Mrs. King tilted her head and smiled at him as a proud mother might gaze upon a child who had done something of merit. “Now, see, Miss Grace, this is why I thought you should set your cap at him instead of Mr. Norman.” She shrugged. “But, it seems you were correct, and he is not free.”
No, he was not free. His heart was irrevocably gone both now and forever.
[from Her Secret Beau, Touches of Austen book 3]
Published to YouTube by AnneDarcy on January 8, 2008.
We’re stepping back a few decades for today’s song. I remember hearing this when I was young, but even then, it was not a new song. 🙂 However, it is a fun and uplifting song, perfect for a Monday morning.
On the list of all the people who were not to know about Mr. Blakesley, her sister sat at the top.
[from Her Secret Beau, Touches of Austen book 3]
Published to YouTube by Luisa Moreta Pérez on November 16, 2014
Today, I am only sharing one line from tomorrow’s story — but I think it is a good tantalizing line. 🙂 What do you think?
I’m also just plucking a song off my Music to Write By playlist because I listened to it several times this week while writing. And I did get a good bit of writing done this week.
I have reached the end of Addie’s story, but this one is going to need more work in the editing department than most of my stories do. I talk a bit more about why that is in tomorrow’s Austen Authors post. So, for the curious, you can find out there. 😉
To get to the end of Addie’s story and then figure out why it didn’t feel right meant that Addie’s was the only story I wrote on last week, so I am going to have to focus on my Tuesday and Thursday stories this week or next week there might not be anything to post. Yikes! 🙂
Welcome to a new week. I have information about a free Kindle book later in this post, but let’s first start with a little teaser excerpt from tomorrow’s Sweet Tuesdays story. (Are you ready to start making our way through some interesting twists and turns in this story?)
“Are you engaged for the next dance?” Mrs. Love asked as Felicity batted her lashes.
“No,” Walter replied, “nor do I plan to be. There is a cardroom which is, no doubt, missing my presence, although I may have to do my duty in regard to Mrs. King’s niece as I did promise to dance with her at least once after her arrival. It seemed the least I could do to help the girl settle into her new surroundings.” As he smiled at a somewhat affronted looking Felicity, his eye caught Grace’s attention on him.
“If you will excuse me.” He gave Felicity and her mother a bow and made his escape.
“I say, Blakesley,” Roger said as Walter joined him and his wife, who had just completed their set, “Miss Love is looking daggers at you.”
“Yes, I suppose she is.”
[from Her Secret Beau, Touches of Austen book 3]
Published to YouTube by Petru Dimetru on November 27, 2013.
Next, how about a gorgeous song that I think could definitely inspire a romantic scene or two. 😀 This one is on my Whatever for Whenever Spotify playlist which I was listening to again on Saturday as my husband and I drove around on a day trip that was successful but not as expected. (I have a few pictures below.)
Why was our trip not as planned? Well, we hit a detour on our way to view the Joggins Fossil Cliffs, and it turned us around a bit in our directions and delayed us enough that we did not get to go on the beach and find any fossils because the tide was coming in. So, we went down as far as we could toward the beach, took a few pictures, and then climbed back up to the parking lot where we decided maybe we could visit Fort Beauséjour – Fort Cumberland National Historic Site. Well, we were able to tour the grounds of the fort but the interpretive centre was closed for the season. 🙂 And yet, despite missing the objective of our journey due to the tide coming in and our alternate plan being closed, it was an enjoyable and therefore, successful day.
Can you see how fast the tide is coming in?
Another portion of the beach as the tide is coming in.
The picture includes that area of the fort. I’d be standing in the way of the cannon being hauled up the hill.
This is the storehouse/place for prisoners which you could see in the previous image.
An insignia on one of the cannons. This was a British fort during the reign of George III and the Regency Era.
My hubby only spent a few minutes in that chair waiting for me. It was a sunny, but cool and oh, so windy day.
In writing news, which is going to be excessively brief today, I had a very successful week of writing. I feel like I might just be settling into my new routine. I know it felt great to get so much writing done (over 11,000 words!) even if I am still behind on a few projects. I am not sharing from what I wrote this week, as I have decided to do something a bit different for a few weeks.
Getting back into a routine — especially if you are having to let go of summer — can make Monday’s more challenging than they normally are. 🙂 Therefore, I intend to give you something to look forward to on Mondays for a while by marking one of my currently in KU books down to the rock-bottom price of FREE. 🙂 This week, And Then Love will be free today and tomorrow (Sept. 16 -17, 2019).
