PUBLISHED TO YOUTUBE BY MEOWMEOWBB ON JUNE 25, 2011.
This is one of the songs on my Music to Write By playlist. It’s really pretty and has a wistful romantic air to it. It’s definitely just the right sort of music to get the writing mind working. I have decided to pair it today with this scene from His Darling Friend because Roger shares a sweet little remembrance about Victoria and a frog. Do you remember it from when it was the Sweet Tuesday story last year?
AN EXCERPT FROM His Darling Friend (Chapter 7):
“We will start from the top of the table, of course, with Amelia.” Mrs. Abernathy waited for her daughter to join her where she stood near the door to the drawing room in which all the houseguests were gathered to wait for dinner.
“Shall we see who it is who will dine with you?”
Miss Abernathy said an eager yes as her mother shook a bowl containing several small pieces of paper. She swirled her hand inside the bowl and pulled out a name. “Oh! How delightful! Mr. Carlyle.”
The gentleman straightened his jacket, crossed the room, and offered his arm to Miss Abernathy, whose waited only until her daughter and Mr. Carlyle had left the room before looking around and calling Victoria forward.
Of all the inane ideas! Roger crossed his arms and leaned against the wall near the window. The woman was obviously assigning gentleman dinner partners at random, but she was proceeding through the ladies based on status. Victoria was well-dowered. It was not something she published nor was it a fact she kept secret. He glowered at two gentlemen who had started whispering when Victoria’s name was called. He did not like it. His friend did not need any fortune hunters scampering after her.
“Mr. Clayton,” Mrs. Abernathy said.
Roger blew out a breath. It could be worse. She could have been stuck with Carlyle or one of those whispering gents.
Lady after lady was summoned forward and gentleman after gentleman was assigned as a partner.
“Is this not the best?” Grace said as she took Roger’s arm. “It is such a surprise! I do like surprises.”
“I do not,” Roger replied.
Grace giggled. “I will admit I had hoped I would be assigned someone different.”
“I hear Ainsley has a chit waiting for him at home,” Roger whispered.
Grace’s smile slid into a frown. “Does he indeed?”
“I have not asked him, of course, but that is what I have heard. We should proceed with caution.”
She tipped her head. “What do you mean we?”
Continue reading Music Monday: Remembering You (Robin Spielberg)