I haven't posted The Scarlet-Gypsy Song for some time now, and I thought it time for another excerpt, if you'd like to see more. I personally like this scene because it shows a closer peep at the relationship of at least one of the pairs of twins. :)
* * * * *
Charlotte yawned and slid off the log next to
Darby. He lay on his back, eyes fixed on the canopy of boughs above them. The other
four sat next to Lad watching the progress of supper with little energy to do
anything else. They had walked leagues that afternoon, it seemed. After
convincing Lad that they had indeed come from London and they hadn’t kidnapped Lady Cecelia nee Miss Woodruff, he had dashed off
like a man possessed, ready to take them to the castle for an audience with the
king. Charlotte’s
legs ached at the memory of the miles through the woods and meadows.
“Just how far is
this castle?” Darby had asked at last.
Lad cocked an eye
over his shoulder and winked. “At the utter end of Exhaustion.”
It had not been a
satisfying answer and it held more than a hint of ribbing. Consequently, Darby
was miffed and had sulked the rest of the day. Charlotte stole a look at him now. He stared
at the deepening heavens, but his eyes held a wandering and wistful look. She
knew he wasn’t thinking of stars and planets.
“Sleepy?” she
asked, laying down in the lush grass beside him and pillowing her head on her
folded hands.
“No.” Darby’s answer
came short and clipped.
“Hungry?”
“Not for that
rubbish.” He wiggled his knee and heaved a leaden sigh.
“It’s only tripe
and mush, but I’m sure it’s edible,” she whispered.
Darby only grunted
and waved one of the luminous fire-flies away. They danced and whispered around
Charlotte and
it crossed her mind, as truths sometimes will, that perhaps they weren’t the
common kind of fireflies, but fairies hunting for things with little star-lamps.
The more she thought of it the louder the whispers grew until she felt that if
she could only listen hard enough, she could make out words. It was a vain hope
though, like trying to listen to a conversation as you drift off the sleep. The
sounds were just sweet and indistinct enough to elude her knowledge.
“Darby?” she said
in a low voice—not a whisper, for that belonged to the fairies, now that she
knew what they were.
“What?”
“Did you ever
reckon we’d travel this far from home?”
Darby rolled over
to face her, and there were moist tracks in the grime of his face that, were it
anyone else, must be tears. “No.”
Charlotte burrowed her cheek against his
shoulder—he was warm, and she realized it had grown colder as the sun sank.
“Neither did I.”
Darby held his
breath, then let it out in a slow stream. “I wish we hadn’t ever tried to Pounce
Miss Woodruff.”
They all wished
that. There was no need to agree—it was a statement. Charlotte raised her eyes to the treetops and
felt a strange peace wash over her. The trees seemed alive somehow.
“Do you think they
have dryads here?” she asked.
“No. They can’t
even have proper dragons, much less tree-women.” Darby had been much
disappointed that a story-book land had nothing more of a dragon about it than London did. He threw sharp points into his voice and they
hurt Charlotte.
“I only wondered,”
she said, and nuzzled closer as a breeze swept over them. It was quiet for a
long moment as the dusk descended on the glen.
Darby’s arm crept
around her, protective and brotherly, and she felt the apology in its touch.
“Pax?” he asked.
“Pax,” she
answered, suddenly sleepy.
5 comments:
This is beautifully and cleverly written. You truly have a gift, Miss Heffington :) Keep up the good writing; I myself would love to read more of it!
Oh, that was amazing! Truly, amazing! I'm so glad you decided to post some more. I love this story and I love your style of writing.
Oh, Rachel, I'm awed! I love this story so much... I can't wait for more excerpts. Darby and Charlotte remind me strikingly of the children in E. Nesbit's books (particularly Oswald and Alice in The Story of the Treasure Seekers, did you ever read that?)
The paragraph about fireflies was especially beautiful! You have such talent for gentle, whimsical writing (just the kind I like to read).
Just one thing I wanted to point out: you mentioned "Lady Cecelia, nee Miss Woodruff". The word "nee" means "formerly"--would it be better stated as "Miss Woodruff, nee Lady Cecelia"? Just a thought!
I love when people write about siblings who actually value each other. It's so refreshing. Beautiful work Rachel.
Thank you, girls! :)
@Miss Dashwood, I wrote that as I did on purpose, as the children knew her first as "Miss Woodruff", and then "Lady Cecelia" but it is a valid point. :)
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