Pitch

It's Here!

Book Two in The Huntington Saga Series Novels~

Pirate Bride!

Miss Susannah Blakemore is kidnapped and sold into white slavery as payback to the Huntingtons. Will her pirate hero save her?

“The Huntingtons will pay. Oh, they will pay.” Plots and unholy alliances are put into action carrying out long-awaited retribution.

Only … one was not thought of. One was not even considered. How would anyone have guessed that a descendant of a pirate would take up his old family tradition in a mad quest to regain his bitterly lost love? The Marquess of Latham will not abide by this act of violence arranged for his precious love, but will surely save her -- will he not? And will he make her the next pirate bride?

Next? There must be a first to have a 'next'. But there was another ... centuries ago ... that still walks the halls of Stonecrest Castle.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Just Made it to the Editor's Desk on Authonomy.com! Woohoo!

So excited to finally be on the Editor's Desk! 

Hope I can stay there all month long so I can get that FREE review from HarperCollins Publishers! 

Thanks for all the support everyone!

If you'd like to support me there, please go to the bottom of this page and follow the directions.  Let me know if you have any questions.  :)

Hugs,
Ellise :)

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

YouTube Book Trailer for The Governess

I also finally got my Book Trailer up on YouTube.  Yeah!  Would love comments on what you think. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GqH-MjPYLeY#!


Ellise

Re-worked and Re-edited Chapter 5 -- What do you think?

What do you think of my revisions to Chapter 5?  Do you like it better or not?

