(If you’d prefer to listen to this post in audio read by Christopher, my cloned narrator, you can do that on YouTube at this link.)
Many years ago, at the very beginning of my writing “career” (while I still had a day job as a teacher), I wanted to make writing a regular practice. This desire became a plan for a writing exercise called Thursday’s Three Hundred, which was doomed to fail. 🙂
The plan was to use a random visual prompt and write three hundred, equally as random, words of a story scene, that I would share on my blog each Thursday.
The exercise failed because I found I couldn’t just write three hundred words and move on. That very first three hundred words begged to be turned into a story called Hope at Dawn, and the next new story I started begged me to turn it into a series — what is now my Willow Hall Romance series. So, while the exercise failed in part, that failure has produced a fair number of stories, and I did develop a consistent writing practice. In that way, it was more of a success than a failure.
Today, I’m sharing the first chapter of that first failed exercise that was prompted by the image in the video graphic of a Sunset on Fogo Island. I took this picture not too far from the cottage at which I was staying in Joe Batt’s Arm. This was the first trip I had ever taken to Fogo and was when I fell in love with the remote and rugged beauty of the place.
Hope at Dawn begins on a rocky shoreline as a gentleman, who was not deemed worthy enough to marry the lady he loves, waits for her to return home after an extended period of time away.
As he sits, watching the waves while darkness fades into light, faint hope is the only thing to which he has to cling as he waits to see if the work he’s done while she’s been gone is enough to now be worthy of her hand.
Hope at Dawn
Chapter 1
As the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving its fiery glow resting upon the gently rolling black waters, Nicholas Sidemore spotted the boat for which he had been waiting, bobbing just on the edge of the sea ─ where the water dropped away and could be seen no longer. His heart raced at the sight of her, and he swallowed the fear that rose inside him as the vessel drew closer. It would not be long now ─ a few hours or perhaps a day ─ until he knew his fate.
Using the glow of his lantern to light the way, he carefully picked his way around the rocks lining the shore. Choosing a large one with a smooth top, he sat down. From this vantage point, he could easily see the entrance to the harbour and past it to the sea beyond.
This was where he had sat every night for over a fortnight waiting for that boat. When three and then four days of waiting had stretched into weeks, he had thought she had chosen not to return; however, there the boat was, three weeks late but with its course obviously set for the bay.
“She’s arriving before dawn.” A man of slightly smaller stature but with similar features to Nicholas’s slid onto the rock next to him. “I hear tell by the other captains that there has been some bad weather. It is probably the cause of her running so late.”
Nicholas nodded. That was probably the reason…bad weather. It could not be anything else. It just could not be, for he would not allow his mind to travel down that dark and dreary path. He had spent a year next to it and even been chased down it a time or two by the demons who lurked there. It was not a place he wished to visit again. Therefore, he pushed his doubts aside, propped his elbows onto his knees, and, resting his chin in his hands, watched.
“She’s arriving before dawn.” His brother’s voice broke the silence which had settled in around them. While he repeated exactly what he had said before, Nicholas knew that Jonathan was no longer speaking of the ship.
“And unwed,” Jonathan added.
“She did not marry?” Nicholas turned toward his brother, who shook his head in reply. “How do you know?”
“Casselton.”
A small flicker of hope flashed in Nicholas’s heart. If anyone knew the details of all that was happening in town with its current or past residents, it was Adam Casselton.
However, just as quickly as the hope sprang up in his heart, Nicholas tucked it away. “And how does Casselton know?”
No matter how much Nicholas wanted to hope that she had waited for him, he could not — not yet — for the disappointment would be too great if she had not. When Lady Kathleen Witherfield had left over a year ago with her family, Rupert Dunnaby had joined them, and Nicholas knew that Kathleen’s brother and father had both been in favour of a match with Dunnaby. Dunnaby had money and held a promise of more. Unfortunately, Nicholas had only held a promise of riches a year ago, and a promise of wealth was not enough for the likes of the Witherfield men.
“He had a letter from Witherfield that said Dunnaby is not on board the Mary Ellen. There was some sort of disagreement, and Dunnaby booked passage on a boat heading to the West Indies. According to Casselton, Witherfield and his sister were not sorry to see him go.”
Nicholas drew in a breath and released it slowly. The fear that gripped his heart began to relax its hold, but just slightly. He knew that being unwed and willing to marry him were two very different things.
~*~*~
Kathleen Witherfield pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders and leaned against the hull of the ship. Overhead, a lantern swayed on its hook, causing shadows to dance about the cabin. Although it was well past midnight and she should be sleeping, she was not. The mixture of excitement and trepidation which swirled within her made sleep an impossibility.
Reaching beneath her pillow, she pulled out a worn letter. Carefully, she unfolded it and smoothed it on her lap. The flickering light from the lantern was poor, but she did not need the light to read what was written on the page. She had read this letter so many times that the words would likely always be a part of her memories.
My dearest Kathleen,
I cannot describe the deep, dark, and dank despair which my heart feels tonight as I pen these words of farewell. They are not words I write willingly. Would that I was able to provide for you in a manner your father deemed acceptable! But, I cannot. I can only promise to strive to do so, but what security is there in that? I do not blame your father for refusing me.
Maybe Nicholas could not blame her father, but she could — and she did! She had been furious at her father’s refusal and horrified at his proposed alternative. Rupert Dunnaby was a liar and a cheat, and she had known it almost from their first meeting. Unfortunately, her father and brother had not seen Rupert as she had, at least not in time. She let out a heavy sorrowful sigh and, with a shake of her head to clear the memories of her father, returned to the letter.
I beg of you not to accept Mr. Dunnaby. Give me time to make my fortune. Wait for me, Kathleen. Give me one year to increase my holdings. I shall toil night and day so that when you return, I will be able to provide for you as your father requires. Please do not refuse me this request, for I cannot bear the thought of you with another. I shall look for your answer on the tree behind the church. If I see your locket, I will know you will return to me to retrieve it.
A tear slid down her cheek as her hand moved of its own volition to clasp the locket which hung around her neck. Carefully, she folded the letter and slipped it once again beneath her pillow before snuggling down next to the infant who shared her bed.
Hope at Dawn is free to read at Patreon until the end of October. It can also be found as a standalone ebook or as part of the First Blooms and Second Chances collection of Nature’s Fury and Delights Novelettes on various retailers and is included in the Kobo Plus subscription library.
