Fans of Eloisa James & Julia Quinn

message 1: by Susan (new)

Apr 25, 2022 05:50AM

A caged bird when set free will soar and flap and be joyful. So, Heroine escaped her cage and found something she never knew she wanted nor expected and yet the whole event was so wonderful, until:

She, Heroine, was participating in a romantic ballroom moment such as Jane Austen herself might have composed---albeit without a dreadful aunt in pursuit. Nor a hero who was utterly devilish, with and earring and a hefty sword, not to mention a pair of boots that on their own would be censored from any decent novel. And alas, she doubted the heroine would be quite as worldly as she herself had become this past week.
In fact, she rather suspected she would be the villain in a Jane Austen novel.
But Heroine was surprised to find she did not care. Rising on her toes, she kissed that devilish pirate, and thrilled at the smile she startled onto his mouth. It was an imperfect moment, but she would remember it for the rest of her life.
And then the music surged, and they moved apart with the rest of the dancers. Hero held up Heroines hand, and laughing, she spun beneath it. If she was being wrong, at the least it was enjoyable.
CRASH!
Chairs scattered as the hall door smashed open under an assault of Latin poetry. The music faltered and the dancers staffed to a confused halt. Heroine look up to see Miss P inject herself into the crow. The woman was not running; she did not even appear to be flushed or breathless with the effort of the chase.
“It’s time to come home, Heroine,” she called out in a pitiless monotone. And then she began chanting.
“Abi. Abi.”
Bodies flung away from her. Hats spun across the room.
Heroine stared in horror. “Come on, "Hero said, grasping her hard and pulling her. They ran for the nearest door. Unfortunately, “nearest” was a relative term, involving a crush of dancers, waiters with trays of lemonade glasses, a row of chairs, and a pirate.
N.L leaped seemly out of nowhere onto one of the chairs, sword drawn. The crowd screamed and attempted to scatter, but as bustles tangled with lace trimmings and gloves snagged in ornate brooches, they quickly became something resembling an exploded wedding cake. Hero and Heroine stood trapped amongst them, frown up at N.
“Don’t made me fight you, old chap, “Hero warned.
N. rolled his eyes. “You know the last time we fought I beat you so thoroughly you were limping for a week.”
“You mean the time you beat me at backgammon. I was limping because you danced around in celebration and knocked me off my chair, twisting my ankle.”
“Nonsense.” N. paused, glancing at the crowd quaking in fear as they watched him. “Never mind. Pirate, you have to stop. This isn’t as simple as an enchanted amulet that, in the wrong hands, could destroy the world. By running off with Heroine, you’ve annoyed a lot of old ladies. Bot groups are tracking you across England, determined to prevent you from spoiling their feud.”
Hero shrugged.
“Good grief, man, how can you shrug? We’re talking about the W. Society!”
The crowd gasped.
Hero looked around at them, hands spread so they could see the several weapons strapped to his hard, muscular form. “Do I look like the wort of person to be scared of lady pirates in ridiculous hats?”
“You should be,” a waiter said. The crowd murmured agreement.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Heroine said testily. “Hero and I remain perfect enemies.” To which Hero replied by looking wordlessly at their joined hands.
It’s so I can weaponize her, if necessary, “Hero explained.
“Exactly,” Heroine agreed. Glancing anxiously over her shoulder, she gasped as she watched Miss P. elbowing her way deeper through the crowd. Any moment now, she would be upon them Hero might not like to fight his friend, but Heroine liked even less the idea of returning meekly home before she’d had her fill of happiness (and, er, recovered the amulet). She reached for the besom in her coat pocket.
Too late.
“I’m sorry to do this, “N. muttered, and lifted his sword.

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message 2: by Leigh-Ayn (new)

Apr 26, 2022 01:40AM