Tales of Disturbance

Lord Aubrey

Lord Aubrey, one of Henry's friend's from Cambridge owns the hotel we are staying in. It must have been his previous home. He's a loaded Aristocrat by all accounts, one that Henry respected at Cambridge. Unpretentious, generous, tried to pretend he was normal. You get the picture. Anyway, we arrived at the hotel last night though we couldn't see much. He'd kept the fire going so that was welcoming enough. Grand place - chandeliers, red carpets, dark oil paintings, not to mention a marble staircase and fancy banister. You know the type of place.  The bedroom was comfortable. Four poster, bay windows, tall ceilings. Ensuite thankfully. This morning I opened the curtains to find we're right on the edge of the beach. Pure sand, light and beauty. Ocean outside that still seemed to be made of ink and diamonds.

There was no storm however, and soon enough the sun came out. There was a knock on our door which I answered and there he was. Lord Aubrey! I couldn't believe he'd come right up to the room - it seemed so unconventional, so unlike a Lord to be so familiar, coming straight up to the room like that. He was handsome and slightly eccentric on first impressions. Formal you know - and he had this other worldly feel about him - but they are kind of old fashioned the gentry, aren't they. I wondered that he said nothing to Henry and that Henry barely acknowledged him, but I knew what men could be like. Henry had slipped out of our room late the previous night, and mentioned something - I was half asleep. So Lord Aubrey spoke only to me. After the introductions, all was action. He wanted to take us down the beach so he was checking if I had enough layers on or if I needed different shoes.

Down on the beach, he walked quickly. I caught up with him and managed to thank him for his hospitality and to compliment him on his beautiful hotel and I spoke of how Henry admired him at Cambridge. 

He acknowledged my remarks politely then, in time, strode on ahead of us. Henry jabbering on as usual about this and that barely acknowledged him. When he had a bee in his bonnet, that has what Henry is like, barely registering others around him. I can't remember what particular bee he was going on about, but it was a grand scale monologue. The taxi had cost a king's ransom and he wanted to make sure our  plans for leaving later would avoid another extortionate taxi fare. Could someone else run us into the nearest village from whence we could catch the train? Surely they could.  

I was barely listening. I couldn't take my eyes off the tall, dark, handsomely byronic figure, striding on ahead of us, ignoring us so peculiarly. He wore a long coat that flapped out in the gusty winds that blew every so often like an il fated Romantic hero. A half hearted sun warmed our faces, we could smell salt on the breeze. But there was a biting chill this gusty morning. I pulled my coat closer up to my neck. 

Lord Aubrey, I noticed walked with some urgency, his deep prints darkening the sand ahead of us, his open coat flapping in the wind. Henry seemed not to notice and stared nonchalantly out to sea at intervals, when he paused to breathe, and pretended not to notice Aubrey's mood. He could be so antisocial, Henry, even with his friends. Sometimes I wondered about him, if he was depressed....

Aubrey walked ahead of us like this for some time. I began to feel uncomfortable in truth. It crossed my mind that Aubrey wanted to avoid conversation with us altogether which I thought was strange. Why offer to give us a tour if he did not wish to talk? Henry had regaled me with tales of the extroversion of his friends at Cambridge. I had assumed he was including Aubrey in these stories but perhaps not. Also, I don't like to stereotype but this sort, in my experience, is usually so full of pomp and self importance.

Walking along the beach, the sun on our faces, I felt uncomfortable. We were his guests after all, and I wanted to be friendly. I left Henry in his now blank, faraway state, having exhausted everything there was to say about the taxi fare, and hurried to catch up with the darkly attired Aristocrat powering through the sand.