Free PoetsandPromises by Lucy Muir Page A

his wife.
    Bemused, Elisabeth glanced up at Lord Sherbourne as Shelley
sat on the ground and began to fold his paper.
    “If you recall, Miss Ashwood, Mr. Shelley has a fascination
with water and boats,” Lord Sherbourne said sotto voce as Mary Shelley
approached. “It appears that fascination extends even to the paper kind.”
    “Miss Ashwood, I am so pleased you were able to come,” Mary
Shelley said as she came up to Elisabeth. “Have you ever made a paper boat?”
    “No, I fear my education was lacking in that respect,”
Elisabeth answered.
    “Then allow me to show you how. Your maid as well,” she
added, noticing Molly standing a few steps behind her mistress. “Take your
sheet and first fold it thus,” Mary Shelley said, demonstrating.
    Elisabeth and Molly copied Mary Shelley’s actions and in a
few minutes had creditable paper boats. They broke twigs for masts, attached
the twigs to the boats and joined the gentlemen at the water’s edge.
    “When I give the word, you may launch your ships upon the
water,” Shelley ordered. “The last to stay afloat and moving wins, and all must
pay the winner a shilling.”
    At Shelley’s command the five launched their paper boats
into the water and before long Elisabeth found herself running along the bank
with the others, urging her boat to go faster and even stooping to try to blow
into its sails. Earlywine’s boat and Mary’s soon swamped, Elisabeth’s stuck
against flotsam, Molly’s floated to the shore and remained there. Only
Sherbourne’s and Shelley’s boats finished, Sherbourne’s winning by few inches.
    Flushed and laughing, the party retreated to a shady spot
near the trees and the losers cheerfully paid their shillings, except
Elisabeth, who had had no idea she might require to have coins upon her person
that afternoon. Mary Shelley pulled a rug from under the pile of belongings and
Elisabeth and Molly helped her spread it over the grass. Mary next took glasses
and a flagon of clear liquid from a basket, along with loaves of bread and
boxes of what appeared to be dried fruit. When the luncheon was spread out on
the rug everyone sat around the perimeter. Shelley reached for a loaf of bread,
tore a piece off and passed the loaf to Earlywine, who did the same. Mary
passed around the boxes of dried fruit, which turned out to be raisins. Glasses
and the flagon came next and when Elisabeth sipped from her glass she was
surprised to find what she had thought was white wine was water. All in all she
thought it a very odd luncheon, although the Shelleys ate with every appearance
of enjoyment and seemed to find nothing lacking. Elisabeth thought that
Sherbourne and Earlywine must find the repast as odd as she did herself but
they too ate with every appearance of enjoyment, far too well-bred to show any
surprise at the unusual collation.
    When the group had eaten their fill Mary repacked the basket
and Shelley flung himself on his back, stretching out on the rug. “Ah, what
more can one ask—bread, the staff of life, pure water, dried fruits of the
vine, good company and my lovely Mary.” He reached up to his wife and pulled
her head on top of him. Embarrassed at such a public display of affection,
Elisabeth looked away, and noticed a figure in the distance seated under a
large plane tree.
    “How odd,” Elisabeth said in surprise. “That person appears
to have an easel—could someone be painting outdoors?”
    Intrigued, Shelley released his wife and propped himself up
on his elbows, peering at the figure. “I do believe you are correct, Miss
Ashwood. Let us discover what he or she is doing,” he proposed, jumping up and
striding toward the figure. The others followed, also curious, except Molly,
who remained behind to tidy things away.
    As they neared the figure Elisabeth saw it was a woman and
that indeed she appeared to be painting. The artist had set up an easel and
chair, and a box of oils and a vase of brushes sat near her feet. As they
neared