This is one of my favorite books, partly because it has three separate romances, all connected by one of my fave characters, the Dowager Lady Thornham. She first appeared in Lord Rakehell's Love (which I featured last week), and in that book she was upbraiding the wrong scoundrel for his scandalous behavior. She enjoys reading all of their exploits in the newspapers, but now she fears all the scoundrels have settled down. She has to come up with a new pastime, and she chooses matchmaking. The victims? Her three nephews.
The first scene that came to my mind is when the first couple, Miles and Gemma, meet. I had so much fun writing it, but worried it might be a little too out there. I described it to a writing friend as "the hero is essentially talking to the heroine's butt. . ." She wanted to read more, so I took that as a good sign.
I'm posting the scene, and you can let me know if you like it.
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Miles walked past the manicured gardens, grinning at the Dowager's belief that her carefree nephews would be able to find love at her house party. It was easy enough to let her have her way for two weeks' time, especially if it meant she would not retract the allowance she loved to dangle in front of them.
He would survive without it, of course. But it would certainly assist in financing his next excursion…
"Oh you blasted thing!"
Miles halted. That was not the language he expected to hear coming from the numerous rows of yellow rose bushes. Nor did he usually hear such heated words in a soft, melodious voice.
His gaze was instantly caught by a froth of white muslin, near the ground, wedged between two closely-planted rose bushes. He moved closer and saw the sheer fabric was draped over a woman's shapely bottom. It was the only thing visible, since it appeared she had been captured headfirst by the ferocious plants.
He grinned. "Allow me to assist, madam."
"Could you? I would be so grateful." She began to wriggle, which was not what he had anticipated, but he could not deny it was a delightful sight. "Drat! I should never have come through here."
Before he could question why she had chosen such a route, he heard a distressed mewling sound.
"There now," he rushed to reassure her, "no need to succumb to tears. We shall have you out of there in no time at all."
An enchanting round of giggles followed his words. "That was not me. That was Snowball, the reason I am caught in this predicament. Such a naughty kitten."
The young miss attempted once more to back away, but there was a distinct sound of tearing. He did not have to imagine the calamity that would ensue if they were caught together, her clothes in shreds.
"Madam, please." He approached her quickly. The thorns had managed to catch her from both sides, which made it impossible for her to retreat. "If you will permit me to remove the thorns from your ensemble, we can get you upright once more." He knelt to one side of her and began working on a large thorn embedded in the delicate muslin. "What possessed Snowball to choose this particular hiding place?"
"I have no idea. We were simply out for a walk—"
He could not contain his laughter. "I had no idea kittens enjoyed going for a stroll."
"This one is a bit unusual." Her laugh was as delightful as her voice. "Not to mention completely wicked. I can see the wretch reclining right in front of me, but can't quite reach…"
There was another determined wiggle, as she obviously tried to grab the instigator of this situation.
"I fear you will rend your dress if you continue—" Miles could not help but imagine such a sight, but it was so craven, he pushed it aside immediately. "Hold still while I disentangle you, and then I shall see about luring Snowball from her lair. Or his lair."
She giggled. "Her lair."
"Snowball is rather clever, for it appears she has lured you into the precise spot with the biggest thorns." He carefully extracted the barbs from the fabric on the left side, and then moved to the other side. "This one appears to be a bit more difficult."
"Why is that?"
"I cannot see where it has caught you. No, do not move about or you shall catch yourself on the one I have just removed."
"Can you attempt to reach it?"
"It would require some—" He swallowed with a bit of difficulty. "Uh, exploration."
"Oh."
"Yes. Precisely."
"I could try to reach my hand back—Ow!" There were some unladylike curses amongst the muttered words, along with several threats of what Snowball was likely to suffer in the very near future. "I had never realized quite how many thorns one rose bush contained. Well, we must do something. I cannot miss the parade of marriage-minded debutantes intent on snaring one of the Dowager's nephews. With two dozen young women in attendance, the hunting is bound to be quite fierce."
Miles found himself enchanted with her voice, filled with amusement rather than distress. He had never enjoyed a tête-à-tête more than this one, and he had yet to see her face-to-face.
"You are making me feel a great deal of sympathy for the poor nephews. And you are not participating in this endeavor?" He found that regrettable, since he was already anticipating more encounters with her.
"After a fashion. I have been charged with ensuring the young misses have plenty of opportunities to engage with the potential bridegrooms."
"A matchmaker then. Why were you selected for this important role?"
"I have wondered that myself." She chuckled again. "Perhaps because I have a little experience at keeping people entertained. Still, I realized a long time ago it was pointless to ask the Dowager for her reasons, as she does not always know herself."
"Hmm." Miles finally removed one last determined thorn, and her dress was free. "You should be able to back away now. Though I would do so slowly," he instructed. "I shall hold back this branch that seems particularly intent on snagging you once more if given the chance."
"Thank you," she said, slowly moving towards him. In the next instant, she had cleared the rose bushes, and was doing her best to stand up, which was difficult with an unhappy cat in her arms.
"Allow me." He lightly touched her arm to assist. Once she was upright, she straightened her bonnet, moved the cat more tightly into her arms, and then turned to look at her rescuer.
A slow smile appeared on her face, and Miles could only describe his resulting emotion as thunderstruck.
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I hope you enjoyed this first scene! If you want to read more, you can find Where Have All The Scoundrels Gone? at these locations:
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On Tuesday, January 29th, I'll be re-releasing Book2 of The Matchmaking Earl series, titled Truly, My Love. Maybe it'll be next week's First on the Scene entry.
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