Below is an excerpt from And Then Love. Make sure to pick this book up if you don’t already have it, and if you know someone who likes free books, tell them. 🙂
A note about the book:
And Then Love is a prequel to the events which happen in Pride and Prejudice. It is set at the time when Wickham is coming back to Darcy, looking to claim the living he refused. This book establishes the identity of Willow Hall and how it plays a part in Darcy's life. Se nsitive readers should be aware that Lucy's uncle is an evil, manipulative, abusive sort of fellow and does things which some might find unsettling. However, he gets his just reward.
[This excerpt is the true beginning of Lucy’s trouble, and Wickham is the nicer of the two villains when compared with Lucy’s uncle.]
The following morning, having already made her selections, Lucy stepped outside the milliner’s shop to wait for her aunt. A soft, cool breeze blew, tugging gently at her bonnet. She turned her face to the sun. It was pleasant to feel its warmth on her cheeks for the few brief moments she allowed them to be tilted upward. She would like nothing better than to remove her bonnet and drink in the sunshine, but her skin was fair, and where others would turn brown from the sun, she only turned painfully red. She glanced through the shop window and watched as the milliner’s assistant showed her aunt ribbons and lace. She smiled. Her aunt was never without an exquisitely decorated cap.
“Miss Tolson.”
Lucy’s heart skipped a beat at the voice. Slowly, she turned to face the speaker. “Mr. Wickham,” she said in greeting, with a quick curtsey and a nervous glance toward the shop.
“It is a fine day for shopping, is it not?” He shoved the small package he was carrying into the pocket of his greatcoat. “The sun is warm, the breeze is cool, and the shops are filled with smiling faces.”
“Indeed, it is a lovely day, Mr. Wickham. My aunt is just finishing placing an order for a new bonnet,” Lucy took a step toward the door to the shop. Although he wore a friendly expression, she knew better than to trust that there was anything akin to friendship behind his greeting. He had always been able to convince people of his sincerity with his flowery word and pleasant smile, but she had seen his true character displayed more than once while they were growing up. She also knew that he had been unsuccessful in his meeting with Mr. Darcy, which meant he would be looking for a new slant, a new approach, to gaining that which he desired.
“I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing.” Wickham stepped towards her. His features drooped with feigned grief, and his shoulders sagged just a bit. “He was a good man from all accounts.”
“He was,” agreed Lucy, watching him warily. His posture shifted just slightly. His shoulders rose and his countenance brightened, though Lucy was not certain if it would be more accurate to say he smiled with restrained delight or just mere cunning.
“I also understand that you are to marry. I believe the younger Mr. Dobney is the lucky fellow, is he not?”
Lucy glanced again toward the shop. She heart was beginning to beat more rapidly the longer she stood here talking to him, and her stomach began to twist into a knot. She wished desperately for her aunt to conclude her business and step outside. “He is,” she said.
“A rather sudden engagement, I hear.” An eyebrow flicked upwards as he smirked at her.
Lucy heard the hidden implication in his tone and read it in his expression. She wished to pull her pelisse more tightly about herself and turn away from his roaming eyes. “You have been busy catching up on all the news, have you not?” she said somewhat sharply.
He chuckled and allowed his eyes to roam her figure once again. “One hears things,” he said as he took his watch from his pocket. “Well, I must be off, or I shall be late.” He took two steps away before turning back with a most evil smile on his face. “Do you wish me to give a greeting to your uncle?”
Panic gripped Lucy’s heart. The world felt as if it was shaking, causing her to sway and struggle to keep her balance. “My…my…uncle?” she eventually forced out the words.
Wickham stepped closer once again and placed one hand on her elbow to steady her while he placed his other hand inappropriately low on her back. “Well, Tolson told me his arrival would come as a shock to you, but I had not expected you to nearly swoon.”
She pulled her arm away from him and took a step forward. “I did not almost swoon,” she snapped. “I was merely surprised that you know my uncle so well.”
He shrugged. “If you say so, but I suppose any lady who wished to pass herself off as chaste enough to be a parson’s wife would be worried to the point of swooning if she knew the stories that could be told about her.”
She wished to end this conversation and run to her aunt, who was still inside the shop, but her feet were rooted to the spot where she stood. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head. “There are no stories,” she said.
