It was already bright outside when Gilly managed to open her eyes. She was not feeling well, not well at all. Once again she and Benia had stayed up until the early hours reminiscing. It was an enjoyable evening, but this morning she regreted the lost of sleep.
After Benia had retired to the chair, Gilly had decided that she had best read the letter she had been carrying in her pocket all day. Yet another thing she regretted. The handwriting on the envelope was her husband’s, and the news it held was rather trying, robbing her of any remnant of a peaceful night. She had spent the long hours formulating and refining a plan of action.
Couched in his finest writing, Carl had delicately, albeit in a characteristic round-a-bout way affected a major change in her domestic happiness. In brief, Carl’s sister and her family had decided to move from their home in Brandy Hall back to Bywater. This involved staying indefinitely with Carl and Gilly until suitable accommodations could be found, not an easy task. Much as Gilly adored her sister-in-law, the children were a wild lot and choice of husband downright peculiar. The whole house would need to be battened down to weather this storm successfully!
Gilly, slid out of bed, washed her face in the basin and padded across the floor to the parlor. Benia was not there.
Laying open on the floor next to the chair was Benia rucksack. Gilly could see the neatly folded items pushed to the side leaving a large space on the other. Behind the chair was a sheathed sword, and on the table Beania the Fair’s ring. What’s this? Gilly thought with an unexplainable sense of urgency. She rushed out the door, making her way to the commons room.
Blocking her way, various staff members were making their way from the staircase to a large table, burdened with what appeared to be the most wonderful gifts, though perhaps a mite dusty!
[ June 12, 2003: Message edited by: Hilde Bracegirdle ]
|