It’s time to strut your stuff!! Let’s do secondary characters.
I’m about two weeks out from my next release, so mine is from Miss Featherton’s Christmas Prince.
After spending over four hours at her mother’s modiste, Amanda rushed through the door of her home, still trying to decide how she going to convince Meg to end her pursuit of Viscount Throughgood. Meg was beautiful and vivacious and everything Amanda was not. If Meg set her cap at his lordship, she would surely catch him. It was not that Amanda did not wish her friend happiness; she wanted nothing more. Yet despite what her friend had said about giving up on love, she still believed Meg would find the right gentleman for her, and Amanda did not believe it would be Lord Throughgood. He had been so kind to her last evening, even going so far as to request a dance at the next entertainment, and he had made an appointment to take her riding in the Park to-day. For which she must change immediately if she was not to be late. She smiled as she remembered how easily they had conversed, as if they had known each other forever and not merely a few hours.
As she entered the hall and almost ran into the round hall table. A large bouquet of hot-house roses stood in a vase in the center. “Where did these come from?”
“They are for you, miss.” The butler directed her attention to the smallish piece of white paper. “The card is next to them.”
Amanda donned her glasses and read the words, hardly able to believe them.
<LET>My dear Miss Hiller,
Please accept this small token of my regard. I saw them this morning and their loveliness reminded me of you.
Yr servant,
C, Viscount Throughgood
From the moment she first saw him, he had struck her as the most handsome gentleman at the ball. His lovely brown hair curled softly. His blue eyes, with just a hint of gray, had smiled at her. He was not very tall, but more than tall enough for her. The fact that he was a little plump appealed as well. After all, she was no sylph. When they had danced together there had been no awkwardness at all. They just seemed to fit together.
She clutched the note to her bosom and buried her nose in the blooms. She could happily remain there for a life-time. There must be some way to preserve the roses. “Oh my,” she mumbled into the flowers. “No one has ever called me lovely!”
“I’m quite sure that is not true,” her mother said prosaically. “Just the other day your father said you were a beautiful girl and one day some gentleman would recognize it.” Amanda lifted her head. Mama had stopped and glanced at the flowers as if seeing them for the first time. “Who are those from?”
“Lord Throughgood.” Amanda reverently breathed the words. She felt as if she had died and gone to heaven. No one had ever sent her flowers before. “I hope you do not mind that I already opened the card. It is perfectly unexceptionable.”
“Well.” Her mother was still staring at the bouquet as if it might disappear at any moment. “What a nice young man. We must invite him to dinner.”
Still clutching the card, she threw her arms around her mother. “Oh, could we?”
Mama patted Amanda’s back. “Now, do not be such a goose. Naturally, I shall send him an invitation.”
Mama held out her hand, and Amanda dutifully gave the missive to her mother. After a few moments, Mama said, “Very unexceptionable. I shall look forward to meeting his lordship. Now you must change, or have you forgot he is taking you for a ride today?”
The moment she had read the missive, she had forgot. “No, I’m on my way to my room now.” Amanda practically floated to her chamber, then fell on her bed. “Oh, Jubie, I think I am falling in love.”
Her maid had received the flowers from a footman who had brought them up, and placed them on Amanda’s dressing table. “There, you see. There was nothing to worry about. How many times have I told you that the right gentleman would come along? Stand up and let me get you out of your gown.”
Amanda stood, allowing her maid to take charge. She was the happiest lady in the world, except for one small problem. What was she going to say to Meg? She had just recovered from Lord Swindon when Lord Tarlington broke her heart. If Amanda was truly the good friend she thought she was, she would step aside for Meg to have Lord Throughgood. Then again, gentlemen regularly fell in love with Meg. This might be Amanda’s only chance at love and happiness. She re-read the note and sighed.
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Ella Quinn ~ Author 
Enjoyed your excerpt, Ella – certainly makes me want to read the book now!
Annabelle is the younger, secondary character from Midwinter Masquerade (by Romy Gemmell) set in 1816.