He shrugged once more. “If you say so.”
“I do say so. There are no stories.”
He laughed. “Oh, Miss Tolson, there are stories.” He picked at a piece of lint on the jacket of his coat. “I am sure an arrangement can be reached where you can continue to be thought of as a paragon of virtue.”
“An arrangement?” She remembered the same word being used by her uncle when he had discussed her becoming the young bride of the man to whom he owed money. The pieces were beginning to fall into place in her mind. Although still wary and fearful, she was becoming increasingly angry at Wickham’s hints of knowing some secret. Pushing her fear to the side, she drew a fortifying breath and asked the question that would confirm her suspicions about her uncle and Mr. Wickham being associates. “Mr. Wickham, exactly how do you know my uncle?”
Again, he shrugged. “I grew up here. Everyone knows your uncle.”
She shook her head. “No, he left when I was quite young, and you are not that much older than I am. You would not have been old enough to have formed such an intimate acquaintance before he left.” She cocked her head to the side and studied Wickham’s face. His eyes shifted uneasily under her scrutiny. “You have met him since.”
“Very well,” admitted Wickham. “We have been friends and business associates for just over a year.” He took a step closer to her, and any false pretense of friendliness left his features. “But, I assure you, there are tales that can be told. You would do well to be more receptive to his offer when he visits you this time.”
Dread settled in Lucy’s stomach, but she dared not acknowledge it. He had seen her fearful reaction once; to offer him a second glimpse of the terror her uncle brought to her heart was not something she was willing to do. “Tell him,” she said as calmly as she was able, “that he may call for tea tomorrow. I am sure he is anxious to see that the estate is in order and ready for its transfer. You may assure him that it is.” The door to the milliner’s shop creaked behind her. “Good day, Mr. Wickham.” She bobbed a quick curtsey and turned toward her aunt, who was just exiting the store.
…“I did not know Mr. Blakesley had a lady,” Grace’s new bench mate said. “Indeed, I have never seen him with any lady in particular in all the time I have been in Bath.”
“Oh, she is not from Bath.” Grace’s stomach twisted at the idea of spreading gossip about Walter.
“I do not see how she could not be. I do not believe Mr. Blakesley has been gone from Bath for these past six months.” She leaned a bit closer to Grace. “Not even at Christmas time. His parents came here.” She clucked her tongue. “If he has told you he has a lady somewhere other than in Bath, he has not been honest with you.” She sighed. “And I find it difficult to believe he would be so deceptive.”
[from Her Secret Beau, Touches of Austen book 3]
Published to YouTube by greencat9 on July 22, 2007
This video has nothing to do with tomorrow’s chapter of Her Secret Beau but everything to do with how Lord Westonbury might be feeling about his relationship with Mary and where my brain kind of needs to be while writing their story at present. It also has to do with the fact that I was given the privilege of reading the first draft of a North and South short story which Rose Fairbanks has written for an anthology that she is in with several other authors called Falling for Mr. Thornton. You can keep up with the project on their Facebook page if you are a Facebook user.
Currently, as I am attempting to write this rapidly on Saturday, hurricane Dorian is beginning to make his presence known. The wind is picking up and the rain is pelting down, but we still have power. However, we know that the power will eventually go out as the storm settles in. That’s why I am attempting to dash this off as quickly as possible. 🙂 Continue reading Music Monday: You Don’t See Me (North and South)
He shook his head. “No, it not much older than you.”
“Indeed? Is it very modern within?”
“I shall let you determine that.” He waved his hand toward the door which stood, waiting for them to enter, and smiled with a great deal of satisfaction at her exclamation upon entering just ahead of him.
“I believe she likes it,” Graeme muttered behind him.
“I would say you are correct.” And Walter was as delighted by that fact as Grace was by the flooring and the second door that separated the foyer from the interior of the house. He had hoped she would like his house, for he was beginning to hope quite seriously that it would one day also be hers.
[from Her Secret Beau, Touches of Austen Book 3]
Published to YouTube by Dave Barnes on Feb 10, 2015.
Tomorrow, Grace is going to finally get to see Walter’s townhouse, and they will get to spend a little bit of time alone together. Speaking of visiting houses, last Wednesday, I got to visit two Georgian Era houses, as well as a Victorian Era wool carding mill, while doing some exploring along the south shore of Nova Scotia with my husband. I will share some pictures from my exploring below.
