradise.
Her pulse jumps. There it is! Featherington Manor! And there is only ONE character with that name that I care about! Once inside Aberystwyth Manor, she signs on the dotted line with haste. Dream-time can be tricky. No time to waste.
END – part 3