YirumaVEVO. “Yiruma, (이루마) – Kiss the Rain.” YouTube, 09 Feb. 2012.
THE LINK BETWEEN MUSIC AND STORY:
I admit the song and story link this week is a bit of a stretch. It has been raining and there is rain in the story excerpt below, so I went looking for a song about rain. While I think that the most appropriate song for this excerpt would be Rain, Rain Go Away, I chose to go with the song above which is beautiful and is now part of my Music to Write By playlist.
FYI: This song does have lyrics that are rather sad. If you would like to see a video with the lyrics to assuage your curiosity (like I had to) here is a link:
EXCERPT FROM Her Heart’s Choice:
Alex paced the length of the green sitting room at Brownlow’s townhouse. Then, he peered through the window before turning and pacing the length in the opposite direction. “Blasted rain,” he muttered for the fourteenth time in the last half hour. There would be no riding in the park and no sitting on the step at Matlock House today. And at present, he did not know where she would be this evening. He had hoped to discover that bit of information when he saw her at the park.
“Blasted rain.” He inhaled deeply and rapidly and then exhaled just as quickly, as he turned to make yet another circuit of the sitting room.
“It is not necessary to wear holes in one’s boots before purchasing a new pair,” said Rycroft coming into the room. “Brownlow will be along soon.” He took a seat near the window. “I have come to learn that you are in town to marry my cousin.” He tossed his right leg over his left knee.
Alex stopped his pacing, tilted his head, and gave Rycroft an appraising look. “That is the plan if the rain ever stops.”
“Ah, yes, rain will put a damper on outdoor plans such as riding?” Rycroft raised a brow and steepled his fingers together in front of him. He smiled as he achieved the full attention of the man who was still wearing a path along the length of the room. “My uncle.” He chuckled. “And my mother. They seem to like you. I can’t imagine there is much more that I need to know about you that my uncle has not already told me. He does not shower praise to earn friends. He only speaks highly of those he deems worthy. It seems you are worthy.” Rycroft shifted slightly in his chair. “I almost feel jealous, for I do not believe I have ever earned such accolades as you have.”
Alex shook his head. “I do not know why he feels I deserve them.”
“You saved his horse,” Jonathan said from the corner and then turned his attention back to his book. “And your as upstanding as any man ever was, which is one of the reasons so many of us stand with you even when we do not agree with you. You are annoyingly correct.” He muttered the last bit in a tone that was very close to a growl.
“Have you met Mr. Lester?” Alex asked Rycroft.
“Not officially, but my uncle could not speak of you without speaking of him. You, Mr. Lester, also seem to hold my uncle’s good opinion.”
Jonathan inclined his head in acceptance. “That is Madoch’s fault,” he said with a smile, “as is most of the good fortune I have met in my life.” He stood, placed his book on the table, and bowed. “Jonathan Lester at your service, Lord Rycroft.”
“Please,” Rycroft waved the man back to his chair, “I do not stand on ceremony among friends, and since my uncle has spoken so highly of you both, I intend for us to be friends, unless there is an objection.”
“You will get none from me,” said Alex, finally taking a seat.
“Which means you will also get no objection from me.” Jonathan picked up his book again and ignored the pointed glare that Alex was giving him. “Not that I would have objected if I had been able to form my own opinion.”
“Read your book before I sack you.” Alex growled.
Jonathan chuckled and opened his book. “That is not possible. I am invaluable, you know.”
“Read your book,” Alex growled again.
Rycroft eyed the two. He had learned that one employed the other but that before that they had been best of friends and inseparable. According to his uncle, Madoch was the man with the grand ideas and Lester the one with the skills to assist in seeing them accomplished.
“Would you care for a game?” Madoch motioned to the chess set at the far end of the room. “I admit to being unable to sit unoccupied for any great length of time.”
“Especially when there is a plan that is being thwarted by rain,” Jonathan added from behind his book.
Madoch sighed. “Especially then.”
“You remind me of my cousin,” said Rycroft rising from his chair. “It was one thing at which I could best him. Richard and I use to challenge Darcy to a game of sitting. We would pick a place and an object to observe and then see who could hold their position the longest. I never won — Richard always did — but I also never lost. Darcy was always the first to quit the field claiming he had something that needed his attention.” Rycroft arranged his pieces on the board. “However, place a book or a tiring pile of estate papers before him, and he will out sit me every time.” He chuckled. “This is one game in which I hesitate to ever accept his challenge.”