Chapter 5
Captive
*******

Carly could not sleep.  Having slept for several hours prior to dinner, all she could do now was toss and turn and stare at the ceiling.  Reading before bed had become a habit, formed early in life, and now she was used to doing so prior to sleep.  Carly decided to peruse the library she had noticed earlier and had been invited to use at her leisure.  She couldn’t wait to see what was there; many, many shelves full of undiscovered stories.  Smiling to herself, she sat up.  Carly disliked, very much, the idea of redressing just to find a book.  It was unlikely anyone would be up at this late hour, she surmised, but still she put on her robe and slippers, lit a candle, and quietly made her way down the shadowy hall to the stairs. 
This house would take some getting used to, for it was enormous.  The scale must be why fireplaces were still lit, here and there, to keep the large spaces filled with warmth.  Finally finding the library, she discovered it was an exceptionally great room with shelves upon shelves of books, just as she had imagined.  She smiled, giddily.  This room would be a favorite!  Carly could see generations of devoted readers had lived at Huntington Manor. 
A large fire was still burning in the fireplace in this room, as well, enough to warm the immense room nicely.  How thoughtful of the servants, she smiled.  Such a well-run manor house, she thought.  With such a forbidding master, how could it not be?  She snickered in the darkness.  Carly could smell the many books and something else.  Was it cinnamon?  As she walked quickly over to the fireplace she reached awkwardly to set her candle upon the tall mantelpiece.  Welcoming the instant heat, she warmed herself by the fire glad to have it since her lacy robe had done nothing to warm her on the cool night. 
“You may wish to step away from the fire since I can easily see your lovely figure through your…nightgown.”
Carly’s hand covered her mouth to stifle a scream as she swiftly turned around to face the voice in the dark.
There was no one. Only darkness.  Carly gulped gasping breaths, unable to calm herself.  But, as Carly’s eyes quickly adjusted to the firelight’s glow, she spotted Lord Huntington.  She jolted from his nearness. “Oh!” she startled and nearly shrieked. 
He was sitting in a large chair, only inches away, his dark countenance frightening against the dancing glow from the fire. “I apologize for shocking you.” An unease crept over her as he continued his perusal of her figure. Yet she could not move. Each looked at the other, unsure how to proceed.
After an awkward moment, Lord Huntington said, “Please. Have a seat,” he pointed next to him at the other chair.  (Anything to stop the vision she created.) 
How fortunate for her to be caught up in this situation.  Clumsy girl, she thought to herself.  She must say something instead of playing mute.  “I…I…thought you would be asleep or I would never,” shaking her head caused the loose curls to caress her delicate shoulders, “…I would never have come down in my night…my night, um,” befuddled, she continued, “I am sorry if I have intruded upon your privacy.  I shall leave now.”
Lord Huntington halted her by lifting his hand for her to wait.  Carly felt as if her slippers were glued to the floor.  She could not move. What did he want from her? How could he want anything from her at such a time as this?  She thought he began to say something; and when he did not, she thought she had better quickly depart rather than make more a fool of herself than she already had. 
Slowly, Lord Huntington stood to his full stature before her.  Carly began to tremble; all the while, her eyes could not leave his own.  The air crackled with the energy between them. Was she insane to remain here before him?  Yet she could not move. 
Deliberately, he reached down to move the other chair purposely closer to the fire.  “You seem cold…for you are trembling.  Won’t you please join me at the warmth of the fire?” 
Immediately, he was covering her in a warm throw.  Her shock and gratitude showed upon her face.  She could only stare.  Shaking herself, she looked at the flames of the fire instead, her anxiety confusing her.  Finally able to gain a response from her body, Carly slowly lowered herself into the chair he had provided.
“You were going to look for a book?” he asked. 
Beside herself with nerves, she stammered, “I…I was, yes.”  Why would he not sit down?  Or go away!  He was so…so large! 
He, on the other hand, thought the chair seemed to swallow Lady Blakemore up.  She was quite the petite little thing.  “You cannot sleep then?”
Shaking her head and curls, she said, “I cannot.  I am sure I shall adjust quickly though, my lord.”  Carly pulled the blanket more tightly around herself, wishing to disappear. 
Lord Huntington, stiff and unyielding, was a combination of moods tonight, for he looked rather guilty as he sat down across from her.  “I am sorry if I have been demanding of you already.  I have brought you undue stress,” he stated.  “I do not wish to be heavy handed and cause you to lose sleep.” 
Surprised at his offered apology, she was silent.  Never would she expect this man to apologize to anyone, let alone to herself. 
After a moment, she spoke, “Thank…thank you, my lord.  I can be quite outspoken.  It is a weakness, I’m afraid.”  Was that a smile she saw? 
Changing the subject, Lord Huntington uncharacteristically asked, “What do you like reading?  Do you have favorites?  As you can see, we have an extensive library to choose from,” he waved his hand toward the shelves. 
Again, uncertain at his offered, almost-friendly, conversation, she wavered.  She did not feel she was on a leveled playing field in her nightgown.  “Well, I…I do.  But I…I was simply looking for any kind of distraction to help me fall asleep, my…my lord.”
Leaning forward, he insisted upon an answer, “Tell me.  What do you enjoy?”
“Well,” she looked at him timidly, shocked by his discussion, “I do love poetry, for many reasons, but mostly because…,” she hesitated and looked up, a rosiness appearing across her cheeks even in the firelight. 
“Do go on, mostly because…what?” 
The heat grew upon her face till she was positively glowing with color; she was hesitant to disclose such personal feelings to him.  Him of all people!  After a moment, she continued anyway or risk seeming completely immature.  This was not a giggly conversation with her sister, after all.  “Because…because poetry can be so romantic.”  Would that she could sound grown?  “I mean, um, well…I…I find poets can be so expressive in the feelings of the heart.”  She could almost hear her teeth chattering.  “It..it has always fascinated me that a person can describe with simple words, so well, what comes deep from within a soul.”  There.  That sounded somewhat grown up.  But true, nevertheless. 
He looked uncomfortable. “I see.  And,” he prompted, yet unsure he wanted to keep this dialogue going. 
“Well, I am a woman you know, so, I like,” she began, but he interrupted. 
“Yes, I am extremely well-aware of the fact that you are, indeed, a woman.”  An unnerving twinkle shone from his dark eyes.  Even in the firelight, he could tell she was blushing again.  He was finding she did this quite regularly and with very little effort.  Maybe this conversation wasn’t so boring.  “Indeed, I would say you are a fine sampling of womanhood.” 
