by Linda Banche
Mr. Norris’s jaw dropped. Then he scrambled up and bolted out the doorway, shoving aside Felicity’s mother.
“Gracious, Mr. Norris, your manners!” With a hand to the door frame, Mama steadied herself as she flung a withering glance after the fleeing scoundrel.
The banging of running footsteps and then the opening and slamming of the front door battered their ears.
Shaking her head, Mama walked in and coughed. “What is this? Smoke? What happened?”
“Mr. Norris is despicable.” Felicity rose and motioned Frank back to the sofa. As she dabbed ointment on his hands and then bandaged them, she related the tale of her outing, and finished up with the scene involving her manuscript.
Her mother’s face paled. “I had no idea.”
The maid who had brought the bandages curtseyed. “The sweeper girl be in the kitchen now. She told us the whole story. Dreadful man.” The servants murmured their agreement.
“I will not wed him.” Felicity pulled the ends of Frank’s bandage a little too hard.
He flinched.
“Sorry.” No matter what arguments her mother mustered. She loosened the ends and knotted off the fabric.
“No, you are right, my dear. He is well gone.” Mama returned to the entrance. “I will send for tea. Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Wynne. We have a great deal to thank you for.” She ran her fingers down her skirt. “I apologize for my coolness toward you. You are much the better man than Mr. Norris.” She quit the room.
Frank expelled a harsh breath. “Now, what do you make of that? Finally, I am in your mother’s good graces. I suppose that was worth a few burns.”
“I never wanted you to hurt yourself.”
He flexed his fingers again and his mouth tightened. “I will do whatever I must to protect you.”
Her heart racketed around in her breast like a bird—or maybe a duck—on the wing.
Suddenly shy, she rolled up an unused length of bandage. “I cannot think how I would have managed without you. I am most glad you arrived when you did.”
“So am I. But, I daresay you would have handled Norris as capably as you did in the park. Brava.” He clapped once, winced, and then set his injured hands on his lap.
“Mayhap.” She set the folded bandage on the table and then screwed the top onto the ointment jar. “You defended me against Mr. Norris just as Mr. Tail Feathers did his mate. I shall bring him a whole loaf of bread the next time I visit.”
Frank crooked an eyebrow. “You compare me to a duck? I know not whether to be flattered or insulted.”
“Flattered. Mr. Tail Feathers is a hero, as are you.” She pushed the bandages and ointment to the side. “My hero.”
“Do I get a loaf of bread, too?” A distinctly roguish glint lit his eyes.
Frank, her Mr. Bingley, a rogue? Well, she just might like him that way. She lowered her voice to a sultry purr. “No, you get lemon biscuits. A mountain of lemon biscuits.” And there will be more, I hope.
“I look forward to that.” Then he looked down. “I must apologize for my behavior yesterday.”
“No apologies are necessary, but I did worry. What happened?”
His lips flattened. “I let Norris get my goat.” He related his conversation with Mr. Norris. “I realize now he was warning me off, but, for a moment, I believed him. When I left you, I went to the park and commiserated with Mr. Tail Feathers. Somehow, seeing him with his lady helped me sort things out. Then I went home and reread the passage in your book where Bingley is angry with Darcy’s attempt to detach him from Miss Jane, and disregards his friend’s advice.” His smile returned. “I will follow the lead of the Bingley in your book, not Miss Austen’s.”
“Because you are my Mr. Bingley. Yesterday, I had a revelation, too. Although I did not know it when I wrote Opposites Attract, you were the model for my Mr. Bingley. A hero in all ways.”
“You think so?” He pressed her open palm to his heart. “Felicity, at first, I was happy to see an old friend, but my feelings have changed. You mean more to me than any friend ever could.”
“And you mean more to me.” So much more. She cradled his cheek in her palm.
He closed his eyes for a second and his chest slowly rose and fell. Then he smiled. “We have much to thank your writing for.” He kissed her palm.
She shivered. Gracious, never before had a kiss on her hand sent flutters through her. “And Mr. Tail Feathers, too. I vow, next time I go to the park, I will bring him two loaves of bread.” She slid her hand into her lap and curled her fingers to keep the kiss within.
“As will I. Mr. Tail Feathers will become the biggest duck in the park. A veritable four-curly-tail-feather specimen.” He caught both her hands and laced his fingers with hers as much as the bandages allowed. “I hope he does not become too fat to fly.”“Never. He will always be the handsomest of drakes. Besides, I am sure he will share with his lady.”
“And we can spend our time on your writing. You writing the books and me publishing them.”
“Oh, yes, I would like that.” And to have you kiss me.
“Difficult as it was, I enjoyed wrangling with the printers and seeking subscribers. I think I would prefer that to life as a clergyman. And if we succeed, I can convince my father the church would not suit me, especially if I suggest a satisfactory replacement candidate.”
“As I would prefer to write rather than wed Mr. Norris.” She fiddled with a loose thread on one of his bandages. “I have some good news. Selina promised to help with any expenses we cannot meet.”
