No cats fancying themselves as escapologists this week I’m afraid. Instead we’ve been taking advantage of the intermittent sunshine and getting a bit of work done in the garden. My garden is only small, nothing like the expanse of pleasure gardens of the tonne, but I still try and fit in as much as I can. So much so in fact that I pruned five wheel barrows worth of cutting this week and I’m currently digging up my front lawn to give me more space for plants. Sun on my back, fork in the soil, (can you call a mixture of stones and clay, soil I wonder) and an eager little helper with muddy hands at my side. What’s not to like?
In the extract below from Braving Madness, Edward might not have muddy hands, but they certainly are eager.
With no regard for the consequences, he stretched out a hand. “And I quite enjoyed our last experiment.”
Like a minx Betty pinched her lips together, dimples showing in her cheeks and swiftly standing, she neatly side-stepped his advance. “Not so fast.” She admonished him with a shake of her fan. “I came in here to avoid wayward hands.”
Edward looked down at his palms spread out before him, pouting his lips into an expression of mock offense. “A poor choice of words, wayward brings to mind disobedient.” He turned his hands over as if examining them for any sign of unruliness before lifting his gaze to meet hers and allowing a grin to trickle across his lips. “And I can assure you my hands would be doing precisely what I wanted them to.”