Carly thought she would die of embarrassment!  Would that she could!  She found herself tripping over herself, yet again.  “What…what I meant was that women are…are sort of romantic creatures, you know.”  She could not believe she was having this conversation with him.  What a blundering fool she was!  Oh, heaven help me! 
“Yes, I know.  Do go on.”  Still, the alarming twinkle sparkled in his eyes. 
Frustrated with herself, a little more fire returned to her address.  “I am merely saying I enjoy a good romance, whether it be in poetry form or a lovely story.  The happily ever after thing and all.  I simply love happy endings.”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “I so dislike being sad.” 
“I see.”  Her nose was in the air again.  Such a delightful little nose. 
“Do you?  You see, my parents were so in love.”  Her nerves had caught up with her tongue and now she was sure she babbled ceaselessly.  “The way they talked to each other, the way they looked at each other, one could always tell.  They could finish each other’s sentences, they were so in love.”  
She was correct.  She was babbling. 
“It made such a difference to my sister and I to be part of a happy family.  I think it is crucial to any family.” 
He was frowning, but nodded for her to continue. 
“Well, I guess that is why I love reading about love and happy endings.  I have seen both the lack of it and the abundance of it.  I much prefer the abundance.” 
The sting on his face was evident.  Carly thought he must be thinking of his departed wife.  They sat in silence for several moments till she bravely asked, “What kind of reading do you enjoy, my lord?” 
Still frowning, he answered automatically, “Anything I can get my hands on, but mostly history.”  Quietly looking up at her, he added, “And…occasionally, poetry.” 
Before she could stop herself, she exclaimed with great surprise, “You do?  I would not have guessed that of you.  Well, I would the history, but not the…”  She froze and shook her head in instant apology, “Oh sir, I am sorry to presume…”  Faltering, she looked at him, but he was staring at her intently, almost humorously.  “I should not be so bold.”  What was he thinking of her now?  Could she muddle this conversation any more than she already had?  “I…I do apologize.” 
Chuckling a little, he did not relieve her much, for she was too astonished that he had such emotion. 
He only continued to stare at her, taking in her hair that fell around her shoulders spilling upon the cozy blanket enveloping her. Her tiny slippers peeked out from under her nightgown hem. She was so petite.  So tempting.
Suddenly, she stood and said, “Please, excuse me.  I apologize again for intruding.  I…I shall pick out my book and get along to bed so you can have your library back to yourself. And if you don’t mind, I…I shall keep this…this blanket until morning?”  When he nodded his head in assent, she walked over to the nearest bookshelf.  She could still feel his gaze upon her, watching her every move.  Why didn’t she just leave, she asked herself.  And yet if she did without her desired book, she surely would never sleep now.
Creighton was mesmerized by this unpretentious young lady as she picked her way through the shelves; the way her hair, in all its amazing length, moved and bounced when she took a step; the way the blanket shifted around her lovely curves as she swayed.  Even from here, he could still distinguish her subtle fragrance which smelled of roses.  What would it be like to hold her, he wondered?  He shook his head from the thought.  He refused to consider it. 
Carly looked over her shoulder to see his hands raking through his dark hair.  Oh!  He must be so perturbed with her.  She immediately said, “I beg your pardon, my lord.  I can tell I have disturbed your solitude tonight.  I will just go.”  But she stood dumbly, transfixed by his stare. 
How frightening he could be. 
Carly was completely inexperienced with men and did not have a clue as to what this man was thinking or wishing of her.  Where was her courage now that she needed it most?  She was stupidly petrified by him and this silly situation.  He was looking at her so strangely, which completely unnerved her.  The logs shifted in the fireplace, jolting her nerves.  The receding light the fire was now giving was of little comfort. 
Slowly, Lord Huntington stood and walked towards her in the darkening room, forcing her to back away from him until she was against the library shelving. 
What did he want with her? 
She refused to ask. 
Lord Huntington was inches from her.  She questioned him with her eyes while her breathing became labored.  What was he going to do?   Was he angry with her again?  Might he really be a monster like the gossips made him out to be?  The blanket fell to the floor, pooling at her feet.  But she was helpless to do anything about it. 
His eyes longingly took her in.  So beautiful…she looked so soft and vulnerable. His rigid reserve wavered.  As his hand came up and gently touched her face, she gasped out loud.  Gently, softly his fingers rubbed her velvet-soft cheek. 
Closing her eyes at the intimate contact, she could not breathe.  Breathe, she told herself. 
Tracing along her delicate jaw, he made her tremble from the touch of his warm fingers.  Leaning in, he inhaled her fragrant skin and whispered only one word, “…enchanting.”  She started.  They looked into each other’s eyes, the firelight flickering upon their faces. 
He leaned closer. 
Unwillingly, she pressed her hands against his chest and just as quickly took them away, only to replace them again from fear of his proximity.  Feeling his solid muscles, she grew more frightened of him still. 
His breath was warm, making her quiver as he whispered in her ear, “You look like an angel.  Where are your tiny wings?  Your halo?” 
She looked into his eyes, confusion clearly showing in her own. Such kind words from him filled her with frightening emotions; the kind of words that were a balm to her lonely heart.  Slowly inhaling, she felt lightheaded and heady.  She closed her eyes to his intense gaze.  When she opened them, the softness of his look astonished her, as did his nearness. 
Leaning forward almost against her, he reached his long arm above her head.  Closing her eyes again, she thought he would kiss her.  She unintentionally breathed in his masculine scent, catching her breath as she readied herself. 
Her pulse raced.  How could she endure this?  But how could she escape? 
Just run! 
Taking a small book from somewhere above her on a shelf, he handed it to her.  After a still moment, she opened her eyes to see his innocently proffered gift and opened them wider in wonder and embarrassment.  She let go her held breath in a quick sigh.  Her hand shook as she accepted his gift. 
“You might enjoy this book.  It is my favorite poetry.”  Then Lord Huntington gently lifted her chin with his hand.  Quietly, and with great restraint, he whispered, “Sleep well…little angel.”  Almost painfully, it seemed, he turned and walked out of the room. 
Carly was alone. 


