Work Text:
Arabella was sitting in the drawing room when Miss Greysteel found her. Her back was very straight, the way it always was when she was troubled and trying not to show it. She was sitting at the window but Miss Greysteel could tell from the tilt of her head that she was not looking out of it.
‘Arabella?’ She asked, chossing her words carefully. ‘Are you well?’
‘Quite well,’ Arabella said, standing up and affecting to look as though nothing was wrong.
‘Arabella?’ Miss Greysteel asked. ‘What is the matter?’
Arabella indicated a vase behind her and Miss Greysteel gasped. What she had assumed to be some kind of glass ornament was in fact a bouquet of living flowers or perhaps the ghosts of flowers. They were made of highlights and shadows with no substance in between and quite beautiful to look at.
‘It’s Jonathan,’ she said, her voice tight but perhaps, Miss Greysteel thought, a little pleased. ‘He remembered her anniversary.’