Annabelle dressed warmly before setting out to her friend’s house. Since a noticeable frost covered the ground, she endeavoured to place her feet more carefully to avoid unexpected slippery areas. She hummed to herself as she walked, light-hearted at thought of some time with Beatrice and Frederick. If their handsome cousin happened to be there, that would please her even more.
Distracted by the delicious memory of being in those strong arms, Annabelle failed to see a small patch of frozen water. As her left booted foot stepped on the ice, she lost her balance. Arms flailing about as she tried to remain upright, Annabelle’s feet took on a life of their own and began sliding in different directions. Next minute, she was sitting firmly and painfully on the ground, legs spread in front of her.
“I shouldn’t stay on the ground too long, Miss Montgomery, else you will freeze your lower regions.”
At sound of the amused drawl, Annabelle scrabbled to stand up without sliding further, dreading to think what a sight she must be. Oh, the embarrassment that he of all people should find her like this. And he had the temerity to mention her lower regions, although she could already feel the cold dampness seeping through her pelisse.
“Come, take my hand until you are steady,” Mr. Ellingham said, with no hint of a laugh. Annabelle placed her small mitten-clad hand in his large gloved one and was soon righted. She immediately withdrew her hand, rearranged her bonnet, and smoothed down her dress and coat before she dared to look at him.
“Thank you, Mr. Ellingham. How fortunate I am that you seem always to be where you are most needed.” She meant the words lightly and was surprised to see a shadow cross his face before he continued smiling in that amused manner once more.
“Perhaps I’ve come especially to watch over you, Miss Montgomery, for you seem to have a propensity for doing yourself some mischief.”
Annabelle’s face warmed as she looked into his deep blue eyes, wishing Freddy had come upon her this particular time. She had no desire to appear so undignified before this sophisticated man. He must think her no more than a silly country girl.
“Sir, I assure you I do not usually fall about the countryside waiting for some dashing rescuer.”
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Midwinter/dp/B00G4DNG7G
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Thanks, Ella. What a sweet excerpt!! Here’s a short one from To Kiss a Rake, with two secondary characters. Colin is Miles’s trustworthy rake of a cousin, whose own book, The Rake’s Irish Lady, will be out soon. Mr. Toup is a very unpleasant sort of secondary character, but that doesn’t mean he’s not fun to write. 😉
Miles drew her into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder. She had swooned. He tried to pull the hood over her hair, but it didn’t cover enough.
“Somebody had too much to drink?” Miles’s cousin and heir, Colin Warren, appeared from behind the coach. That was all right; he could trust Colin.
“Help me, will you? Cover the girl with this blanket.”
Colin goggled. “But that’s—”
“The lovely, innocent Melinda Starling.” A tall, thin fellow called Toup, one of Colin’s more dissolute associates, came into view. “And that well-known ravisher of gently-bred maidens, Lord Garrison.”
Bloody hell. If he’d had a free hand to plant Toup a facer… But it didn’t matter what anyone said about Miles Garrison. It had already been said, and said so often, that it blew away like so much chaff in the wind. Melinda’s reputation was what mattered now. Miles gave up hope of escaping this predicament lightly. He resigned himself to the worst.
Toup leered. “She’s not so innocent any more, I’ll wager.”
“If you value your life,” Miles growled, “you’ll watch what you say about my betrothed.”
Toup gaped at him, muttering an apology. He left in a hurry, agog with the news, while Colin followed Miles into the house. “You’re going to marry Melinda Starling?
”
“Yes, damn you.” Before Colin could start asking questions Miles wasn’t quite ready to answer, he said, “Go wake up Mrs. Timms. Tell her I’m putting Miss Starling in the best guest chamber. Tell her she’s had a blow to the head and been unwell…” When Colin still stared at him in astonishment, he said, “Just do it, will you?” and turned for the stairs.
http://www.amazon.com/Kiss-Rake-Scandalous-Kisses-ebook/dp/B00ZAY07OK/
Lovely excerpt. I remember this scene. I do love Amanda!
My excerpt is from Betrothal, now FREE on ARe, B&N, and Smashwords.