For long moments, Carly leaned against the bookshelf trying to recapture her breath, her hand to her throat.  She could not read now even if she wanted to. 
Had he only been getting her a book all that time?  What a way of going about it.  Did he not see he had frightened her?  Quivering, she was so confused; for she had thought…she was sure—well, almost sure—he had determined to kiss her. 
What if he had actually done so? 
How would she have coped with a kiss when only receiving this book had thrown her into such a dither?  I am hopeless, she thought. 
“Oh!  I am sure I shall never recover myself!” she whispered to the darkness.  Pressing the book to her breast, she thought, Nevertheless, I shall take this book…and perhaps several more. Deciding this was actually a very good idea, she tested her footing by letting go of the shelving.  There, she was yet standing.  After concluding it would take much reading to stop the rapid beating of her heart, she randomly grabbed an armful of books and her candlestick, quickly making her way back to her room. 
What she did not know was Lord Huntington still silently watched her from the darkened doorway of the Study.  Having sensed in Lady Blakemore a naïveté and innocence to the ways of men, Creighton found this pleased him. 
Clearly, she had not understood the struggle he had experienced facing her just now dressed only in her night things, but he knew he had frightened her.  Truly, he had not meant to alarm her; it was simply that, beyond doubt, this intriguing girl was a beauty, in mind and body, over any other female of his acquaintance. 

I've uploaded this revised version to authonomy.com.

