She’d rather had enough of books on pregnancy and feminine hobbies, thank you very much. Adrienne sighed, shifting her weight to avoid yet another uncomfortable sensation she couldn’t describe but was somewhere near her right hip if her estimation was correct. She ran a finger along the spines of the books, looking for the title she was looking for. And just as soon as she thought she was getting close, the title dropped from her mind like a stone.
“Zut…” she muttered, brow creased in concentration as she wracked her brain for the author’s name. But that was no where to be found either.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened. The other day Adrienne had gotten all the way to her room and into bed when she realized she’d left her book downstairs in the sitting room - even though the book was the only thing she’d gone down there for anyways. She was never this forgetful usually, and it rattled her that it seemed to be happening on more than one occasion.
“Olympe, do you —” Adrienne turned to find her lady’s maid no where in sight. “Olympe?” While turning around, she paused to sneeze.
She was met with a startled cry as a book flew out from the shelf and almost collided with the patron behind her. Adrienne stared in bewilderment. Had she just done that? The answer to that came in the form of another sneeze, and a second book and third book darting out from the shelf, this time to hover in mid-air about 3 feet above her.