Word Painting Blogfest

Thank you to Dawn Embers for hosting this blogfest.

Old school romance is very flowery. My husband once joked that every noun had to have at least two adjectives.I don't write like that. The authors I enjoy reading do not write like that. I think it's much more effective to create the ambiance of the environment without overdoing it. I'm not reading poetry, I'm reading a story and I want to know what happens without cluttering everything up with too much description.

But I do want to be immersed in the story, and the description helps.

My entry is from my W.I.P., Courtly Christmas. It is set in a winter garden. I wanted to give the feeling of the environment, the beauty and the cold, but not overdo it.

White snow dusted the garden. The plants themselves had no hope of surviving the chill, but for the moment, they looked magical. Frozen in time.

Anne laughed as a clump of snow fell on Mary’s head. Mary shook the hood of her cloak, spraying Anne with flakes.

Mary took a deep breath and felt the chill sting her nose. “I have always loved winter.”

“ I remember that.”

Arm and arm the two ladies took their time. Being outside in a frosty garden triggered a memory. Mary laughed out loud at thought of one instance. “Remember that year that the Signore Pantalones was meeting with Lady Burghley’s companion in the still room?”
“Yes, and we waited outside for hours, hoping to catch a glimpse to see if he really was as hairy as he seemed.”

“He had hair tufting out of the top of his ruff. It was disgusting.”
Anne lowered her voice conspiratorially. “It was even more disgusting when we saw what he and Lady Collins were doing in the still room.”

“Aye.” It had only been disgusting because Signore Pantalones was the one doing it. Mary had never liked the greasy, little man. “I caught the ague from being out in the cold so long.”

“And father found out and had Lady Collins sent back to her family.”

Both ladies laughed together over the reminiscence, but Mary could not help but wonder whatever had become of Lady Collins? Had her family accepted her back? Had she married? What if she had gotten with child?
“Anne, have you heard anything more about Lady Collins?”
Anne paused at the odd question. “No. Why would I?”
“I just wondered. She had been in your mother’s household for a few years – almost like family at that point.”

Anne did not respond, focusing her attention instead on a frost encased bloom. The Queen’s privy garden was guarded by a high wall, so they were well protected from the wind. The snowfall from last night was even, covering all the foliage. The groundsman must have been out first thing that morning to clear the paths. Mary could feel the chill working its way through her woolen gloves and clapped her hands together to warm up. Everything around her sparkled like a fairy story; Mary wondered if Anne could even see the beauty around her.

Mary chose her words carefully. “Do think it is fair that Lady Collins was sent away but Signore Pantalones stayed on for three more years?”
“He was our dance master – we needed him.” As always, Anne was matter of fact.
“But his behavior was just as scandalous as hers. Even more so, perhaps.”
Anne scoffed. “Mary, you are always so righteous. You have to learn the way of the world. Right or wrong, fair or no, it is what it and we abide by the rules.” Anne increased her step. “If you had behaved as you should the other night, you would not be in the trouble you are now.”

Mary sucked in a breath, too fast, in shock. The cold made her choke. Coughing she asked, “What would you have had me do? Smile docilely while a man threatened to rape me?”

“That man was an earl. My earl. You owe him your subservience.”

How much subservience was Anne talking about? “What if he had followed through?”

Anne straightened her posture and looked Mary in the eye. “I have thought about that. If he chose to take his pleasure with you, I would not blame you. We would be able to continue our friendship so long as he did not form any affection for you. It is the way of court and we both must accept it.”
Mary had nothing to say. There was nothing she could say. Clearly Anne was not the friend Mary thought she was. It was odd – that knowledge didn’t even make her sad. Angry, maybe? No, she had nothing to say.

They walked on in silence. Mary focused on breathing evenly and keeping her mouth closed. Flurries had begun to fall and she did not wish to start coughing again or she might throw up.

She might throw up anyway.