Ellise

Monday, November 28, 2011

Monday, November 28, 2011 -- The Governess -- A Twice Weekly Blog


Excerpt from The Governess  -- Chapter 21 continued:

Lord Huntington interjected, “Lady Blakemore comes from Northamptonshire.” 
Lord Carter, quickly catching onto his friend’s agenda, enthusiastically asked, “Exactly where are you from in Northamptonshire, Lady Blakemore?” 
“Well,” she looked suddenly embarrassed at the attention, but loved speaking of home.  “A little place called Harlestone.  Have you heard of it?” 
            “No, I cannot say that I have.” 
            “Yes.  A fine village, I will grant you,” Mr. Hansen interjected, eyeing the beautiful governess admiringly. 
            “You know of it, sir?” 
            “Only passing through, but friendly enough, I should think.”  His benign smile wasn’t that thrilling a prospect, Carly thought. 
            Lord Carter continued his questions as Miss Hansen glared at her brother, his obvious interest in the governess a frustration to her.  She would remind him of their goal. 
“It is beautiful there this time of year, all the blossoms coming out and trees vibrantly green, just like here.  I have enjoyed Lord Huntington’s grounds at length.” 
 “Like you were today, I am sure,” Lord Carter responded.  She smiled prettily at him in agreement, and he wondered at this striking, attractive creature.  Surely Creighton had not known she was such a beauty or he would never have engaged her services.  Understanding became clearer by the way Creighton was acting, for he could sense that it was a test for him to be in her presence, much like this afternoon.  His smile in his friend’s direction said as much, which Lord Huntington only scowled at him in response.  She just might prove to be Creighton’s unraveling, he thought with a wry smile. 
Lady Margaret took advantage of the silence to express to Carly her feelings of superiority.  “So.  You are the governess?”  Menacing eyes examined Carly inch-by-careful-inch.  She was successful in her slight.  Upon seeing her victory, she affectionately turned to Lord Huntington saying, “You are always kind to the hired help, dearest.”  Creighton visibly turned red, but not from embarrassment. 
Lord Carter was surprised that his friend had no retort.  By golly, he is besotted!
Carly, all of grace and charm, quickly stuck out her determined chin as she readied for conflict in which she must defend herself.  “Lord Huntington’s children are quite wonderful, my lady,” she simply said. 
“And you have been here…long?” asked Miss Murtaugh, equally menacing. 
“Not very,” Carly answered. 
Miss Amelia put forth her two pence worth.  “Tending children all day.  I cannot imagine being a glorified nanny.  It would be exhausting, I tell you!  My nanny always looked so tired and haggard.” 
“No wonder,” her brother snorted, and was quickly reprimanded by a death stare.  One would think her red hair warning enough.  It seemed that her reminder was well-rewarded with his efficient return to his meal. 
Lord Carter interrupted, “So tell us; what adventures have you been on with Creighton’s little angels, my only claimed—although unrelated—nephew and niece?” 
            Carly’s nervousness changed quickly with this favorite subject.  Clapping her hands together, she smiled a most brilliant, beautiful smile and even laughed a singsong laugh.  This response surprised everyone as she, again, obtained the attention of all.  “We enjoy Huntington Manor’s many splendors indoor and out, my lord, every day.  Picnics, explorations, strolls, botany lessons.  It truly has been an adventure here.  I have enjoyed myself immensely.  And they—well, they have simply captured my heart, Lord Carter.  Jonathon is now warming up to me quite well, and little Elspeth is such a joy.” 
            “I see.”  Looking over at Creighton, he raised his eyebrows in a question directed at him.  Creighton looked back at him and scowled as if to say, hold your tongue.       

Quite the dinner party.  Such enjoyable guests.  Will Carly yet find friends?

Continue reading from this chapter on Friday.  :)

Ellise

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Re-worked and Re-edited Chapter 4 -- What do you think?

