"Can wait."
"You're impossible."
"You've mentioned."
"I'm going now."
"Alright."
Neither moved.
"Gabriel."
"Clara."
"This is a terrible idea."
"The worst."
"We should be sensible."
"Absolutely."
"Then why aren't we moving?"
"Excellent question."
Clara backed toward the door. "I'll just... morning room."
"I'll just... library. Brooding to do."
"Very well. Excellent…I wish upon you a good brooding."
She fled, her face burning and her heart racing.
Despite the impossibility of it all, Clara found herself smiling as she walked toward the morning room.
She was definitely in trouble.
But at least it was interesting trouble.
CHAPTER 6
The morning room, was as to be expected, in a complete state of disarray.
This was not created by Gabriel’s hand, on the contrary, this was years of accumulated neglect creating this chaos.
Sheets covered furniture like ghosts, dust motes danced in the weak sunlight filtering through grimy windows, and there was a distinctly ominous stain on the carpet that Clara decided not to investigate too closely.
She set to work with perhaps more vigor than necessary, trying to burn off the restless energy from the kitchen encounter. Every surface she cleaned, every piece of furniture she uncovered, felt like excavating the past, here was the piano no one had played in years, there the writing desk where someone had once written letters, there the window seat where someone had sat and looked out at gardens that weren't yet dead.
“If you continue at this pace, you will create a hole in the centre of that table.”
Clara did not start this time as she was learning to anticipate unexpected visits.
"Have you no weighty matters to ponder?”
Gabriel lounged in the doorway, observing her work vigorously on her task at hand.
