*Isa/OP – thou shalt dwell in darkness for another chapter or two. This story (with farfromhome's splendid research) blew up from a short comedy idea of mine (as seen here) into a much more serious opus that we are still working on. Hopefully we can post that other story soon… but not on a DiP site. It's kinda a TBA sorta thing. Will keep you advised.*

Part 5 of 8

Camille blinks. She's in an elegant salon filled with golden candle-light. Soft string music is playing. Servers circulate with trays of fine crystal flutes. She's wearing a completely different dress. She snags a flute and sips nonchalantly as she quickly scans the sedate groups of finely dressed people. She knows exactly what she's looking for and she spots it within seconds.

An auburn head of silky curls, a flash of impossibly green eyes, and there he is, Lord F himself, the man of her dreams. Well, THIS dream anyway. She glides closer to the rich midnight blue jacket. She dawdles, listening to a discussion about a horse race of some dispute amid much low laughter. She shudders. That laugh! Oh, how she loves that laugh! She is wondering how to approach him when she is saved by the sudden appearance of an overbearing redhead sandwiched cruelly into a dress even more ornate than Camille's.

"Pardon me," the woman croons, "but I believe we share a garden wall. I am Lady Featherington. Are you Lady Saint Marie, our newest neighbour at Aberystwyth Manor?"

Camille gawps at the woman for a moment. The woman looks contorted and pressed into an unnatural configuration by her clothes. Camille suddenly wonders about undergarments. She herself isn't wearing anything torturous, probably because she doesn't need it and this is HER dream so corsets don't come into it. Besides, what all the women in this room are trying so hard to emulate is Camille's natural state of being. Thank goodness!

She realizes the woman is waiting for a response. She pastes a smile onto her face and says, "Oh, yes, pardon me, yes, I am. I'm very pleased to meet you, Lady Featherington."

Fortunately, this IS the kind of dream where no questions are asked and no suspicions aroused. The woman raises her voice and bugles over Camille's shoulder, "Lord Featherington! Lord Featherington, leave off wasting breath with those dubious cronies of yours and come meet our new neighbour, Lady Saint Marie!" She waves her fan like she's swatting flies.

Camille holds her breath as she hears low masculine voices drift away and then a quiet footfall right behind her. If she didn't already know who it was, the goosebumps rashing out on her skin would have been a big clue. A most handsome man steps around her and docks himself at the tall woman's side with an intemperate look.

"Yes, good lady wife, what is it?" he drones, not looking at either of them. He is already bored and seeking some means of escape. When his wife forces him to attend, his eyes widen as he finally gazes upon the object under discussion, that being an excited Camille.

Camille recognizes that look of sudden interest. She'd searched for it for so long upon the one face she wanted the most… and now she has it every single day… but this is that face too, isn't it? She smiles coyly, dips her lashes, and coos, "So pleased to meet you. Finally."

Since this is Camille's dream, Lady F misses this signal entirely as she is busy scanning the crowd for son-in-law material. She suddenly taps her oblivious husband on the shoulder with her fan, "There's young Albion Finch being bothered by that Cressida Cowper! Pray excuse me," and she hurries off leaving a Lord and a Lady to continue sizing one another up.

Camille snaps her own fan open to cover a predatory smirk. Stupid woman, leaving your husband unguarded! I would NEVER be so careless! She gives him a long slow blink. "We share a garden, I believe?" she lisps, fanning slowly, running her eyes over him.

He studies her likewise then draws himself up, "Yes, I believe we do. Lovely places, gardens."

She looks away, arching her neck and folding her fan to rest lightly on her neckline, "Yes, such privacy and secluded shady nooks. I could stroll for hours in the cool of the evening. I only wish I had pleasant company." She then looks directly at him, "I'm a terrific conversationalist."

His eyes lift and he clears his throat, "ARE you? Well, I can't say I'm surprised." He buys some time by sipping his drink before saying a trifle hesitantly, like maybe he's a bit out of practice but more than happy to 'bone up' as it were, "Um, perhaps I could offer my company? On one of your walks? It would be the neighbourly thing to do."

She huffs a low laugh and leans forward slightly. She is very gratified to see his eyes flick down then up as his colour heightens. "Oh, that is most gracious of you, my Lord. I have roses that I would like to show you. A man such as you, so knowledgeable, so urbane, must know a thing or two about velvety soft rose buds, no?" Her fan wafts seductively as her eyes flirt outrageously. God! He looks and sounds so MUCH like Richard! And that coat!

He doesn't answer right away then gives his head a small shake as if awaking from a dream, "No… I mean, yes! Yes, of course. I shall be most happy to assist you with your roses in any way I can. When would best suit…?"

She gusts a sigh, "Right now would be wonderful but…" His eyebrows swift up and his gaze is riveted to her face in astonishment. She chuffs a laugh, "… but there is no light. Can we set a time for tomorrow? Say, 8pm, at the adjoining gate between our gardens?"

He takes another hurried sip of his drink before answering low, "It will be my pleasure, Lady Saint Marie. It's been a long while since anyone has sought my advice on… roses." This time he arches just one eyebrow and gives her a rakish little smile.

She taps his hand with her fan, "Oh, my Lord, that is truly a pity. I'd even go so far as to say it is a sin and a shame and a crime. A man of your talents and calibre just going to waste like this! Tsk. I shall do my best tomorrow to make up for that lack." She opens her fan and just eats him up with her eyes as he tilts his head and looks at her with wonder.

She stares into his eyes and simply drowns…

END – part 5