The Song of the Nightingale

Chapter Five:

He led my into his library, and immediately sauntered over to a record player.

"I was at your place a while ago, and I purchased an album...I've been dying to share it with you ever since!" He remarked, enthusiastically.

I an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I didn't know you listened to British music."

I stated towards the man. I watched as his hands delicately placed the black disk upon the machine before he turned around to face me.

"Ah, Angleterre..." He laughed. "Until hearing this song...I had no idea your country produced such romantic songs....So I didn't previously listen to your music!" He said dramatically, waving his hand over his head to emphasize. "Can you ever forgive me for neglecting it until this point?"

I stepped closer to him.

"And what, prey tell, is the particular song you've grown so fond of?" I chuckled, craning my neck to try to see which album it was. He purposely obscured my view.

"Not yet, Angleterre....You wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, would you?" He retorted, teasingly.

I grumbled unhappily, but finally gave up, instead standing with my back against the wall closest to me.

Soon enough, Francis stepped away from the record player, and the pin began to draw rings around the circular object.

My heart skipped a beat as the first few notes rung out groggily from the machine.

I knew immediately what tune this was. It had, after all, been my favourite song since it was sung and recorded by Vera Lynn for the very first time in 1940...However, no one knew this. As Francis had said before...It was a romance ballad, and I couldn't possibly be caught listening to those things.

The man must have caught my surprised expression, as he gracefully approached me, extending his hand to mine with a slight bow.

"Mr. Kirkland...May I have this dance?" He chided smoothly.

No, of course not you git!

I thought to myself.

I was even more shocked, when a simple,

"Yes." Escaped my parted lips.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

My mind screamed for me to tell him.

Although quite the opposite happened.

I gasped as he took my hand in his own, and began to lead me in a waltz across the spacious room. I yelped as he pulled me close to him, and expertly danced to the music...Not once missing a step.

He wrapped his arms around the back of my head and continued onward...our hands still entwined.

I was, to say the least, bewildered beyond belief when he started singing along with the words.

Who the bloody hell needs dignity, anyways?

I pondered to myself, burying my face into his shoulder.

The song was quickly drawing to a close...far too quickly for my liking.

I looked up as the music, and our dancing, slowed.

Francis met my gaze with a warm smile as the lyrics became drawn out and exaggerated.

I let the song overtake me, closing my eyes.

"And as we kissed,
And said goodnight...
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square..."

I gasped once more as the taller man bent down to whisper a soft,

"Goodnight, Arthur"

into my ear, releasing his hold on me, and planting a delicate kiss on my cheek before walking out of the room promptly...Leaving me with far too many confusing emotions to decipher, and a maddeningly deep maroon blush.