A new week, a new challenge… I thought it was time I treated you to another bit of the Clifton/Munro story. I know, I’m so magnanimous it’ll be the death of me one day. Anyway, if you are unacquainted with Marcus, Lord Clifton, his brother Harry, his intended bride Miss Emilia Munro, and her unspeakable mother, I suggest you go here first 🙂 bon appétit!
“Mrs Munro,” said his lordship, seizing a rare moment of silence (the lady he was addressing had been obliged to stop talking for a moment in order to draw breath) “as it is such a pleasant day, might I ask the pleasure of a turn about the garden with your daughter?”
Mrs Munro looked uncertain. Clifton watched the battle being waged inside her between the devoted mother who knew this request defied convention, and the avid social climber who didn’t want to annoy a nobleman. The social climber won. “Naturally, my lord! What a charming idea! I shall fetch my shawl – Emilia knows how dreadfully I feel the cold, even on a balmy day such as this…”
Clifton’s measured tones cut across the babble with effortless calm. “I was rather hoping to spend a little time alone with Miss Munro.”
For a moment he wondered if she was about to fly into a self-important rage, but although she certainly bridled, she conceded to his wishes with remarkably little complaint. She did, however, insist that she accompany them at a respectable distance, escorted by Harry.
Poor Harry, thought Marcus with a twitch of his eyebrows.
Natalie Amatera 