Tuesday Tales - 2nd July

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Thank you for stopping by. This week's word prompt is sun, my snippet continues on from last week's offering in Consuela's story, my sequel to Vidal's Honor.

Memories of the horrific scene they’d come across in the woods still haunted her dreams.  The women and children, their sightless eyes staring up at the brilliant sun-lit sky… Piled in a heap like broken dolls.  “Do not ask me to share it with you, my lady, for it is not…” The understanding in her hostess’s eyes slammed into her like a musket from one of the guerrilleros guns.

“You know?”

The duchess nodded, leaned across to the nearest bell-pull and summoned a servant.  “Tea, and cake,” she ordered when the butler entered after a brief knock.  “I heard Charles telling his father one day and had the whole story from him.  I am so sorry, my dear.  No one should see such depravation, let alone become victims of it.”

Consuela still could not remember how the duchess had persuaded her to reveal the circumstances of her own widowhood, and now as the other woman patted her hand Consuela swallowed the comment she intended to make when the door opened and a maid entered and crossed the room to place a laden tray on the table beside the duchess.

She looked at the ring on her finger. Not the one her husband had given her, that she’d thrown away as soon as Juan proposed and slipped the large sapphire ring in its place.  No amount of urging on her part would persuade Juan to make her his wife before he left.  Sometimes she hated him for that reluctance, even though she understood his concerns.

“If my brother finds out we are married he will make it his mission of eliminate you as he did my wife and daughter. No, my dear, you are safer if you remain single.  In all honesty I should have resisted the urge to declare myself, and as for this ring…” He’d paced round the room before coming to sit beside her, in this very room days after they’d celebrated the New Year.  “Perhaps it would be best if you did not wear it in public.”

 

Thank you for reading this week's offering, and please hop on over to read everyone's offering for this week's Tuesday's Tales prompt. 

Six Sentence Sunday

I'm taking Six Sentences from my current Regency novel, Vidal's Honor, this week.  I hope you enjoy.

 

Vidal took her hand in both of his. “He didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. If he’d spoken the truth he’d acted to save his own family, the same way Devlin would have protected her, and Vidal was doing so now. That didn’t mean she could forgive his duplicity, but in the hard cut and thrust of war, with betrayal and counter-betrayal rife perhaps he felt he had no option.

There are hundreds more six Sentence offerings for you at Six Sentence Sunday

Sweet Saturday Sample 25-08-12

Another week has flashed by andhere we are again offering more Sweet Saturday Samples for you.
Here is another sample from my wip for your this week. My heroine and hero are being questioned by a particularly suspicious gendarme.

Still held in a tight embrace, Honor listened in astonishment as Vidal castigated the intruders in fluent French for their untimely interruption.

“We beg a thousand pardons,” the leader offered, “but we are searching for a traitor and were told he was here.”

“Well unless he is hiding in a cupboard, “Vidal let his glance roam round the intricately carved wooden panelled walls of the room, “he is not here.”

“When did you arrive?”

Honor hid a smile in Vidal’s chest when she heard the doubt in the interrogator’s voice.

“My bride and I arrived,” he made a display of digging out his watch, “about two hours ago.”

One of the men standing behind the speaker and just beyond the door leaned forward and whispered something.

The speaker’s eyes sharpened and he stepped forward.  “What if I told you, you were seen in Bordeaux this afternoon?”

“I suppose it is possible.” Vidal put his arm round her shoulder and pulled her even closer to him.  Something inside her trembled and knew the heat spiralling within her had reached her face.  Embarrassment added fuel to her sudden longing and guilt added to discomfort.  How could Vidal’s kisses create such a storm of wanting within her?  And at critical moment when they were in danger of being exposed as English travelling through an enemy country?

“My dear,” Vidal’s finger beneath her chin brought her head up until her eyes met his.  A look, strong, demanding and yet full of an understanding the added to her confusion unsettled her further. “The chief of gendarme is asking you if you have seen the man they are looking for?”

“Man?” She dimpled at the official, who she suspected was more likely a soldier than a gendarme. “I have eyes only for my husband.”

“Perhaps I can jog your memory?”

Her heart pounded to the rhythm of her fear, what had she missed while daydreaming about her reaction to Vidal’s kisses?

“I think he means the man who stopped us in Bordeaux and asked for directions.”

“Oh, I see.” She let herself give in to her longing to touch Vidal’s face, and trailed her finger down his cheek, and hid a smile when his eyes darkened with desire.  “He was not as tall as my husband, more slender I think, and his hair was darker. Was it darker?” she asked Vidal. Then before he could answer addressed the man now standing directly in front of her.  “I cannot say for sure, for he was just someone asking the way.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“What could I tell him?” She waited for his challenge and when it didn’t come looked up at Vidal. “You gave him directions, did you not?” She let the memory of his kiss heat up her face again. “I’m afraid I only had eyes for my husband.” She reached up and kissed him on the lips.