“Listen? Not watch it and the waves? How does the song of the water compare to a tit’s or a robin’s?”
“Let me think,” she said. In deep thought, probably searching for the right words, she hummed, but I only noticed how shapely her silhouette looked when she crossed her arms—nicely curved, thick hips meant for a full embrace.
“The Thames moans. Sometimes it swishes, lapping at the shore. It sounds lonely, like these birds. The tit and the robin are looking for their mate. The river sounds as if it mourns the loss of love.”
“That’s depressing, Georgina. And hauntingly beautiful.”
She offered me a glimpse of a smile, then quickly turned away.
“What is it?”
Drawing her hand to her face, she whispered, “They’re looking at us. I hate the angry glares.”
Swiveling, peering through trees, I saw a couple, a middle-aged woman and gentleman in a military-style hat, standing at the bend in the lane gawking. I was tempted to take my scope and identify these two, but to know the names would make it worse.
While many saw Georgina and me and didn’t seem to care, other couples had stared.
Some slowed and pointed at us, others backed away as if we were a plague.
The anger I felt at my mother’s warning doubled in my heart.
“Don’t grimace, my lord. Ignore. The angry couple went another direction.”
I’d like to think my scornful gaze wore them down, that I’d protect Georgina from physical harm, name-calling, or any other slights the two had cooked up.
Yet, I knew the truth.
Cowards hated confrontation.
And unless they were without a reason to run, they’d still be on this path awaiting their moment to ruin mine.
My companion’s voice, her sweet tones drew me from my fury. “Please, Mark. Don’t let them antagonize you. Ignore them. Just another curious set of eyes wondering if we were the ones in the cartoon. I think we are too handsome a pair for that.”
Her soft, matter-of-fact tone, her lyrical chuckles, cut like glass. This shouldn’t be a way to live, awaiting random acts of unkindness and having to excuse the ones that intrude upon your peace.
I couldn’t say anything. I was too stunned at how easily she accepted the slights.
One simple, gruntedfinehad to replace the off-color sentiments I wished to utter.
But I peered at the serene beauty at my side, one who looked unbothered and refreshing in a pinkish-color-trimmed bonnet that shaded her olive skin, skin shimmering like luminous pearls.
“The bird, my lord. Are you stopping to show me another bird?”
“Yes, but let’s go this way, deeper into the hedges.”
The gorse was sculpted, pared back, allowing a line of daffodils to make a solid yellow streak. It was a golden trail, something to follow, something to make my mind focus on nature and the most natural thing in the world, a wonderful woman.
“Tell me what you’ll do when you win the Harlbert’s Prize. Will you crow about it like a magnificent magpie?”
“Perhaps. There are quite a few people I would want to know.”
“Like who?”
“My father would be an obvious candidate.” The man didn’t appreciate art and possessed no true love of music. Why else would he allow such hideous copies of Roman statues in the Grosvenor house? “Yes, I’d love to see his face admitting he was wrong.”
“Just, Lord . . .”
“Lord Prahmn. And add my mother and her war council. I suppose it’s wrong for me to want some understanding from them.”
