"What is this call, Boy?" boomed Brook.
"Pardon, Sir, but the lady had asked me to wake you." answered Boy. "I have brought water to wash the sleep from your eyes." He lifted the basin up to Brook where, after a moment he splashed the scented water up into his face then dried himself with the towel that hung over Boy's arm. "Your wish — my Lord!" uttered the boy, obediently leaving Brook's presence as the Lady entered the room. She carried a large cup and as Boy passed her she smiled at him and told him that he could go into the garden until he was needed again. He smiled in reply and thanked her, then hurried away.
Lady Dearborne was in a happy mood. She smiled warmly at her husband as she approached him with the cup full of broth. She extended to him her fair hand and when in reach, he took it gently into his own and guided her to his side. Her smile beamed as she bowed to him then sat down on the floor by his feet. She gently placed her head against his knee after giving him his broth. He drank it and sighed, and stroked her hand as she hummed a lovely tune for him.
He looked at her, taking in all her beauty, regarding her many years of love and loyalty with much pride. He believed that no man on Earth, in the past, present, or likely to in the future, felt as he does.
Dearborne was a vibrant woman, twenty-nine years of age, with beauty unsurpassed by any other in Phoride and the surrounding kingdoms. Her long brown hair ended in curly locks that fell in front of her and that decorated her creamy neck and shoulders, enhancing the fair, light smoothness of her bosom, which emerged from her low cut gown like the pinkish eggs of the great Kenttitian Eagle. Her totality glistened like the polished marble god-statues from Laurentine.
When she spoke, her voice was reminiscent of a loon gliding over still water, during an early morning mist. Her words displayed generations of knowledge which she had taken to her heart and mind, over her seemingly few but happy years of life, with her Lord Brook.
She ceased her humming as she ran her hand across her husband's calf. With affection, he returned the caresses to his love; his hand gently rubbing across her silky hair.
She spoke without looking up at him or breaking the rhythm of her strokes.
"You were not to bed, again, last night. I was worried and came down here to call you. You were asleep. I didn't want to disturb you — but it doesn't matter." she said, then she looked up at him and smiled. "I know that you were not keeping yourself apart from me." Brook moved his hand to her glowing face, stroked it and smiled at her. He gave her a longing kiss.
"I'm sorry, my sweet." he finally said as he helped her up off the floor and onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she put hers about his neck. They kissed one another, and held it for the longest time. "Did you close the drapes over the wall, and shut my cabinet door?" he asked her.