The Golden Perch Inn - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Celuien · 06-04-2006, 07:54 AM

Rowan sailed out into the common room, leaving Primrose in the kitchen to laugh at the idea of fighting tooth and nail over the ostler. Poor Will. It seemed that Rowan was going to enjoy playing the part if she got the chance.

Primrose, on the other hand, was a little bit uncomfortable. Will's plea (a joke, she was sure), made her blush. Why? She was used to banter about weddings. It was almost a tradition among her sisters, cousins and friends. She felt her ears burn again with the sudden realization that Will hit a little too close to home with his teasing - Primrose wouldn't have minded being mentioned as an eligible lass in one of his letters.

Now you stop that, Miss Primrose Smallburrow, she chided herself. You're being naught but a silly goose. She hoped that Cela wasn't serious about her plan. If so, it would be terribly uncomfortable for her to play her role. Primrose frowned. Then again, maybe there was no better cure for her silliness than to play at being one of Will's prospects. It would show her just how ridiculous she was.

Looking a summer thunderstorm, Primrose began mixing another batch of biscuit dough. As she cracked an egg into a little mound of flour, she asked Cela, "Did you really mean it? About Will, I mean." She kept her face down, studying the flour in the bowl, determined to keep her composure. Fold and knead, knead and fold. If she concentrated on the biscuits, maybe Cook wouldn't notice her discomfiture.

06-04-2006, 07:54 AM	#11
Celuien Riveting Ribbiter Join Date: May 2005 Location: Assigned to Mordor Posts: 1,767	Rowan sailed out into the common room, leaving Primrose in the kitchen to laugh at the idea of fighting tooth and nail over the ostler. Poor Will. It seemed that Rowan was going to enjoy playing the part if she got the chance. Primrose, on the other hand, was a little bit uncomfortable. Will's plea (a joke, she was sure), made her blush. Why? She was used to banter about weddings. It was almost a tradition among her sisters, cousins and friends. She felt her ears burn again with the sudden realization that Will hit a little too close to home with his teasing - Primrose wouldn't have minded being mentioned as an eligible lass in one of his letters. Now you stop that, Miss Primrose Smallburrow, she chided herself. You're being naught but a silly goose. She hoped that Cela wasn't serious about her plan. If so, it would be terribly uncomfortable for her to play her role. Primrose frowned. Then again, maybe there was no better cure for her silliness than to play at being one of Will's prospects. It would show her just how ridiculous she was. Looking a summer thunderstorm, Primrose began mixing another batch of biscuit dough. As she cracked an egg into a little mound of flour, she asked Cela, "Did you really mean it? About Will, I mean." She kept her face down, studying the flour in the bowl, determined to keep her composure. Fold and knead, knead and fold. If she concentrated on the biscuits, maybe Cook wouldn't notice her discomfiture.