Broken families on WIP Wednesday

I’m beginning to get my first comments back on the beta draft of To Mend the Broken Hearted, so I thought I’d give you a piece. Val’s sister-in-law and Ruth’s cousin have stolen his little girl as revenge, and Ruth was captured when she went after them. Ruth’s family and Val’s comrades from the army have banded together to get Ruth and Genny back.

This story is about family. Val’s family is broken, but with Ruth’s help, he’ll rebuild what he can. Her family is split in two, with half left behind in the East. Another kind of break. Still, love binds them together.

Do you write about families? Born, made, or cobbled together? Share an excerpt in the comments.

Every strategy had risks, as the duke said when he summed up the discussion that followed. “We don’t have any idea where in the house our ladies are being kept. If we break in, they may be hurt before we can get to them. If we wait until morning, or whenever Wharton chooses to emerge, our ladies may be suffering right now, and we’ll be standing by while it happens.”

Val had been examining the house from where they stood in the cover of the stables. “What if we could get in from the top? Find an empty room in the attics and enter that way? If we could get even a couple of people inside, and they could find our ladies…?”

“It would be a tough climb,” Rutledge mused, his eyes narrowing as he considered the idea.

“I could do it,” Drew offered. “It’s our best chance, Kaka. If we can find our ladies and take out their guard, we can defend them while the rest of you make a full on assault.”

The duke gave a sharp nod, and Drew fell into a quiet conversation with one of his warriors, while the pair of them removed their gloves, their jackets, their boots and their stockings. “Kaka, we’ll ascend between the porch pillars and the side of the house, then walk that bit of pediment, climb up where that wing meets the main house, and make our way to the roof. We should be able to drop down to that bit of roof by the gable there,” he pointed to each feature as he named it. “The window is slightly open, so there may be someone inside. We’ll make a decision on whether to enter or keep looking once we’ve got up there. Once we’re inside, watch for us to signal that we’ve found the ladies.”

The duke nodded again. “And then we’ll attack. We will be ready, my son.”

Val watched in agonised envy as Drew and his companion ascended the house face, taking it in turns to lead, the lower one often offering a foothold for the other, who then would pause to reach back for his partner. I should be doing that. But even when he had both hands, he couldn’t climb the way those two did.

“They are quite mad,” Jamie murmured in his ear. “Back at home, they used to climb rockfaces for fun. Still do. The pair of them are making a list of all the mountains in Wales and Scotland with climbs they consider worth doing.”

Around them, the men dispersed, one group to each face of the house, to choose windows to break through when the signal came. Val stayed, watching the climbers approach the attic window.

They were almost there when the window opened wide, and someone leaned out of it. Val stepped out of the shadow, staring. “Ruth!” It was. She and Drew were embracing through the open window, and then she stepped back out of sight and returned to help Genny climb out of the window into Drew’s waiting arms.

He settled the child on his back, clinging like a monkey, and Ruth followed her out the window. “What is she doing?” Jamie asked. “Ah! I see.” Ruth had taken off her pelisse and her shoes and stockings. She looped her skirt up between her legs and bound it in place by tying her pelisse around her waist by the sleeves. She used her sash to tie Genny to Drew’s back.

Val waited, his heart in his mouth, and Drew led the way down, Ruth following, and his friend bringing up the rear, helping Ruth whenever she had trouble making progress. Never had five minutes moved so slowly, but at last Drew set one foot and then another onto the ground, and Val was there to untie his little girl and take her in his arms.

 

Parents on WIP Wednesday

 

We all have parents and many of us have offspring. Both ways, the relationship is hugely formative, and in stories, scenes between a parent and offspring, or memories of such scenes, can be important for both plot and character. This week, I’m inviting excerpts about relationships between parents and children. Good or bad. Mother or father. Children grown up or still young. With our protagonist as parent or as offspring.

Mine is from Unkept Promises, and shows how Jules feels about his children by his mistress.

“I would rather do laundry than wash dishes,” Marshanda argued.

“Washing dirty pots is the worst,” Adiratna agreed, and Perdana nodded. “I hate washing dirty pots.”

The children fell into a discussion about the baked on grime that was hardest to remove, and Jules pulled Mia to one side, his face thunderous. “When have my daughters cleaned dirty pots?”

“While you were away,” Mia explained. “Maureen O’Riley sent them to the kitchen when she took over Kirana’s place.” She bit at her lower lip, frowning. Now to tell him her fears. But he spoke before she could, his voice cold enough to freeze.

“Took over Kirana’s place? Explain yourself, Mrs Redepenning.”

“Has no one told you? After you left, Maureen announced she was your new mistress, and was taking over the mistress’s room. She had the servants move Kirana to the little storeroom by the kitchen.”

“That hole?” Jules took a deep breath and two or three swift paces, back and forth, colour ebbing and flowing in face.

“Quite,” Mia agreed, reassured by the strength of his reaction. Clearly, Maureen had not had his authority for the move.

“No wonder she— Kirana told me you’d moved her from a hot stuffy room, and I thought she meant the one you are in now.”  He took another two swift paces, his struggle to remain outwardly calm clear on his face.

“Papa?” Marshanda left her conversation to run to Mia, putting an arm around her waist and peeping at Jules from that place of safety. “Why is Papa angry, Ibu Mia?”

“Your father is angry you were made to work in the kitchen, and your mother was made to sleep in the storeroom,” Mia said.

Jules had himself under control, and his voice dripped ice, though sparks of fire lit his blue eyes. “My servants will explain to me how they allowed this to happen — how they helped this to happen.”

Marshanda plastered herself closer to Mia, and Adiratna explained. “Dench said you had told him this was what you wanted. I told Marsha he was lying. I don’t like Dench.”

“You were right, Ada,” Jules told her. “He was lying. And I don’t like him, either.”

“Dench hits people if they say he is lying,” Marshanda warned. “He hit Japheth when Japheth didn’t believe you had given the orders. And he hit Ada when she bit him.”

Jules dropped to his knees and took his youngest daughter’s face between his hands. “He hit you, sweetheart?”

“Papa will hit him,” Perdana promised. “Papa will hit him right through to next Tuesday, won’t you Papa?”

“I will certainly make certain he never lies to my little girls or hits them again,” Jules vowed, not taking his attention off Adiratna. “Biting him was a very dangerous thing to do, my darling.”

Adiratna stuck out her lip and glowered. “I am not sorry,” she insisted. “He was dragging Mami by her arm. It hurt her. I made him stop.”

“She was very brave, Papa,” Marshanda insisted, her whole body trembling as she stood up for her sister. “Mami tried to walk, but she fell down, and he said a bad word and began to drag her, but when Ada bit him and ran away, he ran after her and Japheth and I had time to help Mami to her new room.”

“You were both very brave, then,” Jules said. “I am proud of you. And Ibu Mia is proud of you, too.”