I’m not quite sure when it happened but it seems autumn is finally upon us. One minute I had roses still blooming in my garden and the next day the leaves on my dogwood had turned a fiery shade of red. And I’ve still not got my bulbs planted out. I went out yesterday and dug a couple of pits (with a little helper) and chucked some in, in half hearted attempt but it didn’t seem to make too much of a dent on the supply. This happens every year. I order bulbs from a catalogue some time in the summer when I am all enthusiastic and the prospect of planting out the odd few hundred bulbs doesn’t seem that daunting, a challenge even, my mind fixed on the images in the catalogue and all the pretty flowers my garden will have in the spring. But when it actually comes to planting them out I remember how half of the bulbs got eaten by slugs the minute they put their shoots up and how I spent much of the spring looking at the neon pink tulip and then at the catalogue picture of the lovely pastel shade of pink and thinking how unfortunate I should have planted them right next to the neon yellow tulips, which should have been the palest of creams according to the catalogue.
But nevermind. My riotous spring garden with its jumble of colours can wait a few months, right now I’m busy enjoying the autumn shades and snuggling under a blanket as the nights draw in early.
Now I’m going to struggle to find a snippet related to autumn in either Braving Madness or my new WIP Held in the Balance as both of them are set in the spring. Rats. So I’ll just cheat and share a snippet from my new WIP just because I can. This is written in Lydia’s POV and her father is announcing her engagement to Lord Curzon to the rest of the tonne. He is not a man accustomed to making speeches…
Sir John tipped his head towards his future son-in-law. “I hope you realise what you’re getting yourself into Curzon, my boy. She’ll not be an easy handful. I should know, had to raise the chit myself for longer than I care to remember. Shouldn’t admit she’s used to wearing the britches about the house but I’m sure a man like you will be able to charm her out of them once you’re married.”
Lydia refused to cringe and thanked her lucky stars that she never blushed. This time the titters were loud enough to be heard even from the ladies clustered at the back of the hall. Her mother would have been mortified. Not that it had ever taken much.
“I can assure you I will do my utmost.” Lord Simon Curzon’s reply was uniform, nothing in the words to tell he had even noticed Sir John’s accidental innuendo.