“So you finally got your wish, Alyse?” Anne’s caustic voice oozed sarcasm, and betrayed more than a touch of envy. Seated on the bed they shared, she brushed her hair with hard, determined strokes.
“I got my answer, Anne, not my wish.” Her tone as terse, Alyse folded away her rose gown and closed the lid of the chest. Standing in her plain white linen shift, she unpinned her hair.
“You would wish to be married to someone other than Geoffrey Longford?” Anne scowled and stroked harder, but when she spoke again, her tone was more wistful than strident. “Did you look at him, Alyse?” Anne’s father had betrothed her to the Viscount de Mantillas, reported to be an older Spanish nobleman, and she had bemoaned her expectations of her wedding night before now.
Her hair freed, Alyse brushed with vigor, venting her temper with each stroke. “Aye, I’ve looked at him, Anne, and altogether too close! As I said earlier, looks are not the only consideration for a husband. From what I observed, Sir Geoffrey has quite a high opinion of himself and no regard for my feelings.” She paused, remembering his response to her silent plea. “Almost no regard. And did you see how huge he is? Up close, I mean? He could crush me like a flea if I displeased him!”
“So do not displease him! All a woman need do is warm a man’s bed well enough and she will find favor with him. You should have little trouble seeming eager with such a man between your sheets. Do you think he is huge all over?”
“Anne!” Alyse suppressed a shudder at the thought.
“Even if he is not, I would change places with you in a snap of my fingers. Put that away for me.” Anne handed her brush to her roommate then scooted beneath the covers. “You are so besotted with Lord Braeton¸ who never gave you a serious thought, that you cannot see a gift from God when it is set down before you.” She turned her back and commanded brusquely, “Blow out the candle when you are done.”
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Great excerpt, Ella! Here is a short scene from Tempting the Pirate, with secondary character Whip…
Tap. Tap. Tap. “Open on up. It’s Whip.”
Whip? Charity opened her eyes. The sight of the cabin dispatched the last dregs of sleep.
Rap. Rap. Bang. “Come on now. Let me in.”
Yes, of course. She jerked upright, and James’s hand slipped from her chest, the slight graze of his thumb over the rise of her breast inciting sparks of pleasure across her bare skin. James slept on, his breathing steady and relaxed. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. Even in sleep, he took liberties.
She hurried to unlock the door. Wearing the same sour expression he had the night before, the old sailor strode inside the cabin, a shoe and candle in one gnarled hand and a piece of paper in the other. As soon as the door closed, he thrust the paper scrap toward her. “I need you to write somethin’ for me. You can write, can’t ya?”
His demanding tone set her teeth on edge. “Yes.”
He shoved it closer. “Write Cap’n Lamont’s name on this here paper.”
“Captain Lamont?” That’s right. James is the captain of his own ship, not a true pirate, like the rest.
Whip grimaced. “Mr. Lamont, I meant.” He straightened his stooped frame. “Come now. Do as I say, girl. It’s your fault James is lying here.”
“My fault?” Despite his gruffness, she relaxed a little. His eyes were those of a gentle soul. “Ah, yes, a woman aboard ship is bad luck.” She took the slip and walked to the desk.
“You have the right of it, missy. You’ve cursed us all.” She suppressed a smile as Whip crouched next to the
bed, setting down the items he’d brought. Charity dipped a quill into the inkwell, wrote James Lamont, and turned toward Whip.
He took the paper from her and touched the words to the candle flame. “Reaper, stay away. On this good man you will no’ prey…” Whip repeated the chant until the paper had burned to ash, then blew out the candle, leaving only the early morning glow to light the room.
Such superstition. Science and fact could be relied upon. Superstition was always based on fear. “Is he safe now?” she teased.
“Let’s hope so. And you can keep your disbelievin’ thoughts to yerself.” He stepped to the bed and felt around
the surface, picking up the nut he’d left last eve.
“The acorn. What is it for?”
“Laugh all you want, girl. Did lightnin’ strike you inside this cabin?” He dropped the acorn back into the pouch at his waist. “No, it did not. Fact is, if you keep this prize on your person, it brings good fortune all of your days, it does. Good fortune that I now have.” He scooped up the shoe and set it near the door, no doubt to keep Death from entering. “I’ll need it, too, with you aboard ship.”
