Sarah had to admit, the young colonel who opened the door was very
handsome. His blue eyes captured the setting sunlight that framed the group
behind her and his hair was a naturally rich shade of blond-brown. Gray
pieces hinted at the edges, but what did she care? She was tired of being
alone. None of the party had hinted at whether he was available for her,
not really. She let him kiss her hand and nearly thought she'd faint.
He took to her side almost immediately as they strode through the mansion. As Mrs. Jennings rambled about politics with Elinor's husband up ahead, the Colonel took to showing her little details he'd put into his sanctuary, like etchings in the corners near huge windows and hemming on the white curtains. She was fascinated, perhaps more by him than these. Any girl could have fancy white curtains.
When they took to lunch Margaret got up from the table early. "Say, Sarah, I can't possibly wait another second to show you the gardens." She grabbed Sarah's hand and led her regretfully away from the Colonel. "My sister Marianne used to love coming here. Almost died once-she got caught in the rain." This was grave and ill-mentioned, Sarah thought to herself. "Brandon saved her." Wait-an important detail, now. Perhaps had her Brandon (as she so fondly called him when alone, which should be noted was rarely) loved this beautiful, sickly Marianne? Clearly as she lay on her deathbed, to strengthen the poison. "Marianne always said it wouldn't rain, and of course it always did. Twisted her ankle once, I was there, and Willoughby saved her that time.." She continued, giggling inappropriately here and there, and Sarah could tell she was a thing for gossip but paid her no mind, absorbed in her own thoughts. She didn't even catch the bit Margaret was currently releasing about this heroic new attachment named Willoughby.
At last they finished frolicking together in the gardens and returned to Delaford, just in time for dinner. Sarah held her breath as the Colonel took his seat next to her (with as much poise as his prize stallion). He proceeded to take her attention the entire meal, whether they spoke of politics (both of them had little view on such a petty social issue) or horseback riding, or whatever either of them wanted to discuss next (there was no disagreement).
Sometime around sunrise the remainder of the group which had not retired after dinner (Margaret, foolish child, and the Jennings', and of course the two we've been discussing this entire chapter) decided to bed. With much vigor in her heart Sarah ascended to her chambers, but the valiant, dashing Brandon retrieved her elbow before she was quite out of reach. "My dear, I'd be delighted if you'd join me for a ride tomorrow, because you have a fervor for horses as I do, and I'd like to show you more of the grounds." Giggling and blushing girlishly, she could not hide her smile. "Why, yes, Colonel, that would be lovely." And the both of them bedded at last with nearly alike thoughts of the coming days ahead dancing in their hearts.
He took to her side almost immediately as they strode through the mansion. As Mrs. Jennings rambled about politics with Elinor's husband up ahead, the Colonel took to showing her little details he'd put into his sanctuary, like etchings in the corners near huge windows and hemming on the white curtains. She was fascinated, perhaps more by him than these. Any girl could have fancy white curtains.
When they took to lunch Margaret got up from the table early. "Say, Sarah, I can't possibly wait another second to show you the gardens." She grabbed Sarah's hand and led her regretfully away from the Colonel. "My sister Marianne used to love coming here. Almost died once-she got caught in the rain." This was grave and ill-mentioned, Sarah thought to herself. "Brandon saved her." Wait-an important detail, now. Perhaps had her Brandon (as she so fondly called him when alone, which should be noted was rarely) loved this beautiful, sickly Marianne? Clearly as she lay on her deathbed, to strengthen the poison. "Marianne always said it wouldn't rain, and of course it always did. Twisted her ankle once, I was there, and Willoughby saved her that time.." She continued, giggling inappropriately here and there, and Sarah could tell she was a thing for gossip but paid her no mind, absorbed in her own thoughts. She didn't even catch the bit Margaret was currently releasing about this heroic new attachment named Willoughby.
At last they finished frolicking together in the gardens and returned to Delaford, just in time for dinner. Sarah held her breath as the Colonel took his seat next to her (with as much poise as his prize stallion). He proceeded to take her attention the entire meal, whether they spoke of politics (both of them had little view on such a petty social issue) or horseback riding, or whatever either of them wanted to discuss next (there was no disagreement).
Sometime around sunrise the remainder of the group which had not retired after dinner (Margaret, foolish child, and the Jennings', and of course the two we've been discussing this entire chapter) decided to bed. With much vigor in her heart Sarah ascended to her chambers, but the valiant, dashing Brandon retrieved her elbow before she was quite out of reach. "My dear, I'd be delighted if you'd join me for a ride tomorrow, because you have a fervor for horses as I do, and I'd like to show you more of the grounds." Giggling and blushing girlishly, she could not hide her smile. "Why, yes, Colonel, that would be lovely." And the both of them bedded at last with nearly alike thoughts of the coming days ahead dancing in their hearts.