I’m traveling in the cold, wet northern climes. Really, there is a reason I live in the Virgin Islands. Anyway, today I invite you to post any excerpt of up to 500 words. Please keep it PG.
Here is mine from my unedited, unfinished WIP, currently named Lady Mary.
Ten minutes later, they turned off the road and onto a well maintained drive. The windows of the old sandstone building sparkled in the sun. Roses in pink and red climbed in an orderly fashion up the building. The high stone wall at the entrance was in good condition as well. Even he had to admit the adventuress had maintained the property well, but if she thought to continue passing herself off as his wife, that was another matter entirely.
The front door opened as he came to a stop. Even the knocker gleamed. He tried not to clench his jaw as the vicar came up beside him, and they climbed the shallow stairs.
A servant, he assumed was the butler bowed. “Good afternoon, Mr. Doust, the ladies are in the morning room. May I ask the name of your friend?”
Doust slid a look at Kit. This got worse and worse all the time. Kit was beginning to feel like he was the wrongdoer. “I am Mr. Featherton. You must be Simmons.”
The merest flicker of distaste passed over the butler’s face. “Indeed, sir. I shall escort you to the ladies straight away.”
As they walked down a long corridor, Kit remembered that the house was built in a U. The carpets were clean and the woodwork gleamed. The walls appeared recently painted as well.
Simmons opened a door, and bowed as Kit and Doust entered the room.
“Lady Eunice and Lady Mary,” the vicar said, “how are you doing today?”
The older lady rose. “We are quite well, Mr. Doust.” A line appeared between her brows when she noticed Kit, then disappeared, and she smiled. “Mr. Featherton, how good of you to bring our dear friend.”
A younger woman standing in front of the French windows stared at him with the same gray eyes that haunted his dreams. Her golden blond hair was dressed in a simple knot, loose curls framed her oval face, and her countenance had changed from a friendly smile to a mask of fear. What in all that was holy was Lady Mary Tolliver doing pretending to be his wife?
Not wanting to upset her any more than she already was, he snoodled forward. Taking her hands, he raised one then the other to his lips. “Aren’t you happy to see your husband, my dear?”