"Temper Flares"
By Rachel Heffington
“I would like a great many things,” she said in her queenliest
voice, so that he might know the limits of her imagination were nonexistent, “but
what I’d like right now would be to slip out of these horrid, sweaty clothes,
and to slip into a cool white frock. I would like one of these velvety lawns,
and nothing better to do with my time than lay in hammock reading, or to
traipse across the green grass and look lovely.” That was exactly what she
wanted—all these secluded, cool, wide lawns wandering up to white porches and
arched windows filled her heart with a dusty, musty ache that kept pace with
her increasingly drab appearance. Yes—she longed with all the passionate
longing of a weary soul to have the luxury of traipsing.
“You want to….traipse?” her companion
asked, evidently bewildered.
“Traipse. We are always walking or going or running or trotting off
to do this, that, and the other—I’d like to take a wander and have no one
bother me about politics or religion or a thousand-and-one other things People
tend to like to bother an innocent young lady with.”
“Ah.”
She nodded; pleased with the way he’d
taken his defeat. An “ah” meant he had resigned his verbal sword and would
behave himself. It was a great relief that he had not said “aha” instead, which
had much more of a challenge about it, and meant that she would be required to
defend her point further. “Oh—and there’s one more thing, Beckett,” she said.
Beckett winced, and shook himself. “What
is it, Arianna?”
“I have a headache, Beckett.”
“Well? Can I do anything about it?”
Sarcasm, Arianna noted with contempt. Becket t always resorted to sarcasm first
thing and wasted a situation in which wit ought to have played a decent part.
He fought with a claymore of a tongue—she preferred a rapier; sharp, cutting,
infinitely polite.
Arianna pressed her temples with
her fingertips and tried not to think about how weary she was. “As a matter of
fact, you can do something about it,
Beckett,” she said at length. “You can take yourself off and leave me alone,
and perhaps a massive portion of my headache would depart with you.”
“You’re a cruel woman, Arianna
Maddox,” Beckett growled. But he lumbered off dutifully, and Arianna watched
him with nothing greater than mild annoyance—he behaved exactly as a devoted
lover ought: going away when bidden, and coming around when needed. He was just
the sort of fellow Arianna liked, for though she was a woman and would faint
before betraying her sex, she had never been overly companionable with any
young ladies.
Beckett wandered off down the cool
stone drive, and once Arianna was certain he would not come dawdling back,
Arianna smoothed her shirt, fluffed her bangs, and re-folded the cuff of her capris. Dashing about campaigning through neighborhoods was all very well and
good when the temperature was a balmy sixty-degrees, but the full summer heat
had been beating upon them all day, and Arianna’s mood was souring. Beckett had
done nothing but chatter all afternoon, and the hotter the day grew the faster
his tongue wagged. It was almost as if Beckett had been a lumbering, bumbling,
handsome sort of cicada intent on keeping pace with the advancing of the
temperatures. “Which,” she thought to herself, “is exactly what he is.”
4 comments:
Excellent writing. *applauds* I look forward to reading the rest of this, if it would also be so nice as to pop out from wherever it is hiding. ;)
Hi!
I probably haven't commented on this blog before (and I'm trying to make this comment appear not to be a spam comment, btw).
I noticed that your blog (no offense) has a few glitches in it (the text is quite small and the comments are very hard to read because they are white). If you are interested in having a blog makeover, just visit my site and e-mail me and I'm sure I can work something out - http://the-designers-den.blogspot.ca/
Thank you, Mark! (*shakes the good chap's hand pleasantly) I am glad you enjoyed that piece of scribbling because I had fun and much amusement writing it. I am not sure there is any more of it be had had, but if it appears there is, I'll be sure to post it! :) And if not, then do stick around the blog because I always have something-or-other up my sleeve! :)
@Miss Woodhouse: I *will* email you, because goodness! My comment form in my browser (chrome) looks just as it always does!
You may put your mind at ease. I have quite enjoyed this blog so far, and have no plans on leaving. :D
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