Broken Silence
Date: 12th of July, 1904 Place: St Maur, Sea Front Status: Closed for @bernie-talbot
Despite living all his life in a coastal town, Zachariah could often go weeks without seeing the sea. It was not intentional, as far as he was aware, he was just a busy man, and he had no business down at the shorefront. The sea was a job and an obligation for some, but for him it was leisure, and he did not take it often.
Yet he’d found himself on the beach a few times recently. He was preoccupied and the rhythmic beating of the waves seemed to help order his tangled thoughts.
It was one of the rare cloudly days in July, and as such the seafront was not very crowded. Zachariah had stopped mid stroll along St Maur’s modest promenade to lean against a railing and stare out at the sea.
It was windy today too. So windy that it blew Zachariah’s hat right off his head. He whipped around to try and snatch it out of the air, but it was too late. It was stolen by the wind. Stolen and blown right into the skirts of Lady Bernadette Talbot. His outstretched arms sank back to his side.
It was very strange to see someone after a long separation. Once they had talked nearly every day, and now they had not spoken for months. The last time he had seen her he had hated her, or wanted to hate her, or thought he hated her. He wasn’t sure what he felt now.
He simply stared at her for a long moment. Probably longer than was polite. The Zachariah of two months ago would have been bothered far more by that. As he observed her he realised something else was strange. She was unaccompanied. She had no lady’s maid. The Zachariah of two months ago felt some spark of glee at this realisation. He didn’t know how he felt now.
“Lady Bernadette,” he finally greeted. “It seems you’ve saved my hat from a watery grave.”