Devlin wrote with his left hand, the first sheвЂ™d ever seen anyone do and one that she had to admit, had charmed her when she first met him. The inkwell with its loosely covered ink bottle (which she tightened) and the ink blotter were both arranged on the left side of the desk, and she found herself smiling. Far from it, it was neat, with everything in its proper place. She shouldnвЂ™t pry.Д«ut even Luna knew that it would only be a matter of time before sheвЂ™d casually walk over towards the shelf, delicately pry the letter carefully from between the two books, and sit down before his desk to investigate her latest acquisition. But the corner of the letter nagged at her, as if challenging her to pick it up.ДЄnd for a few minutes, she obediently stayed away from the shelf, where she often found him during some evenings, looking over figures of his investments or the income generated from the lands that his uncle bequeathed him.

Normally she never would have paid those prayer books any attention, for he always had other things more interesting to read in his study. Luna sighed as her eyes returned to the books on the shelf.

It was really just a pathetic imposter to his own study, which was why at every chance she could get, she would slip into his study and sit in his chair and read his books. Luna had asked Devlin to set them aside for her in his study, for her own receiving room вЂ“ a вЂladyвЂ™s studyвЂ™ he called it вЂ“ was still in the process of being decorated and was woefully devoid of books. The prayer books had been given to her by her godfather and were her only remembrances of the man. Judging by the postmark that she could see now, the letter was recent, sent from New York City, and tucked between two volumes of Latin prayer books on the shelf, next to the works of Shakespeare and Dante. No, sheвЂ™d come here for something else, something sheвЂ™d spied earlier as she watched him writing on a ledger while she was reading a bookвЂ“or trying to. But she had no intent to simply breathe in the air of his study. The smell of leather and dark woods greeted her as she pushed the door close, and she took a deep intake of breath to take it all in. Once assured that he was truly gone, his carriage now fading in the distance and the servants back to the downstairs kitchen to prepare for dinner and maybe do their usual gossiping about their masterвЂ™s exotic wife, she slipped into his office. He had been gone just twenty minutes, off to see a patient who required his immediate attention, and except for the tick-tock of the great clock in the receiving room, the house was silent. I wrote this last month so challenge-wise, itвЂ™s quite late вЂ“ and a bit long. What objects are in his desk drawer? John White Alexander 1856 вЂ“ 1915ДЄ short story based on the writing challenge above, featuring two characters in the novel IвЂ™m working on. Character sketch: If you are working on character development, think about your characterвЂ™s stuff.

Weekly writing challenge