Chapter 4

The Best of Manners
*******


Silence.  Wonderful, delicious smells assaulted the hungry governess’s senses, but she stood frozen unable to bring herself forward.  Though the room was warm, she felt ice cold.  Still reeling with the frightening information Millesant had just disclosed to her about her new master, she finally spotted the feared Lord Huntington as he slowly stood, filling the room with his intimidating presence. 
All was silent except for the crackling fire. 
They stood looking at each other, momentarily taking each other in, before he held her chair out for her to be seated next to him.  “Come,” he spoke, nodding his head toward the chair. 
Shivering slightly, she made her way towards him while noticing his nearly black hair that curled slightly at the ends, apparently still damp from bathing, touching his crisp white collar, which contrasted greatly with his tanned skin.  Obviously this gentleman spent time outdoors, unlike most men of his station. 
She approved. 
Nicely chiseled features and strong jaw looked freshly shaven.  Uncertain as to the color of his eyes, they were, nevertheless, penetrating and dark.  Impeccably dressed with burgundy dinner jacket, biscuit colored trousers and polished boots, she thought he must be the epitome of masculinity, although somewhat impenetrable.  Her breath quickened as she became aware of the obvious characteristics of this gentleman that made her so conscious of him; his handsome face, the broadness of his chest, shoulders, and arms through his nicely cut jacket; tight trousers covered solid legs that stood apart in a stance of superior authority. 
As she drew closer to him in this better lit space than the Study from this morning, she hardly noticed the lovely, light green room and immense table, for this man loomed above her, stealing all attention from anything else.  He bowed in a courtly manner while she curtseyed pleasingly.  She attempted to hold herself with a regal air as she sat down, and he, equally expert in his manners, scooted her in.  Carly nervously put her hands into her lap and sat straight as she could, shoulders back, the way her mother had taught her.   
By outward appearances, the young governess looked calm and confident, but Creighton knew she was scared to be here in his presence.  However, he could not believe the transformation in her. 
What a beauty she was! 
Unable to take his eyes from her, he noticed her gown was simply gorgeous but could also tell she was outgrowing it.  The bodice and waistline fitted smoothly about her form framing her blossoming figure elegantly; the billowing skirts flowing out about her made her appear as all that a princess might be.  Creighton startled at the knowledge that his new governess was so well-endowed with such provocative curves.  Most definitely, a woman sat here before him.
Certainly she would make a fine acquisition.
Quickly brushing this temptation aside, he noticed her hair was her crowning glory.  Thick, dark tresses of auburn curled about her head with small golden nuggets of sparkle here and there.  Her curls framed her face, beckoning one to touch.  Enticing locks rested gently upon her delicate pale shoulder further bidding one to trace one’s finger upon such fine treasure.  He shuddered at the tantalizing impulse. 
Glancing shyly up at him, her stunning green eyes were open wide, nudging at his impassable reserves.  He realized he was still standing, staring openly, but could not help himself.  She was a delight.  Her eyes were framed by thick long, dark lashes and dark, delicately tapered brows.  She seemed apprehensive as she stared back at him.  But there was frank honesty in her sparkling depths which invigorated him like never before in his lifetime.  Again, a shiver ran up his spine.  She was breathtaking…magnificent! 
This angered him. 
Realizing his breach in modesty as he brazenly stared, he released his hold upon her chair and sat down, snapping in the process, “Let supper begin!” 
Carly jumped at the loudness of her master’s deep voice.  Instantly, the butler and several footmen came into the room holding silver trays of food as if they would be serving many guests.  They were diligent in their care of her and the master.  It was obvious to her that Lord Huntington obtained thorough respect from all his servants. 
“I appreciate your being on time tonight,” he barked, impatiently placing his napkin upon his lap. 
Carly fidgeted with her own napkin, noticing also the elegant print upon the bone china about the table. How could she possibly notice stupid details at a time like this?
In her nervousness, Carly unexpectedly hiccupped.  Horrified, she looked up at Lord Huntington to gauge his reaction, but he seemed preoccupied.
Thank heaven!  
Profoundly relieved, she hoped it wouldn’t happen again.  She hated being overwrought, for it always brought on a bout of the hiccups. Heaven help me, she prayed to herself.  Pretending as if it had not occurred, she calmly responded, “Millesant made your wishes known to me, my lord, about…the…uh—I mean, about the supper hour.”
Creighton looked at her, seeing her nervousness and only grew annoyed that he should make her feel so. As dinner was served to the two of them, all that could be heard was the clinking of crystal, silver, and china. 
Then silence.
But silence would be quite welcome to her if only her body would cooperate. The delicious aromas made her stomach growl impatiently, and her hand covered her stomach in embarrassment. Would her body not stop betraying her so?  Feigning ignorance, it happened a second time, the footman serving her pretending he did not hear. Good man.
Thoroughly embarrassed, Carly looked at Lord Huntington who, this time, only said, “I am quite sure your stomach will approve of Mrs. Cooper’s culinary delights.”
Carly nodded shyly, her face freshly pink with color. Father, please help me through this meal, she prayed. Waiting for a formal prayer to be offered before beginning her meal, she waited patiently as Lord Huntington began devouring the creamed pea soup with freshly baked bread and melting butter in hand. 
Looking up, he froze mid-chew, and startled that she was not enjoying as well.  “Is there something that does not meet with your approval, Lady Blakemore?” 
“Only that we...did not say grace, my lord.” 
Frowning at this interruption—and her obvious impudence—and disliking that he instantly felt like a guilty schoolboy being reprimanded by his tutors who were trying to teach him endless discourses on propriety, he sighed heavily, placing his spoon down, his bread down; and wiping at his mouth with his napkin, in a great show of annoyance, he nodded his head in her direction, sharply saying, “Well then, please proceed.” 
As she folded her delicate hands together and offered a humble prayer in thanksgiving, he felt a small tug at his cold, hard heart.  There was no preaching or scolding; only offering up to God a simple prayer of gratitude.  This would now become a habit at mealtime, he was sure.  Clearing his throat gruffly, he began his meal again, this time making sure she was eating as well. 
Dreadfully aware that Lord Huntington watched her every move, and feeling she was on display for his amusement, she ate in silence. At least her body had finally quieted.  At least there was relief.  
However, if the scowl ever left his face it was quickly replaced with an angry mouth.  Why did he have to be so angry in the first place? Did he not know how difficult it could be to eat when he was fuming and always watching? Carly found she had to work at controlling her growing irritation, for she did not like feeling he disapproved of her without having known her at all. 
The next course was offered.  Succulent ham and mouth-watering mashed potatoes with gravy. 
Lady Blakemore had impeccable manners, he noticed as he tried to find fault with her.  But even the green bean that she was currently consuming was eaten with perfect precision.  Creighton was confused at his response to Lady Blakemore’s presence. 
She certainly was a beauty, but what of it?
Yes, she was easy to look upon, but why should he care? 
Creighton had disciplined rigid control over his own feelings and thoughts towards the opposite sex.  Years of control.  Although Creighton was callous and abrupt with most women, he was still a most desirable catch.  Quite perplexing.
His growing emotion confused him.
It irritated him.
He thought again of the many invitations that came his way regularly in hopes of gaining his attentions.  The constant callers, even though he lived a country life.  Regardless of what was said of him, his social status had only grown from the curiosity of others.  It was only his presence at gatherings that had stopped. He had no desire to become entangled with another disastrous marriage.  So why was it that, here and now, he found he could hardly take his eyes from this young governess throughout their meal together? 
It was infuriating. 
He was becoming more and more annoyed the longer they sat together. 
Finally, Carly could stand his intense, emotionally-charged silence no longer.  Forcing pleasantness into her soft voice, she flattered him by sincerely saying, “My compliments to your cook.  What a marvelous meal has been prepared for us tonight.  I have never tasted better.”  Timidly attempting a smile, she found it difficult to look him in the eye. 
Seeing her efforts, yet her continued discomfort, convinced him to try harder to be kind.  Of course—this was always a stretch for him. 
Nodding his head, he answered, “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliment to Mrs. Cooper.  She always appreciates her talents being prized.”  
There, that was not so hard.  However, a smile was not attempted.
Carly tried more conversation.  “I have noticed you have an extensive staff.”  Only silence was given in reply. She continued, “They…seem very kind.” 
He only nodded gruffly, obviously annoyed.
“I believe you have assigned a maid to me, as well.” 
“Yes,” he responded rather impatiently, quickly glancing up before returning to his meal. 