He guffawed. “I suspect she is more interested in securing Russell’s presence, but we will accept whatever aid we can find. Although we do not need her yet.”
“How so?” She settled their joined hands in her lap.
“Now for my good news, which I meant to tell you yesterday. I convinced the printer Russell recommended to publish one hundred copies of your book with pasteboard covers at eleven shillings apiece. That ought to pay the expenses and more for this first batch. Russell is in alt.”
“Oh, how grand!” She squeezed his hands gently. “You are such a hero!”
He grinned. “Keep that in mind.”
“I have more good news.” Ribbons of light flooded into her heart, shredding any remaining darkness. “Selina asked Mama and me to stay with her for a while. So, I shall be here indefinitely.” How magnificently this beastly day had turned out! “What a wonderful Christmas we shall have. Together.”
He pressed another kiss into her palm. “Yes, together.”
THE END
####
Thank you for reading A Distinct Flair for Words. I hope you enjoyed the romance and adventures of Felicity and Frank. If you did, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Thanks!
Linda Banche
Author’s Note
The British Museum was the official repository for books printed in the United Kingdom until the creation of the British Library in 1973.
The Regency gold sovereign coin, first minted in 1817 as part of the Great Recoinage of 1816, had a value of one pound or twenty shillings.
In today’s money (as of 2011), the average value of an 1818 pound is approximately $86 USD or fifty pounds GBP. Pride and Prejudice, which sold for eighteen shillings in 1818 would cost about $77 USD or forty-five pounds GBP today. Calculation from Measuring Worth at http://www.measuringworth.com/calculators/exchange/index.php
About Linda Banche
Welcome to My World of Historical Hilarity!
I'm Linda Banche, and I write witty, sweet/sensual Regency romances with nary a rake or royal in sight. Most contain humor, some fantasy, and occasionally a little paranormal or science fiction. But comedy is my love, and I've created my own wacky blend of humor and Regency with stories that can elicit reactions from a gentle smile to a belly laugh.
Like many other romance authors, I read romances for years before I wrote my own. Once I tried, I quic
kly discovered how difficult writing is. Did I stop? No, I'm persistent—that's French for "too stupid to quit".
I live in New England and like aerobics and ducks.
So, laugh along with me on a voyage back to the Regency era. Me and my ducks. Quack.
Connect With Me!
Email: [email protected]
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Discover Other Titles by Linda Banche
Love and the Library
A Similar Taste in Books
A Mutual Interest in Numbers
A Distinct Flair for Words
Book 4 (Trant’s Story) Coming Soon
The Regency Star Travelers
A Gift from the Stars
Other Books
Lady of the Stars 2010 EPIC Ebook Contest Finalist
Pumpkinnapper 2011 EPIC Ebook Contest Finalist
Mistletoe Everywhere
Gifts Gone Astray
An Inheritance for the Birds
Excerpt from A Similar Taste in Books, Part 1 of Love and the Library, Available Now!
Love and the Library
A celebration of the beginnings of love wherein four young Regency gentlemen meet their matches over a copy of Pride and Prejudice at the library.
Chapter 1
London, England
June, 1818
“Pride and Prejudice again, I see.” The thin, bespectacled clerk behind the circulating library counter at Hookham’s Bookshop curled his lip.
Mr. Justin Fellowes cleared his throat. “For my sister.”
“Indeed. The ladies enjoy these novels by Miss Austen.” The clerk sniffed. “I cannot understand why. All that talk about love and marriage.” He added the novel’s three volumes to Justin’s other selection. “I daresay, there is no accounting for taste.” Paper crackled as he wrapped the books.
Justin cracked a smile. “As you say.” How surprised would you be, my man, if you knew I am the one who reads “Pride and Prejudice”.
Justin’s liking for novels was his dark little secret. Many men, including Mr. Collins in the novel, loudly ridiculed the books. They were widely regarded as rubbish although, in all the libraries and book shops Justin had visited, the collection of novels was the largest one there, and probably also the most lucrative.
Pride and Prejudice was his favorite novel. He loved the wit and intelligence in the book. But most of all, he loved Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Justin’s heart warmed. Lively, intelligent, fiercely loyal, she was sometimes wrong, but willing to change her mind when more information appeared. And beautiful. Although the book never described her, such a lady must be beautiful. A veritable goddess.
The clerk consulted a ledger at his side. “According to my records, you have borrowed this book three times in the past two months.” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “If your sister likes the novel so much, perhaps you should buy her a copy.” His disapproval vanished, replaced with a thin-lipped smile that was nothing short of irritating. “In the shop section, we have many copies for sale.” He gestured toward the front room.
Justin didn’t spare a glance for the other portion of the establishment. Patrons must pass through the shop before reaching the library, no doubt to encourage buying rather than borrowing. Book prices were high, due to the tax on paper, but Hookham’s had found a way to profit both from those who could afford to purchase and those who couldn’t. Still, Justin loved books and would prefer to buy Pride and Prejudice. Perhaps, if he saved a few pennies a week, he could afford a copy bound with paper-covered boards and forgo adding the leather or cloth binding.
