Shadows behind one of the pretentious columns outside the Olympic Theatre, shadows not conforming to any interpretation of neoclassical architecture, shadows moving; and, when His Grace approached to a sufficient proximity, shadows creating noises both indiscreet and inappropriate for a public street. A flash of copper curls, a clashing maroon sleeve, and surely only one couple in all of Mayfair would dare sport such an unfortunate combination of colors. Deliberately he clumped on the pavement. The shadows whipped behind their sheltering column and their exuberant noises silenced. But as he passed, a calculated glance over his shoulder proved his theory correct. Mrs. Beryl Fitzwilliam, née Wentworth, stood on her tiptoes and peered over her new husband’s shoulder. Her bewitching green eyes lit with glee and she wrinkled her nose at His Grace’s victorious grin. Satisfied, he resumed his more usual manner of walking and continued on his way, permitting them to resume — well. Perhaps better not to pursue that thought.
Enchanting Beryl’s adventure was complete, her dreams now reality.
Leaving him free to acquire a new target.
And in case you missed Anne's story, that one's in Scandal on Half Moon Street.
Here's the link back to Sweet Saturday Samples, where you'll find clean excerpts from some really great writers. Trust me, they're worth your time.
Thanks for stopping by. Cheers,