charlie_cochrane (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
charlie_cochrane) wrote2013-12-14 09:44 am
charlie_cochrane) wrote2013-12-14 09:44 am
Entry tags:
Seasonal free story - My True Love Sent to Me
Fancy reading about Orlando and Jonty having a seasonal falling out and an equally seasonal reconciliation? Read the rest here.
Excerpt:
“And I don’t understand why.” Orlando was sitting in the drawing room of the Master’s lodge with Miss Peters, who was dispensing tea and sympathy. He’d explained about the Oxford mathematician and the problem with his theory and Jonty’s paddy, and the note. And how he’d tried to make amends by offering Jonty a treat; tickets for an excellent lecture on the subject of mathematical machines that he was certain should have delighted his lover. Orlando wasn’t daft and realised his first idea for a present, a translation of one of Einstein’s papers on light particles, wouldn’t be any temptation. But Jonty had just turned up his nose at the suggestion of an evening out. And evenings in remained as unexciting as they had the last few days.
“You don’t understand why he showed no interest in the difference engine? No sonnets in there, I suppose,” Miss Peters commented. “Perhaps a little too serious for a first gesture of reconciliation. Have you thought of anything else that might break the ice?” She poured more tea, racking her brains as to how to knock some romantic sense into her guest’s head.
“Well I did think of buying him something. Like a new fountain pen—the current one blots everywhere—or a nice leather bound notebook. Ryder and Amies have some new socks in stock, too. They’re made from four ply lambs‟ wool and look particularly warm so I wondered…”
Miss Peters worked hard to keep her temper. His suggestions weren’t the type of gifts to woo a poetic soul. “Can’t you think of anything a little more…romantic?” But it was plain that, for the moment at least, Orlando had nothing more evocative in his brain. Miss Peters took pity on him, plied him with more cake, and nodded in determination. “I have an idea, or at least the germ of one. It’ll need a bit of ingenuity and patience but it might just work.”
“It had better,” Orlando muttered, and dutifully ate his cake.
Excerpt:
“And I don’t understand why.” Orlando was sitting in the drawing room of the Master’s lodge with Miss Peters, who was dispensing tea and sympathy. He’d explained about the Oxford mathematician and the problem with his theory and Jonty’s paddy, and the note. And how he’d tried to make amends by offering Jonty a treat; tickets for an excellent lecture on the subject of mathematical machines that he was certain should have delighted his lover. Orlando wasn’t daft and realised his first idea for a present, a translation of one of Einstein’s papers on light particles, wouldn’t be any temptation. But Jonty had just turned up his nose at the suggestion of an evening out. And evenings in remained as unexciting as they had the last few days.
“You don’t understand why he showed no interest in the difference engine? No sonnets in there, I suppose,” Miss Peters commented. “Perhaps a little too serious for a first gesture of reconciliation. Have you thought of anything else that might break the ice?” She poured more tea, racking her brains as to how to knock some romantic sense into her guest’s head.
“Well I did think of buying him something. Like a new fountain pen—the current one blots everywhere—or a nice leather bound notebook. Ryder and Amies have some new socks in stock, too. They’re made from four ply lambs‟ wool and look particularly warm so I wondered…”
Miss Peters worked hard to keep her temper. His suggestions weren’t the type of gifts to woo a poetic soul. “Can’t you think of anything a little more…romantic?” But it was plain that, for the moment at least, Orlando had nothing more evocative in his brain. Miss Peters took pity on him, plied him with more cake, and nodded in determination. “I have an idea, or at least the germ of one. It’ll need a bit of ingenuity and patience but it might just work.”
“It had better,” Orlando muttered, and dutifully ate his cake.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Thank you, dear Charlie! This was a delightful surprise!
Ciao
Antonella
no subject
no subject
"I did not want to think of you stuck beside the road, if the battery died," he said.
Not romance maybe, but actual love. I know that when Jonty is not angry he sees the love in Orlando's weird little brain.
no subject
BTW I got a book of Marlowe's plays from the library.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
PS orange creams yummy.
no subject
no subject
no subject