The Child
“Her name is Julie.” Alec whispers to his dumbfounded companion.
“Julie. . .” a nod of acceptance as the name is weighed against his tongue and found acceptable.
“Julie Catherine.” Alec whispered more to himself than to the man next to him. The young vixen, Carston, Alec’s friend, was watching so earnestly, leaned forward and lifts a small child out of Alec’s view and into Carston’s. Carston sucked in a shallow breath, prepared to voice his new question as he watches his friend’s gaze linger on the baby.
“Which one,” he asked slowly, the sound no greater than a whisper. “The child or the mother?” Alec smiled serenely and tilted his head ever so slowly to the side.
“The little one, of course. Her mother’s pride and joy. She’s got her daddy’s eyes.” He stated as he knocked quietly and entered the small dimly lit room.
The petite mother turned and smiled slowly at the two men. One she recognizes instantly, even though it’s been nearly a year. He smiles knowingly, the lines of fatigue etched in his eyes and mouth. The other smiles more like a wolf in a sheep pen, and the woman is intrigued by his obvious interest.
“Allie, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Everwood.” Alec steered her toward his friend, using only a touch on the small of her back, barely noticed beneath the heavy gown of cornflower blue cambric. A slight frown touches the young girl’s face as she extends her hand serenely on Carston Everwood’s graceful form.
“Mr. Amberly, I’ve asked you not to refer to me with such a childish name. My name is Alathea Castairs, not Allie. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Everwood.” Alathea curtsied lightly before fixing slanted eyes on Alec.
“Actually my dear, it’s not Mr. Everwood, as Mr. Amberly is mistaken again, it’s Mr. Penworth, Duke of Everwood.” The older gentleman captured Alathea’s hand and began to lead her to the stairs.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace. Mr. Amberly is quite forgetful of such English matters since his period living in France.” She sent a glare at Alec as he followed closely behind them. Alec Amberly just shrugged it off; by right, he should have been referred to as ‘Your Grace’ as well, but never particularly cared for the title. If only Carston knew of his French dukedom. . .no matter, he was quite safe to pursue whomever he pleased with out the matchmaking mamas of the ton breathing down his neck and trying to marry him off to their giggling, simpering daughters.
Once again, I have very little idea of where to go with this. I know it's set up like a Regency romance, but I'm always open to ideas. Kat
“Julie. . .” a nod of acceptance as the name is weighed against his tongue and found acceptable.
“Julie Catherine.” Alec whispered more to himself than to the man next to him. The young vixen, Carston, Alec’s friend, was watching so earnestly, leaned forward and lifts a small child out of Alec’s view and into Carston’s. Carston sucked in a shallow breath, prepared to voice his new question as he watches his friend’s gaze linger on the baby.
“Which one,” he asked slowly, the sound no greater than a whisper. “The child or the mother?” Alec smiled serenely and tilted his head ever so slowly to the side.
“The little one, of course. Her mother’s pride and joy. She’s got her daddy’s eyes.” He stated as he knocked quietly and entered the small dimly lit room.
The petite mother turned and smiled slowly at the two men. One she recognizes instantly, even though it’s been nearly a year. He smiles knowingly, the lines of fatigue etched in his eyes and mouth. The other smiles more like a wolf in a sheep pen, and the woman is intrigued by his obvious interest.
“Allie, I’d like to introduce you to Mr. Everwood.” Alec steered her toward his friend, using only a touch on the small of her back, barely noticed beneath the heavy gown of cornflower blue cambric. A slight frown touches the young girl’s face as she extends her hand serenely on Carston Everwood’s graceful form.
“Mr. Amberly, I’ve asked you not to refer to me with such a childish name. My name is Alathea Castairs, not Allie. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Everwood.” Alathea curtsied lightly before fixing slanted eyes on Alec.
“Actually my dear, it’s not Mr. Everwood, as Mr. Amberly is mistaken again, it’s Mr. Penworth, Duke of Everwood.” The older gentleman captured Alathea’s hand and began to lead her to the stairs.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Your Grace. Mr. Amberly is quite forgetful of such English matters since his period living in France.” She sent a glare at Alec as he followed closely behind them. Alec Amberly just shrugged it off; by right, he should have been referred to as ‘Your Grace’ as well, but never particularly cared for the title. If only Carston knew of his French dukedom. . .no matter, he was quite safe to pursue whomever he pleased with out the matchmaking mamas of the ton breathing down his neck and trying to marry him off to their giggling, simpering daughters.
Once again, I have very little idea of where to go with this. I know it's set up like a Regency romance, but I'm always open to ideas. Kat
posted by weyrdkat | 11:02 PM
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