#LesFicFri "SMELL"
It seemed strange going out without Polly, but she descended the stairs, went through the ballroom, and out on to the patio. The sun was descending in the west, but the stones were still warm beneath her feet.
The air was sweet from the ranks of flowers, and there was a gentle breeze bringing the earthy smell of the Downs. The occasional bleating of sheep punctuated the constant birdsong.
She was not wearing outdoor shoes, she had no parasol, and she had no one to accompany her.
“If I am the lady of the house, there is no one to tell me what I should or should not do.”
“Except your British propriety,” said Vionnet behind her. “A rule for every occasion, and no occasion without its rules.”
[...]
From THE TASTE OF VERONICA by Stephanie Bull (a pen-name of Steve Turnbull, from Book 2 of VERONICA’S LIFE)
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