199 words, and snippet from a historical romance circ 1800s: adapted to accommodate the required words for the challenge.
Putrid miasma of strange fungi lingered in the woodland and drove her to the tower in haste. Trespassing as usual she climbed the stone steps to the very top, where the air was fresher and the view spectacular.
A strange dream the night before had come to life with every step taken, though akin to lacuna for she could not define every aspect of the dream. And, as in the dream, a butterfly emerged from a crevice and alighted on her shoulder. Perhaps the warmth from the sun or the pale lemon colour of her gown caused it to spread its wings and oscitate. Inattentive to the glorious view and enchanted by her brightly coloured companion, a barely noticeable whisper of air brushed her face in passing. But a glimmer of bright reflective light caught her eye as it crept eerily across the inner parapet of the tower.
“Yours I believe.” The deep timbre in voice caused her heart to stall.
She turned to see Lord Devonish sporting a tiny hand mirror, the one she had lost from her drawstring purse weeks beforehand.
“Serendipity, Miss Davenport, or sychronicity of like minds seeking sanctuary within this Godforsaken folly?”
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