She waited silently. Expectant. Impatient. Late, he hired a coach, forged ahead in the rain. Hooves churned mud. Water flooded wheel ruts. Thunder startled her. She flashed a glance at the grandfather clock. Her racing pulse, ticking visibly behind the translucent skin of her throat.
He and the driver stood in knee-deep mud, shoulders against the coach, straining to free the trapped wheel. She shivered and heard a rushing in her ears. Nerves or rain battering windows?
They freed the coach, lashed the horses. Realizing her foolishness, this meeting was not to be. With the intermezzo of Beethoven’s Fifth ringing in her ears, she slipped out the back. He rushed into the lobby, wildly Impatient. Expectant. A pounding rhythm and four discordant notes taring his heart apart…
Do you know Beethoven’s 5 Symphony?