A rather fluffy chapter but I was ill!
Nevertheless, I hope that you will enjoy it.
Much thanks to everyone who reviewed and to those who were patient enough to read my story.
Chapter Sixteen
Trudging sleepily once again on the shadowy lane, the young woman once again made her way to her colleague's house in the pre-dawn day. Passing underneath a low hanging branch, she noted sourly that she was becoming disgustingly used to waking at ungodly hours; grumbling almost contentedly to herself, she continued along this vein until the only positive part of her early morning ramblings reached her ears.
Today's song had a distinctly militaristic flavour and her foot flexed reflexively as she unconsciously began moving in a decided march; matching the strong beat she strode along until she reached the familiar gate. Halting abruptly, she gave a professional half turn and literally faced the music. Taking out an envelope and a colourful little cloth bundle tied with a cheerful ribbon; she looped the thin red strip over the blunted points of the heavy gate and slid her note carefully into one of the narrow slots.
Smiling slightly in pleasure of the music, she marched gaily away.
Mobile lips curled slightly at its corners as he re-read the cheeky message and bit into the still-warm biscuit. He nearly moaned in delight as the bittersweet taste of dark chocolate exploded against his taste-buds and a subtle aroma of coffee liqueur slid smoothly across his tongue. Shutting his eyes, he leaned his head back against padded wing, bit off another section of the baked treat and just savoured…
Dear Uriel,
Yesterday's song was gorgeous (as usual), but don't get a swelled head… I nearly fell over when you started playing. Did you have to begin so dramatically? Alright, I will stop whining now and admit that it wonderful. Your music is the only thing keeping me awake whilst I make that horribly long trek to my appointments at that horribly early hour. I know that you were not playing for me but I would still like to thank you for playing and sharing your magnificent gift.
I hope that you don't mind me naming you Uriel. I don't know your real name and I think Uriel suits you well as Uriel is the patron angel of music and literature and he is said to bestow upon us the fire of creativity. As you definitely have more than your fair share of genius, I think that it's quite appropriate! (By the way, I am absolutely green with envy as I write this. I have always wished that I could play an instrument, but, alas, I am hopeless even at whistling!)
Again, I thank you for your song.
In great appreciation and envy,
K.
(Sorry I don't know you well
enough just yet to give you my
full name!)
P/s: If you stop giving me heart failures so early in the morning, I'll give you another biscuit.
Shaking his head slightly as he remembered the impudent message, Erik grinned and wondered what his unknown admirer would do if he pounded out one of his louder pieces for her enjoyment. Perhaps something from Don Juan Tri-
The tiny quirk of amusement froze and died as he realised that his thoughts had wandered back into forbidden territory; he refused to succumb and remember! Picking up K's note, he determinedly turned his mind to deciding what tune he would play the next day in order to be able to earn his promised reward.
Not a great distance away, the young person whom Erik was distracting his thoughts with was calmly removing her rather fetching bonnet and pelisse whilst being enthusiastically welcomed by one of her society's founding members. Lady Honoura Benson was an agreeable woman of middle years and Feather had liked her on the spot; if not for Mrs Benson's sponsorship she would have been so easily accepted in to the highest and most exclusive of horticultural clubs.
'Ah… Miss Kestrel! Such a pleasure that you have joined us! It is unbelievable that a lady of your tender years would know so much about horticulture! You have truly brought new ideas and insight into our little society! Your timing could not have been more fortunate as we have just received word from one of our contacts that they are sending to us an extremely rare and prehistoric plant to us soon!'
'I really cannot wait! It's so exciting!' answered Feather whilst putting on a pair of rather disreputable looking gloves. 'Lord Ffolkes has already told me about the fern…' Carrying along on this vein, the two avid gardeners walked companionably towards the large greenhouse to join the others in discussion of the best fertiliser for a certain rare rose species.
I wonder whether he liked the chocolate biscuits…