My story from the painting, the prompt supplied by Jane Dougherty. Thank you Jane!
Margarita waited at the river on the predetermined night … just as she had promised. She brought his faithful dog though she thought, five years passed would surely have switched his allegiance. Margarita tried not to remember the promises once made for fear of being a fool, she had not spoke of her secret beau or told a living soul why she thwarted all advances. Her parents had not taken kindly to her refusal to commit to suitors presented frequently over the period. Mother couldn’t comprehend why such a rough working hound was loved so dearly, as Margarita had kept him close for many a year.
A fluttering in her tummy and less than calm colouring was thank goodness disguised by the moonlight. Patiently they waited by the waters edge, she questioned her memory, tried hard to recall the tone of his voice, the turn of his strong jaw. Now only time lay between Love and a broken heart.
Dog lifted his head, pricked his ears and with a low grumble he rose from the bank. Margarita didn’t notice as the wind filled her ears she continued to gaze in the other direction. Dog’s grumbles became unmistakable growls, she turned to sooth him when in the distance she caught sight of it. A canal boat, there on the bow stood the unmistakable figure of Iliya, his wavy hair flopping carelessly over one eye as the wind ruffled it, a flat cap he pushed to the back of his head and the teeth… how she longed to feel the nibbles down her neck, and see the broad smile showing those teeth. As man leapt a ground, dog slipped from his lead and pounded towards him. Margarita hand on her beret gazed on. Her beau had come as promised, he left as a penniless artist, to earn enough to come for his bride. Her heart was lodged in her throat as he swept her off her feet and carried her aboard her new home…
“Have you been swept off your feet?
Were you brush in hand doing the sweeping?
leave me a note I won’t tell your secrets…