Then and there, she decided to treat her new master as if she had never before heard the rumors concerning him or his late wife.  How could she function with this always in her head?  Determined to be herself and to bring forward what was on her mind, she said, “Sir, this is appreciated, I assure you, but quite unnecessary as I am extremely capable of taking care of myself.”  
All eating subsided.  Lord Huntington stared. 
She turned pale.
He thought it difficult for her to have shared these opinions.
Again, she repeated what she had told the maid, “I…I have never had a personal maid, sir, nor do I plan on having one now.”  Nervously, she fingered her napkin.   
He sat staring, surprised at this slip of a thing. Recovering himself, he said, unconvincingly, “I am sure you are quite capable, Lady Blakemore.”  Taking a drink from his goblet, he wiped at his mouth with his napkin and continued, “But, I insist upon the help; for I believe your duties will become less tiresome with aid, or so I have experienced in the past.” 
Her nostrils flared, “Already you think me incapable of handling your children?”
Now her face was red.  How she wore her feelings upon her face.
Just as if he had said ‘yes’ out loud, he looked her over, carefully, making her squirm.  “I would rather give you a fighting chance is all, Lady Blakemore.” 
Suddenly irritated with the continued use of her title, she shook her head, exclaiming, “My lord, I insist upon a less formal title, please.  Miss Blakemore will do.  I am simply not used to being referred to as Lady Blakemore.”
Lord Huntington looked at her, calculating.  She was naïve.  She was innocent.  Why had this responsibility fallen to him?  Nevertheless, he would inform her.  Impatiently, he stated, too flippantly perhaps, “You are young; and, I think, inexperienced with society.” 
Taken aback, Carly exclaimed, “Wh…what do you mean?  Not at all.” 
“The world at large can be quite cruel, and I think you have yet to experience that.” 
“What does that have to do with my title?” 
He watched her carefully as his meaning dawned upon her. 
“Oh…”  She thought of how titles certainly have their advantages in certain circles.  Her family’s title had never meant anything to her before; except for the occasional ball and party she was expected to attend because of it. The inheritance that had helped raise her and her sister had come from that world of gentility she was so keen upon forgetting.  This household, of course, functioned in that world of snobbish peerage that would judge a person according to their wealth, title, and position in society.  Carly smoothed her skirts.  Deciding she wanted nothing to do with this class structure, she continued, “I do not wish to be a part of people’s lives that would judge a person just for their particular title or the amount of riches they have or have not.” 
“You choose to bury your head in the sand like an ostrich then?” 
“No.  I simply think it foolish to take a person’s value so lightly.” 
With appreciation for her sensible words, he nodded his head, considering her opinion.  “You are more wise than I believed.” 
Did she see admiration in his expression?  “Thank you, my lord.” 
“Yet, you respect my title?” 
“Of course.  You are my employer.  I wish to satisfy you and keep my position.” 
Her frank honesty made him laugh out loud, to her shock. This is refreshing, he thought.  He could see that she was startled by his unexpected laughter.  But then, even the butler and footmen were.  “You are honest as well as wise.” 
Still recovering from this spent emotion from him, she whispered, “I do try my best.” 
“And yet you argue with me?  Good!”  He was genuinely surprised at her.  Pleasantly so.  He motioned to the butler to go ahead with the next course.  “But, I must say, as your employer, I act also as a sort of guardian to you.  It is in your best interest to use your title, at least while you are in my household.” 
“But I do not see why—well, yes, I see why—but I do not feel it right.”
“You will, in time, Lady Blakemore.  Now, please accept my attention to detail on your behalf and do not dispute the point.” 
Hesitantly, she nodded in compliance to his greater wisdom upon this subject, feeling perturbed by his arrogance.  Carly tried a different topic, one of more importance to her presently.  “I look forward to meeting your children, my lord.”
All pleasantries were over.
She noticed the scowl returning to his face as he continued eating, ignoring her completely. “In fact, I would much prefer getting right to work starting my day tomorrow with introductions to the children.”
Irksome.  That’s what she was. 
Lord Huntington was now looking at her with furrowed brow and what could only be described as a black cloud which suddenly darkened his countenance.  She would not cower.  She continued undaunted. “And I am quite confident that I will not be ‘tiresome’ if my maid is assigned to much more pleasant duties.” 
Carefully, methodically, Lord Huntington put his utensils down, placing his elbows on the table and crossing his fingers giving Carly a good long look with puckered brows.  His inspection of her made her pale and prompted her to put down her own utensils.
This was going to be serious, she could tell.
“I expect you to follow my orders while under my roof and my watchful eye.”  He continued to glare at her. 
Gulping, she looked him dead on.  “Yet you encourage my view?”             
Her courage was tantalizing.  “Of course.  But do not expect me to agree.” 
“Do you expect me to always agree with you, my lord?” 
“Are you a silly girl then, after all?” 
Blushing generously, she indignantly said, “I think not, sir!” 
“Then why would you always agree with me?” 
“I am sure I shall not!” 
“But you will obey me.”  It was a command.  He looked steadily down upon her. 
“I do not agree about the maid…” she brusquely stated. 
“But, you will obey me.”  He looked almost humorously at her for a moment. 
She would not be laughed at.  “I find it strange that I cannot meet with your children right away.”  She continued to oppose him. 
Something powerful emanated from him.  She could feel it like a hand reaching out to her throat, grasping at it.  Her eyes grew wide.
Lord Huntington was angry with her.  His wrath curled and filled the room.  His breathing was labored.  Yet, he gained control before it was ever unleashed.  And then, he stated, “You may find my ways strange to you, but you have no choice in the matter if you wish to stay in my employ.”  His look was dark, mysterious. 
Carly was alarmed.  Now, she was angry.  She was impatient with all his scowling and commanding, his making her afraid.  “My lord, if I am to be a part of any household, I must be myself,” she shivered, “and in being myself, I must speak my mind as I see fit or go mad with frustration at being false in any way.”  More shivers enveloped her body.  His countenance frightened her.  “If you will learn anything of me, let it be that I believe my opinion matters.” 
Now visibly shaking from exerting this side of herself, she suddenly became annoyed at having been forced from a known world of contentment and fulfillment to one in a strange household at the mercy of a formidable master, but she did not wish to lose herself in this process.  She must be allowed to be as honest as possible with those around her.  Even him.
Surprised at her passionate disclosure, Creighton sat looking at her, exhilarated with her defiant views.  After a moment of allowing her more discomfort, he said, “First of all, I can deal most excellently with your opinion, whether you agree with me or not.  Secondly, I cannot believe any one of my servants would find any ‘more pleasant duties’ than serving you.”  Her face grew warm, indignant.  He almost smiled.  “Thirdly, I will introduce the children to you in two days as was planned; and, then, finally…I do not like being crossed, Lady Blakemore.  You see, my word is final.” 
Dark eyes narrowed down upon her, “There is no debate.” 
Standing with quiet strength, all six plus feet of him, Lord Huntington smoldered, leaning down over his haughty, headstrong governess. 
Catching her breath, she sat back in fear, hand at her throat. 
In a hushed tone, still vibrating throughout the entire room, he said, “You will cease this line of questioning me.  Do as I ask,” straightening, he finished, “please.”  Sitting, he resumed his meal. 
Stunned to silence, her fingers trembled as she placed her napkin upon the table.  After a moment of watching him eat, she asked, “May I please be excused?”  
Displeased that she would run from their battle of wills, he nodded, “As you wish.” 
She stood with quiet grace, head held high, and came and stood before him surprising him that she was not, indeed, simpering away.  Smiling at her courage, he also stood as any gentleman would, vibes pulsing between them.  Looking down upon her with his devilish smile, he captured a whiff of her gentle fragrance.  Her delicate nose was slightly turned up at the end giving her a flirty, pixie-like innocence.   She was so petite, so becoming, so willful after all!    
With all the confidence and strength she could muster, Carly looked up into her master’s darkly handsome face and stated, “Sir, I will not be controlled.  I will do as I please within the agreement made between us.  I am a lady, and you, my lord, will please treat me as such.”  Faltering for only a moment, she steadied her hand upon the table, pulling at his conscience, his steadfast resolve.  With grace and poise, Carly continued, “I will accept your kindness of the maid and the day tomorrow to adjust myself to my new surroundings.  I thank you and…goodnight.” 
Bowing in acceptance, he allowed her to go. 
With a rustle of her skirts, she curtsied, turned and gracefully exited as if she were, indeed, a princess leaving her throne room before her humble subjects.  Noticing the gentle sway of her hips, unlike the over-exaggerated pretense of society women, Lord Huntington stood there stunned. 
Scowling now as he sat, a hint of a smile came to his lips as his dessert was served him.  Creighton hardly noticed his favorite pudding as he thought of this small but spunky little governess with the gorgeous hair. 
           

