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Shoutbox

Spiced Wine
06/23/17 10:45 pm
Thank you and happy Friday :) I am going to buy a cheap laptop soon so I can write properly
Encairion
06/21/17 01:54 am
Hi Spiced, good to hear from you :) I am sorry things been weighing you down, and work piling up. I hope a chance to relax and do what you love comes soon :hugs:
ziggy
06/21/17 01:25 am
Lovely to hear you are getting back, Spiced!
Alquien
06/20/17 06:16 am
Hope you are feeling better now Spiced. ((hugs))
Spiced Wine
06/19/17 07:18 pm
I hope you're all okay my loves. Such appalling things going on the last few weeks :( I am overwhelmed by that and a work backlog, but trying to get that done to write again. Hugs to all
Ysilme
06/11/17 01:37 pm
Have a great trip and a great time, Naledi!
Naledi
06/11/17 09:19 am
Thanks! Maybe I'll be inspired - who knows?
ziggy
06/10/17 01:39 pm
Have a lovely time, Naledi- how lovely. hope you are inspired to write something for all of us!!xx
Spiced Wine
06/09/17 10:25 pm
Wonderful! Your are so lucky, Naledi. Have a lovely time. Have a great weekend everyone!
Naledi
06/09/17 07:20 pm
Happy Friday, everyone! I'm off on holiday to Pembrokeshire for a week but I hope I'll have internet access.
Shout Archive


Star of Africa by Glorfindel

[Reviews - 34]   Printer Chapter or Story
Table of Contents

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Story notes:
Beta: Keiliss – thank you :D
Artist: Erulisse - Sandra Graves, Isis Rising, Artistic Endeavors with Wings of Light. http://www.IsisRising08.com (artwork) and http://erulissedances.livejournal.com (fiction)
Chapter notes:
December 1905 - Regent’s Lodge, the London residence of Count Glorfindel.

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 photo Chapter1Heading_zps6e263a67.jpg

December 1905 - Regent’s Lodge, the London residence of Count Glorfindel.

“I say, Fin; it’s getting a bit dark in here,” Bunchy Cheverell said as he poked the fire. Bunchy, a chum of mine who normally rooms at his club when in London was spending the holiday season with me instead of cruising around the Mediterranean with his aunt. She is a veritable dragon, ceaselessly expounding on the evils of drink and the questionable benefits of temperance.

I rang the bell and had to wait for two minutes before my housekeeper, Mrs. Clavell, appeared, causing me to wonder where the butler was.

“You rang, My Lord?”

“Indeed I did. It is getting dark in here.”

“I will ask Fosberry to light the gas lamps, My Lord.” She curtseyed and left the room.

Fosberry appeared almost immediately and set to his task. When the lamps were fully lit the whole room was bathed in a cosy glow, which contrasted starkly with the dimly lit street outside. Driving sleet slapped against the window panes and slid down to the sills, partially melting upon contact with the glass. I thought how fortunate I was to be in front of a warm log fire.

“Will that be all, My Lord?” Fosberry asked. I suspected that Mrs. Clavell was within listening range, otherwise he would not be so formal.

“That will be all, Fosberry, thank you,” I replied. “Mrs Clavell can serve tea.”

The paperboy outside in the street, beyond the gates of my house, yelled something about some jewels. Fosberry and I exchanged glances and smiled. “It would seem, My Lord, that you require a newspaper.”

“Indeed.”

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