She took Whip’s place by the bed and checked on James. His bandage had held. No fever, but still not awake. “If it’s any comfort, I hope your magic worked.” The tangle of nerves in her middle tightened into a massive snarl. Wake up, James. Please.
Purchase links can be found on my website here => http://tamarahughes.com/books/
Ella,
Oooh! I love this cover. Waiting for my copy to arrive.
Elaine
Thank you so much!! Only about two more weeks now.
How about something from Lord Shelton?
As the carriage moved down the drive, Lord Shelton noticed the butler and housekeeper were there to greet him, but he could not see his wife. He had received her last letter three days prior and hoped she had not fallen ill while he was travelling back to her. Nearing his home, he became more concerned as he saw the despair on the faces of his servants. He leapt from the carriage the instant the step was lowered and immediately asked for Lady Shelton.
“Sir, the mistress is gravely ill and is being attended by Dr. Wilson in her chambers.” The butler’s voice broke towards the end of the news he dreaded giving. The housekeeper looked away as tears escaped her control. Lord Shelton paled.
“What has occurred in my absence? Has she a malady? Was there an accident?”
“Sir, she suffered a fall.”
“Good God! What happened?” Shelton asked as he quickly passed his hat and gloves to a waiting footman.
“Sir, Lady Shelton returned from her usual ride yesterday morn to find horses waiting at the front door instead of tended to in the stables. She asked the boy as to the circumstances, and he said there was a caller who was not intending to stay long. She went into the house, and Mrs. Scott informed her that the caller was waiting in the green drawing room. Mrs. Scott was arranging for tea when she was called away to a minor fire in the kitchens. She returned to find both the footman and the mistress badly hurt and unconscious.”
The housekeeper let a sob escape as her husband disclosed this last bit of information. Lord Shelton’s face showed alternately fury and anguish as he clenched his fists at his side. He started moving towards the stairs as he attended to the butler’s recitation.
“Sir, the footman regained consciousness this morning. He said that, when he attended to her ladyship’s calls of distress, the drawing room door was locked. He forced the door open and saw the mistress being most indecently attacked. When he ran to assist, her assailant released her, and she fell against the sideboard. He followed the man, but he was assaulted by his accomplice. The footman did not see the attacker’s face but said he was dressed as a gentleman.”
“Who did this? Has the villain been caught?” Shelton cried as he crossed the hall in three long steps.
“No, my Lord,” the butler called after him as he mounted the stairs. “But it is likely it was Lord Malcolm as he was the caller who was left with the mistress. He and his man departed on horseback while all hands were attending to the kitchen fire.”
“Good God, no! Malcolm! That licentious scoundrel! What has he done to my Livvy?”
Lord Shelton turned and leapt up the stairs to his wife’s chambers. The doctor met him outside as he rushed through the door, and taking Shelton aside by the arm, spoke in a quiet voice. “My Lord, I know you fear the worst, but my examination reveals it unlikely that Lady Shelton was violated. Her injuries appear to be from the fall and her struggle to protect herself.”
Shelton released a shuddering breath as the physician continued. “Lady Shelton has suffered a severe concussive injury and has not regained consciousness, and she may have internal bleeding. It is best she be left to rest. I will remain for her care as long as I am able and will leave instructions to my assistant when I must be away.”
Shelton moved past the physician towards his wife. She was lying abed with a severe cut on her head and angry bruises on her neck and arms. His face contorted in agony as he stood helplessly beside her. He reached a shaking hand to tentatively cover hers and whispered words of endearment as he struggled to keep his countenance in front of the servants. He remained that way for some time until he was seen straightening his back and turning to quit the room with a determined look upon his face. He strode resolutely to provide instructions to his man.
“Ready a servant to take an urgent note to Pemberley and remain to collect a reply.”
From Alias Thomas Bennet http://www.amazon.com/Alias-Thomas-Bennet-Suzan-Lauder-ebook/dp/B00H3I31XA/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_opt?ie=UTF8