After quietly eavesdropping at the door upon the conversation between Lord Huntington and the new governess, Mrs. Cooper, the cook, and Mrs. Thompson, the housekeeper, and best of friends, snuck back into the kitchens.  Not only had they worked together for more than thirty years, but had raised their families together as well.  Not too many things within the great manor house escaped their sharp eyes or ears. 
“She is a little firecracker, that one!”  Mrs. Thompson was clearly surprised. 
“My, my!  I would never have guessed it of our new little governess, to stand up to the master so boldly.  And did you notice how he took it?  Stood there watching her walk away like she owned him.” 
“We might be in for an interesting jaunt, eh?”  They both giggled like school girls, their heads together. 
“I cannot wait to tell the others.” 

I would like to know what you think about my new version of Chapter 4.  Do you like it, or do you like the original chapter better?  Thanks for your help!

Ellise

Friday, November 25, 2011

Friday, November 25, 2011 -- The Governess -- A Twice Weekly Blog

Excerpt from The Governess -- Chapter 21 continued:

Carly had not been to a dinner party in such a long time.  She was sure she should enjoy herself, for everything was fabulous.  Yet, she was reservedly excited.  Surely it was a lot to ask of her to sit beside the leering Mr. Stone.  He seemed to have reserved his manners for mixed company.  She would not soon forget.  Carly secreted away an impish thought that she would influence Mr. Thompson next time on the place settings.  She smiled at her hidden, wicked thoughts. 
As everyone started chatting around the table, the butler oversaw as footmen served the first course.  Delicious, creamy soup, fish, and a variety of vegetables were served in addition to the lovely meats, fruits, and artichokes displayed around the table. 
“Oh, dear Creighton!  You have outdone yourself again.  You always do for us though.”  Lady Margaret cooed at Lord Huntington as her chin rested flirtingly upon her gloved hand trying to be as close to him as possible. 
Lord Huntington seemed preoccupied, yet gracious as he said, “Always for the Pembrookes,” in his deep resonating voice.  
“And what of the Hansen’s, my naughty lord,” Miss Amelia Hansen flirted on his other side. 
Lord Huntington uncomfortably cleared his throat and nodded to Miss Amelia, saying, “Why of course.  How could I ever exclude you, Amelia?” 
Nodding her approval, she looked maliciously towards Lady Margaret, their competition ripe with envy.  The air sizzled with intensity. 
Creighton must control this situation, he thought.  And why had he sat between these two anyway?  Had Thompson conspired against him?  Or mother?  And where was she when he needed her expert skills at manipulating decorum? 
Gaining the attention of Lady Madeline, he said, “Mother wished for me to give you an hello, and that she shall be here soon.  She misses you terribly.” 
Snorting impatiently, Lord Pembrooke exclaimed, “It has only been a fortnight since they saw each other, my lord.  Hardly time to miss each other.” 
Ignoring her husband’s comment, Lady Madeline said, “I miss her too, dear.  She is such a good friend, always so concerned about me.”  Lady Madeline coughed into her delicate lace handkerchief, a deep body-wrenching cough.  As it subsided, she self-consciously looked back at Lord Huntington to say, “I am doing much better, though, you must tell her.” 
As they began the meal, Lord Huntington continued, “You have not been overdoing it I pray?  Mother and I are worried that you do too much.” 
“No, dear.  Do not worry so.” 
Lord Pembrooke sighed heavily obviously impatient with this constant subject. 
Mr. Stone put in, “It must be consoling to have such a devoted friend as Lady Huntington.” 
“Why, yes!  She has always been my best nurse, Mr. Stone.”  Lady Madeline beamed back at him. 
Carly noticed the dark circles under her eyes and wondered at her health conditions.  She visibly had endured much suffering, but seemed to have born it well.  Lord Carter poured wine for Lady Madeline as she began coughing again.  
Quickly, Miss Hansen got up from her seat to attend to Lady Madeline.  She seemed positively strained over her condition.  “Lady Madeline, is there anything I can do for you?” 
Lady Madeline silently shook her head before she drank from the goblet that Miss Hansen held for her. 
 “I daresay you get all the attention, mother dear.”  Lady Margaret smiled at her mother, but her eyes were ice cold. 
Carly instantly wished that this young lady would, instead, show compassion for the obvious discomfort her mother endured.  Then, unexpectedly, she noticed the cold eyes upon herself. 


What is wrong with Lady Margaret Pembrooke?  So uppity and snobbish!

Read more from this segment on Monday.  : )

Ellise