((Oh dangs))
Winnie continued on her way, her rage so fervent that she wasn't even paying attention to where she was going. Yet, once it faded, she was completely lost. Looking about, she circled to try to gauge where she was. "Lady Winifred…" a voice purred from behind her.
Winnie turned to see Lord Crenshaw. She smiled. "Good morning!" she replied, taking a step towards him. He could guide her to the garden. "I'm afraid I drifted a little far from my mental map. I was looking for the garden." She gave a shrug with an 'Oh my, silly me…' shrug of her shoulder. Lord Chrenshaw gave a soft chuckle. "It's alright my dear… You aren't too far off." He came close and took her arm with one hand, the other resting on her hip. "This way…" he smiled and walked. Winnie followed.
After moments of silence, he cleared his throat. "How… how is he?" He asked. Winnie gave a shake of her head, confirming what he already knew, yet saying nothing he anything he didn't. "Oh.." he scoffed. "This is all my fault…"
Winnie looked up at him, "Not it is not. What he goes through is mental warfare due to tragedy. This has nothing to do with you. In fact, you've done the best you can." she placed a hand on his bicep. Giving him a sympathetic pat, she smiled. "You've done well for your nephew.."
His eyes brightened as he looked at her, yet it was different. The look that he gave her was one of fire. One of desire.
One of hunger.
And surely enough, the hand on her waist slipped a little lower and tightly, but just for a moment. Opening her mouth to express his incredulous behavior, he looked away, those hot brown eyes flickering elsewhere. "The garden, Lady Winifred…" he gestured to the glass double door in front of them that lead out into a forest of flowers and vines and trees. Then he left, turning away, and fading down a darkened hallway.
Winifred stood there, dumbfoundness and utter repulsive fighting within her.