Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn discussion
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August 28th - Embarrassment & Regrets
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Janga wrote: "I'm not sure. I have a guess. Is this from a novella?"Yes, it's a novella
nope! never read this. I would remember the woodchuck comment lol
Nope, I haven't read this. I, too, would remember the woodchuck comment. LOL
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Was this novella in an anthology? I may have read it, after all.
Charlene wrote: "Was this novella in an anthology? I may have read it, after all."Yes, it was originally published as part of the anthology Snowy Night with a Stranger
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Phoenix77 wrote: "Charlene wrote: "Was this novella in an anthology? I may have read it, after all."Yes, it was originally published as part of the anthology Snowy Night with a Stranger"
I did read it, then, when it was published. Memory loss is a bummer!
Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn
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Snowy Night with a Stranger (other topics)Snowy Night with a Stranger (other topics)
Snowy Night with a Highlander (other topics)
He could not imagine that the Highlands were anything like London. Her small boots passed by his face, turned sharply, and passed again. “I truly believed there would be some sort of enlightenment in London,” she continued, one hand waiving airily. “But I discovered that whole there are good souls to be found in London society, there are others who can be as mean-spirited and churlish as the Laird of Blackwood.”
There is was again, her complete disdain for the man that he’d been.
Her feet paused in their pacing; she suddenly squatted down beside him. “I donna mean to disparage your laird, if indeed he remains your laird and has no’ been shot in a duel or otherwise brought down.”
“But you have disparaged him, aye?” Hero asked curtly.
One lovely dark brow rose high above the other. “I did no’ mean to, I merely assumed he might have met with trouble, naturally, given his general disposition.”
Hero gave her a look that he hoped would end the conversation, but the lass was bold. Or oblivious. Instead of politely demurring as she ought to have done, she smiled as if she pitied him his laird. “I beg your pardon if I’ve offended,” she said sweetly. “But perhaps you do no’ know your laird as I have known him.”
“Have you known him?” he demanded, and hit the spoke with the flat of his palm. He hit it too hard – it shoved the spoke past the notch. Hero muttered under his breath and started the laborious process over again.
“I have,” she said.
“If I may ask, Lady Heroine, what’s he done to you to leave you with such an unflattering impression of his character?” Hero demanded.
“He likened me to a woodchuck.”
Hero stilled and glanced at her through the spokes.
She colored slightly and shrugged a little. “No’ that it matters to me, for it does no’ in the least.”
“A woodchuck?” he echoed disbelievingly. Now he doubted her completely. He never would have said such a thing about a lady.
But Heroine nodded adamantly. “It was such a silly thing, really. It happened at my debut, at Gunston Hall. My friend was having a bit of sport with me, and she suggested to your high and might laird that perhaps I might make a good match for him, and he said, ‘Heroine Haines?’” She mimicked him, speaking in a low voice and looking comically studious as she rubbed her chin with her hand. “‘Lambourne’s younger sister? Brown hair? About so tall? Slightly reminiscent of a woodchuck.’”
Hero blinked.
“Aha!” Heroine cried triumphantly. “You are no’ the least bit surprised, then! You know perfectly well that he’s wretched!”
Oh, but she was wrong. She was terribly wrong – he was surprised and appalled.
“His friends had quite a laugh at it, which undoubtedly encouraged him even further, for he turned to my friend Molly and said, ‘Thank you, Miss Elgin, but I’d sooner marry a woodchuck.’”
Heroine laughed, but it sounded forced.
“Perhaps Miss Elgin fabricated the conversation?” he suggested, hoping it was so.
“Why should she do that?”
Any number of reasons. Hero remembered Molly Elgin – she’d been rather keen to be near him, by any means she could devise.
“Oh, I’ve no doubt that Molly Elgin was up to no good when she broached the subject with him,” Heroine said airily. “Yet I know he said it, for I heard him. I was standing not two feet away. I heard him quite plainly.” Her laugh again sounded stilted, and she abruptly stood and began pacing again. “I hardly cared, mind you. I’d set my sights on London.”
A direct contradiction to what she’d said this morning, he noted. He swallowed hard – he was never prepared to be reminded of the man he’d been. Vainglorious and, apparently, cruel. He hit the spoke with the flat of his palm; it popped into the notches on the wheel. He grabbed the spoke and pulled hard to assure himself it was locked into place. Satisfied that it was, he disengaged himself from the wheel and stood up. As he stuffed his hands into his gloves, he said, “Knowing the laird, I rather imagine you are right – he surely said what he did for the amusement of his friends. Yet I am certain he would be ashamed and regretful if he realized the distress his words had caused you.” He looked at her from the corner of his eye. “I am certain of it.”