Pas De Deux

Part 7

The next day, in the early hours of the morning, he is working in the office when he hears the soft sound of ruffling behind the door. He catches sight of a moving shadow in the gap underneath and a paper note is slipped in through it. He frowns and gets up and the shadow is long gone. He walks over to the door and picks up the paper.

                                                    Meet me under the weeping willow at 7 pm.

                                                                                           N.R.

His fingertip stroked the curves of the elegant calligraphy of her initials.

The morning seemed to stretch out, interrupted by a series of mundane tasks and discussions. Dinner began at 5 pm, like in town, and they shot each other glances and bashful smiles across the long table, foretelling the stirring prospects of their secret excursion, then resumed their conversation.

When Sarah Rogers thanked the guests for their lovely company, they began to rise slowly with their repleted faces and make their way to the other rooms, to their preferred activity of this last evening at Starbrook Manor, whilst Natasha exchanged a few words whilst making her way out of the dining room.

The Earl stayed behind, held back by his duties as host, making his presence seen by all. When he glanced up at the clock, it was ten minutes to seven. He bowed to the gentlemen standing by the fireplace then walked over to his mother.

"I have some matters to attend to," he said to her, kissing her cheek. She smiled warmly and turned back to her guests as he made his way to the main hall and glanced behind him, making a left turn towards the exit, instead of a right one to his office.

Summer was closed and it was still rather bright outside, albeit covered by large clouds. He strode across the garden to the weeping willow with a quickening heartbeat. Maybe it was the fact that this was a secret rendezvous, or that it challenged at least a dozen rules of the etiquette or maybe the anticipation of having waited the whole day for it, but the thought of meeting with Lady Romanoff this particular evening roused in the righteous gentleman he was the thrilling appeal of the forbidden.

He found her standing in the opening, gazing at the leafy details of the tree. She turned around when she heard him and, with a smile, asked that he would show her the estate.

They walked across the green pastures, past the lake, then down the orchards discussing their favourite topics and making new ones. They even spoke of Bucky; she said how she had been pleasantly surprised to discover he were a far better company than she had wrongfully made him to be.

By the time they were coming out of the orchards, the sun had begun to set, brushing the sky with bronze-hued stripes. The clouds had congregated into an ominous grey mass, heavy and electric.

He looked skywards. "We better head back before the rain catches us," he made the sensible suggestion although his heart was reluctant.

Thunder rumbled above their heads like a bell tolling the end of their rendezvous. The very next moment, it began to sheet down. They stared at each other, aghast and amused.

He unbuttoned his tailcoat and swung it above her head. They raced across the plains, cutting their way through the thick rain, past the lake, then back to the gardens.

It was completely dark and quiet when they finally reached the Manor. They stopped by one of the pillars to catch their breath. She finally lowered the coat which had not stand against the ruthless weather. She leaned on the pillar, laughing at their poor appearance feeling soaked and cold in her bones.