An idea popped into my head the other day, and I snatched at the chance to write it. I’ve no plot so far beyond the very basics. Since plotting/planning does not always work for me, I’m going to pants it as far as I can before doing any actual planning. Let’s call this the discovery stage as the characters are still revealing themselves to me.
I did not intend for this to happen, but I have found myself with characters whose names start with S. Who does that? LOL. Me.
First, let me introduce Sarah Grace Patterson. She is 23, and has never been married. She has never even left London. As far as she is concerned, she is firmly on the shelf. But, with her younger cousin having a Come Out this year, she has agreed to act as chaperone.
Now, let me introduce Stratford Clarion, ninth Duke of Westerfell. Now this fine gentleman here was born to a bookshop owner and the daughter of a duke. He joined the military at 18, and he is now 33. Unfortunately for him, his wastrel cousin died in a duel with no offspring, and he had to leave the military. Before leaving, he was elevated as far as Major. He has scars from his time in the army, both visible and not.
Yeah. That’s what I’m saying. I went old school for that one, and I think it really works.
So, it is Tuesday. Here’s my Tidbit. Do enjoy. Is there something you do not like? Let me know.
Near the entrance to the ballroom, Stratford leaned heavily on an ebony cane, careful to keep the pain from his face. Felton said it was not quite the done thing, and who knew better than the third son of the Duke of Whittenslay? He tuned out the inane chatter of Greymoore and the others – this polite nonsense grated. Had they nothing of substance to offer?
His gaze took in the joviality of the guests and their finery. These were not his people, and well he knew it. He spotted several men in uniform, but not a single familiar face. No, these were the officers whose money ensured their safety. Or, they were men hired to wear the uniform, to gain cachet for the hostess. The majority of his men had not returned from Portugal, after all.
That was the old, however, and this, he realized with a shudder, was the new.