So a while ago I wrote this little short for the Writer's Challenge. Please note that it is probably very derivative of my favourite historical author. I have all Georgette Heyer's books and they live on my Prozac shelf.
Runaway
If only she didn't have to walk. In spite of the horses standing idle, the carriage hadn’t been an option. Not without alerting Mama. Her soft kid boots were scuffed and dusty and Letty was almost sure she
had a blister on her heel. The pelisse,
so cosy in the early hours, now raised an unbecoming glow in the heat of
mid-morning.
Running away from home seemed fraught with
difficult choices. The distance to
Little Padbury that appeared an easy stroll from Beaumont now stretched into a
vast distance when encumbered by two hatboxes.
It was to be hoped that dear Mama would allow her trunk to be sent on
once she was settled in her new position.
To be sure, Mrs Leigh and her adorable sons may
be a little challenging for a young lady less than twelve months out of the
schoolroom herself. But after all, two
boys barely out of the nursery shouldn’t be harder to handle than the young men
a young lady encounters on her first season.
Indeed, very young boys were known to have an aversion to kissing.
Letty frowned at the memory of that kiss. It had ruined everything. Pleasurable at the time. In fact rather more than pleasurable. But the resulting proposal when the rakish
Duke had been caught by that prosy Mrs Pikely, had not been the way Letty
wanted to become the Duchess of Beaumont.
With a sigh, she stepped off the dusty road
and settled down on a tree stump, a hatbox on each side of her. Hopefully a farmer on his way to Little
Padbury might take her up in his wagon.
Untying her bonnet, she used the large poke to
fan herself. The sound of horses coming
at speed almost made her drop it, but they were coming from the opposite
direction to Beaumont. As the equipage
came around the corner, she recognised it as a high perch phaeton and
four. Driven by a Corinthian of the
first stare, as betokened by the numerous shoulder capes on his coat and the
reckless tilt of his hat on the dark, curling locks.
At first she thought he might sweep past her,
but at the last minute he checked his horses and her heart sank. His hawk-like visage was intimidating and
those grey eyes colder than a winters day.
A well set up man of close to thirty with powerful shoulders and strong
thighs in the tight fitting breeches. She
felt her heart beat a little faster. But
it was the long fingered elegant hands that drew her eyes as he held the high
fettled livestock with ease. Hands that
could be both strong and gentle.
“Going somewhere, My Lady?”
“Indeed yes.
But do not be concerned. I can
make my own way.”
“I doubt there will be any others on this
road. It’s not market day you know. You’d far better come with me.”
“But I’m going to catch the Mail at Little
Padbury. I intend to be a governess.”
“You’ve missed it for today. It comes through very early in the
morning. Come child, I’ll not hurt you.”
Reluctantly, Letty stood up, limping a little
as she approaching the phaeton. She was
tired and hot and thirsty and she only had a few guinea’s in her reticule.
Seated, not without difficulty, she waited
until they were bowling along at a rapid pace.
“I suppose you’ve come home to see if your bride is enceinte with the
expected heir.”
His glance raked her. “And is she?”
“No. So
I suppose we must go through the whole farce again.”
“Was my lovemaking so distasteful to you?”
“Oh no.
Well, perhaps it was a little painful at first. But afterwards…” She could feel the warmth rising. Her face must be blotchy but he continued to
look at her in the way that made her all prickly so perhaps he didn’t notice.
“Then why did you treat me like a pariah the
next day? All that prim and proper ‘My
Lord’ and not letting me kiss you.”
“Mama came in while you were out with the
bailiff. She reminded me that I must do
my duty as you have need of an heir. She
also said I must try not to notice you dined with Mrs Massey the eve of our
wedding.”
She sniffed unbecomingly and
continued in a mournful tone. “I fear I
am rather the noticing kind. But perhaps
I would not be a very good governess. I have
no talent for managing young men it seems. If you forgive me for running away and take me
home, I shall try to be a conformable wife to you Gervaise.”
“If you are going to throw every youthful indiscretion
at me, Letty, I shan’t think you conformable at all. I don’t suppose your Mama thought to tell you
Mrs Massey has been Moncreiff’s familiar for the last five years. I dined with both of them and several others
beside.”
“But I distinctly remember she was your very
special friend when we first met.”
“Your memory is very inconvenient. I’ll have you know I’ve been a paragon ever
since a scrubby little schoolgirl fell out of an apple tree at my feet and
stole my heart.”
Letty’s heart pounded in a disgracefully
unladylike manner. “She did? I mean, I did?”
“Have I ever lied to you Letty?”
“I don’t recall so. You’ve always been very kind. All the girls at Mrs Sutter’s Academy agreed
you sent the nicest bonbons.”
“Oh Letty,
you’ve been an unconscionable time growing up. I know you are still very young, but I
couldn’t wait any longer. Especially
with those young fribbles always hanging around. I wanted to be your first kiss. Your first everything.”
“But you were, you are. Besides, I’m seventeen and quite, quite
grownup.”
He laughed in a way that thrilled her. “Yes, my sweet. You are quite, quite grownup. In the nicest way.”
The phaeton slowed under his skilful
handling. And then he kissed her.
This is such a fun story! Thanks for posting it here.
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed it. Thanks for dropping by.
DeleteNow I want to know what happened before. And after. I love the tone of this, it is very Heyer-ey, but what could possibly be wrong with that!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely nothing of course ;)
DeleteA fun post as always
ReplyDeleteThanks Sara
DeleteLoved the post. But what happened before? Want to know...
ReplyDeleteOh, very clever. Nice writing, Fiona. You've obviously read your classic Regencies!
ReplyDeleteThank you. When I was a teenager I was sure I would be writing Regency romances. Then life intervened.
Delete