The Duchess sat with her writing things in the garden, the sun's dappled rays peppered brightness upon her, while her mind drifted upon thoughts not written anywhere...
The cherishing of a secret was well and good, and she who had known so much grief now savored the happiness of her knowledge in a very personal way. It was not that she feared speaking of it might spoil the idyll, but had cosseted it, savoured it, letting its healing salve steep into the very marrow of her bones. But eventually even the most secret joys need to be loosed free to fly, and so now it was simply time for the next step.
A small smile played on her lips, as she enjoyed thoughts of how to go about it - an imaginative woman like she could think of so many options. But it needed to be perfect. So like a suitor plans his proposal - she plotted how she might bring his eyes to widen, face to flush.
There was so much pleasure to be found in the planning of this most marvellous heart swelling thing.
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