Page 72 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
While the conversation shifted to talk of pastries, I let my gaze wander toward the window and the glimpse of the Danburys’ garden beyond. It was a dull, tamed sort of garden composed of rigid trellises and carefully pruned shrubbery. Just like every other garden owned by members of Spindleton high society.
The very sort of garden I would be forced to own once I became Lady Harcourt.
While I stared out the window, the sky abruptly darkened, shifting from sunshine to gloomy clouds in the span of a single heartbeat. I blinked, not entirely believing my eyes.
Not until a sudden rumble of thunder boomed so loud it shook the windowpanes.
Selina screamed.
Lady Danbury and Mama both laughed nervously.
“Goodness,” the former remarked over the rain now hammering against the roof. “These summer storms are so terribly unpredictable.”
But I didn’t laugh. Nor did I scream.
I simply stared in horror at the silver-haired young man standing in the middle of the garden, in the midst of the downpour, watchingmethrough the window.
My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes locked with his.
Bene.
I flashed a glance toward the clock ticking away on the mantel. It was only three in the afternoon. What was he doing here? Henevercame early. And he most certainly never followed me into the city where he could be spotted.
Wherewecould be spotted.
A flash of lightning split the heavens. When it faded, Bene was gone—as if he had been nothing but a figment of my imagination all along. But I wassureI had seen him.
I jolted to my feet. Something was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
Mama raised her eyebrows. “Aurelia? What is the matter?”
“I just need some air,” I blurted out, not thinking.
Selina looked aghast. “Surely not inthisweather?”
“No,” I agreed at once even as I crossed the sitting room to the window to twitch the curtains shut. “Forgive me,” I implored, whirling back to face the three wide-eyed women staring at me. “This storm just has me… unsettled.”
For once, Lady Danbury’s features softened into something almost matronly. “Of course, my dear. Perhaps we should retire to a room without windows?”
“No!” I hastily exclaimed. Too hastily. “I would not wish to inconvenience you, Lady Danbury. Perhaps I might just… just walk the corridors for a moment until I am settled once more?”
Mama narrowed her eyes at me.
But Lady Danbury slowly inclined her head. “Of course. Do let me know if I should ring for Mary. She does make a very soothing chamomile tea.”
I nodded and murmured my thanks, already halfway out the door.
This was madness, all of it.
Bene being here in the middle of the day.
Me racing out into the storm to see him.
How would I possibly explain my soaked state afterward?
I didn’t worry about that now. I couldn’t worry about that now.
On hurried steps, I flitted down the corridor and made for the double doors leading out onto the veranda and the garden beyond. But the moment I stepped outside, I forgot how to breathe. Not because of the bitterly cold-for-the-season rain pelting my back. Nor the strength of the wind whistling past.