The clerk secured the folds of paper around the parcel with a length of twine. “I would be most happy to fetch you a copy.”
“I will think on it.” With a curt nod to the officious clerk, Justin gathered up his package and stepped back. He collided with the person next in the queue. “I beg your par—”
Before him stood the loveliest lady he had ever seen. She was short and willowy, her dark pink muslin walking dress emphasizing every slender curve. Deep brown curls peeped from the sides of a gauzy matching pink bonnet to frame an oval face. Her skin was creamy, her nose straight and proud.
Miss Elizabeth Bennet! The lady of his dreams! His jaw sagged.
“No harm done, sir.” The vision lifted a shapely dark eyebrow. “If I may reach the clerk?” Merry chocolate-colored eyes twinkled up at him and sweet rosy lips dimpled in an amused arch of a grin. A whiff of lilac perfume, delicate as the lady, wafted toward him.
He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. “Oh, sorry.” Damn him for gaping like the veriest fool. Hugging his package to his chest, he stumbled away from the young lady and the plainly dressed woman, most likely her maid, who stood beside her. The maid flashed a grin as if she knew every one of his admiring thoughts.
He bumped into the table by the counter, and pain lanced through his elbow. Cradling his bundle with one arm while rubbing his throbbing forearm, he pretended to study the list of new books on the table, but kept his gaze fixed on the young lady. She was exactly as he had imagined Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Who was she? And how could he make her acquaintance?
***
Miss Clara Haley set her books on the counter and darted a glance at the tall young man perusing the list of new books. High cheekbones, a blade of a nose and a firm chin presented a most pleasing masculine face. His hair was black and cut short in a fashionable but restrained style. An unruly lock fell across his forehead, and he brushed the hair back with an impatient hand. When they had spoken, his slate-grey eyes had glinted with intelligence, humor and distinct male appreciation. A little feminine thrill at his regard still raced through her.
Like most men, he wore a double-breasted ink blue tailcoat, buff-colored trousers and shiny black half-boots. A grey waistcoat and utilitarian knot in his white cravat completed the modest simplicity of his attire. Unlike most other men, he was broad of shoulder and narrow of hip. The hard muscle that had pressed against her for the brief second they touched proved he needed no padding to achieve that breathtaking masculine form.
An unfamiliar wave of heat enveloped her. Gracious, what a handsome man. He looked just how she pictured Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the hero of her favorite novel, Pride and Prejudice. And he held a packet of books. Could he possibly share her love of reading?
How could she meet him?
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Excerpt from A Mutual Interest in Numbers, Part 2 of Love and the Library Available Now!
Love and the Library
A celebration of the beginnings of love wherein four young Regency gentlemen meet their matches over a copy of Pride and Prejudice at the library.
Laurence had been here at the library only once before and he hadn’t paid much attention to the place. Why borrow books, when he had enough money to buy whatever he liked? Not that he was much of a reader. These days, he mostly perused news sheets and magazines, and White’s always had the latest copies.
“May I help you, sir?” The clerk raised his eyebrows as he handed the tome he had wrapped to a patron.
“No, not right now, thank you.” The clerk didn’t look like much of a dragon. Books were expensive due to the tax on paper. How could the shop have entrusted their valuable merchandise to such a meek defender?
“Do you have an account here?”
“No.”
The clerk’s eyebrows lowered and his eyes shot fire, for a disturbing second transforming him into the f
erocious dragon guardian of the books. “I remember you. You were one of the rowdy lads who mishandled our books several weeks ago.”
An odd chill slid down Laurence’s back. How could a mere shop assistant elicit such a response?
The man’s eyes widened, dissipating his momentarily threatening aspect and Laurence’s chill. “We do not tolerate such conduct here. If you attempt to act so again, I will have you removed.”
Hell and the devil. Will I never live down that error of judgment? “I apologize. Such behavior will not occur again, I assure you.” But the gall of the man, to take him to task. Why, he was probably younger than Laurence, and a tradesman to boot.
The clerk sniffed.
Mistrustful. Well, he had every right to be. “I am considering opening an account.”
The clerk’s face relaxed a fraction, and a wary smile curved his lips. “Well, then, look around. If you need help, I’m here.” A lady set a book on the counter, and he swung his attention to the patron.
Free from the clerk’s suspicious examination, Laurence crossed to the arch at his left. Before him opened the spacious Reading Room. Light poured from a large window at the back as well as from the multiple candles in the crystal chandelier overhead. Readers occupied comfortable chairs scattered around the polished wood floor, the only sounds an occasional cough and the crisp rasp of turning pages. A bouquet of red, yellow and blue flowers filled the hearth, unused at this time of year, and an ornate clock ticked merrily away on the mantel above. A large polished trestle table littered with books and pamphlets occupied the center of the room.
