One common barrier to happiness in romance–although often a spur to the developing interest between the main couple–is another love interest, whether former, would-be, or prospective. In this week’s post, I’m inviting you to share in the comments an excerpt from your work in progress about rivals to the love of one of your protagonists. Mine is from To Claim the Long-Lost Lover, and my heroine is on the hunt for a husband.
After four days at the house party, Sadie was fighting the urge to order her carriage and escape. Lola had not arrived, instead sending a message to say that something had come up concerning the school and she would be there as soon as she could.
Some of the more disreputable house guests had taken Lola’s absence to mean Sadie would be susceptible to their charms, which was more than a little insulting. One had even told Sadie that he was pleased to see her without her twin, since Lola was a bluestocking and a prude, and out to spoil a man’s fun.
As if Sadie, without Lola, would not have the brains to see that Parkswick was all glitter and no substance! In their first year as debutantes, Society had dubbed her the Diamond and Lola the Saint. They seemed to think Sadie’s fashionable colouring and figure were the sum total of her being, and being beautiful must necessarily mean being stupid. Lola’s preference for a quieter social life and her dedication to educational causes meant, in their eyes, she was some kind of a religious fanatic, determined to spoil their fun.
Parkswick’s fun, in this case, fetched him sore toes from Sadie’s riding boot. When the fool chose to take that as clumsiness, she decided that threatening him with her cousin would provoke less gossip, if a lower degree of personal satisfaction, than a sound punch to his mating equipment. Drew’s marksmanship had become legendary in his first months in England, when he had shot the buttons off an opponent’s jacket in a duel, then repeated the feat at Manton’s with a succession of volunteers.
She hadn’t, in fact, told her cousin. Drew presented as an affable easy-going young man, slow to take offence and always ready with a joke to diffuse a tense situation. But scratch that surface, and the warrior lurked beneath. As her escort, Drew would take any threat to her seriously, and she wasn’t convinced that Parkswick deserved to be thrashed or worse.
Besides, on their way to the house party, she had asked him to give her space to get to know the three men she had been considering from her husband short list, and she hated to have to admit that was a mistake. Still, if the rakes and scoundrels couldn’t take a hint from her ever colder demeanour, she might have to ask Drew to have a quiet word.
Sadie sighed. Her husband list was shrinking, too. Out of three candidates at this party, two had disqualified themselves already. Drew had found out that Lord Hurley was an inveterate gambler and needed a wealthy wife to fund his habit. Sadie had no objection to a man marrying her for her dowry, but not if he was likely to wager it away and leave her and Eliza penniless.
Lord Colyford had seemed promising. He wanted a wife to mother his little girls and provide a son or two. Since Sadie wanted a father for her daughter and more children, it would be an even bargain. He was pleasant to talk to, treated her as if her opinions had value, and showed no signs of descending into sentiment. This was to be a practical marriage, with respect and affection, surely, but Sarah had done with love. The twinge when she thought of Nate was a scarred-over wound, mostly sound but subject to the occasional phantom pain. So she had been telling herself, trying not to build anything on the visit her sister had told her about, or his expressed desire to explain himself.
Perhaps next week I’ll share the excerpt in which Lord Colyford shows himself in his true colours.