We’re moving on to book two of my Other Pens series this week. You’ve met these characters already if you’ve read Henry: To Prove Himself Worthy since both of these characters are good friends with the main characters in book one.
This is how I like to build series. Each book is a stand alone, complete romance, but what happens in earlier books lays the foundation for and adds to the fictional world in which the characters live.
I like reading, and therefore, writing, series that are like this since it really gives me a feel for a place and society/group of friends or family that I might wish were real enough to visit. So when, I say, “step into their world” at the end of this little promo video I made for the series, I hope you really do feel like you are doing just that when your read any of my books!
Now, back to Charles and Evelyn, also known as Mr. Edwards and Miss Barrett. Let’s step into their world as they are at a play in chapter 3 of Charles: To Discover His Purpose.
You’ll notice some other familiar faces – Aunt Gwladys, Constance, Henry, Trefor – in this partial scene because everything that happened in the last book is what this book is building on.
And, I have another fun addition to the end of this post like I did last time. It’s another video but much longer.
Moments after the play began, Charles completely forgot to think about how he could sway the Barrett ladies to his favour as he became engrossed in the tangled web of deceit playing out on the stage below him. As the curtain dropped at the end of the first act, he stretched his legs out so far as the space would allow him and tilted his head from side to side as he brought his sensibilities back to the present.
“Are you enjoying the diversion?” Evelyn asked, leaning forward.
He turned his head and smiled. “Immensely.”
“I am glad. Mrs. Malaprop is horrid to Lydia, is she not? And her misuse of words!” Her beautiful pink lips slid into an amused smile. “It is rather funny, is it not?”
“Indeed, she is horrid, and it is humorous.” He leaned toward her. “We are fortunate that there is a chandelier here to keep this corner of the box so well lit, for if it were not there, I would not be allowed to speak to you. As it is, your mother is glaring at me as much as Mrs. Malaprop might glare at Ensign Beverley, despite the light the candles provide.”
“She is not pleased with me,” Evelyn admitted.
“Then, we have that in common,” Charles replied with a laugh, “for I dare say she is not pleased with me either.” Not that it was an unusual thing for guardians of young ladies to be displeased with Charles. He was nearly immune to their censure. However, in this instance, he was going to have to be concerned with Mrs. Barrett’s disapproving looks, for he needed to change them. He would, before the end of the month, see her welcoming him with something less like a scowl. He would strive for a smile, but he was not certain a lady so severe as Mrs. Barrett ever welcomed anyone with a smile. He would have to watch her. It was the only way to learn about what she approved and disapproved. Speaking to her daughter was on the disapproved list, but that really was not an action he could avoid. He must speak to Miss Barrett if he ever hoped to sway her heart toward caring for him.
“She does not approve of you.”
“Not many mothers do.”
“Why?”
Charles smiled. “My reputation is not completely the work of fancy, my dear.”
Miss Barrett’s scowl was much more becoming than that of her mother. Charles found he did not mind such a look from Evelyn. She would likely look charming wielding a broom and shouting her displeasure. Her features were just so well-proportioned. Her eyes were such a lovely shade of green and her lips, ah, her lips. Was there ever a set of lips more perfectly shaped into a bow of pink?
“But why do you insist upon behaving in such a fashion?” Her eyes grew wide, and she looked over her shoulder at her mother. “Do not answer that. Pretend it was never spoken. I have already lost one day of callers; I do not wish to lose a full week.”
“Lost a day of callers?” Charles questioned in surprise.
“Shhh.” Evelyn’s reply was quick and accompanied by another hasty look toward her mother.
“I should not have said that,” she whispered. “I promise you I do not speak so freely around everyone.” Her head shook slightly from side to side in self-reproach.
“See, it is as I said. I am special,” he quipped.
One of her lovely brows rose. “Or you are as annoying as my brother, and I believe that is the more accurate conclusion.”
“Whatever you must tell yourself.”
She gasped, folded her arms, and leaned back in her seat.
“Take care,” Linton murmured beside him.
Charles inclined his head in acceptance of the warning before glancing over his shoulder again at those behind him. Mrs. Barrett was still looking at him in a wary fashion. Constance had leaned toward her friend and was discussing something in a whispered tone behind her fan while Henry caught his eye and raised a brow. It seemed that the only one not questioning his intent in talking with Miss Barrett was Mrs. Kendrick, who actually smiled at him. However, that might have been the most startling response of all since she often greeted him with less civility than Mrs. Barrett was currently displaying.
He would have to tread carefully, and for the remainder of the play, he did. In fact, the rest of the evening was rather uneventful. There were no arguments or raised brows. There were no pretty scowls or exasperated huffs. Conversation between acts turned to the mundane. Mrs. Barrett relaxed, Linton appeared to be enjoying himself if his smile was any indication, and Charles grew restless.
“How do you keep yourself?” Evelyn asked when they were finally rising to leave.
“I am not certain I understand your meaning,” Charles replied.
“What do you do for entertainment during the day?” Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head as he smiled slowly in answer. “Sleep.”
He chuckled for it was not a question but rather an answer – one that she was making for him.
“You should consider doing something with your time other than sleeping,” she said. Then, as her mother’s eyes narrowed at her, Evelyn dipped a curtsey. “I am delighted that you were able to have a night of entertainment rather than sitting alone at home, Mr. Edwards.” She moved to leave but then turned back. “There are many things you could do, you know? There are a variety of good causes which could use your support, and it is much more fulfilling than sleeping your life away.” She dipped one more curtsey, gave Constance a hug, thanked Trefor for the opportunity to attend the theatre, and scooted after her mother.
He paused, and his brows furrowed. It seemed that there was another person besides Trefor Linton who thought he could be more than he currently was. A strange feeling very akin to satisfaction crept over him.
“Whatever you are thinking, stop,” Linton said.
“Must you always assume that my mind is constantly engaged in plotting the scandalous?”
“Is it not usually so engaged?”
Charles shrugged. He did spend an excessive amount of time plotting pleasure, but not this time. Well, not directly. Kissing Miss Barrett would be pleasurable, and that was his aim, was it not? However, there was no need to shatter Linton’s vision of him. So, he affected an easy smile and said, “I was merely pondering Miss Barrett’s advice. It is similar to what you told me earlier about continuing to behave nobly, and I find I must consider discovering a charity in need of a handsome benefactor.”
“An action is only noble if it is performed for the right reason,” said Mrs. Kendrick.
Ah, there was the disapproval he was more familiar with from her.
“Your helping Henry was noble because you did it out of the goodness of your heart for a friend.”
Her brow rose, both challenging him to refute her if he dared and letting him know that she did not believe his actions in helping Henry had been altogether pure.
“Continue down that vein, and you will do well.” Mrs. Kendrick’s head tipped to the side. “Serving only yourself by behaving nobly will lead to naught more than heartache.” Her lips curled into a small smirk, and her eyes twinkled. “Ask Mr. Crawford. It was only after he learned to care for someone more than himself that he found himself satisfied.”
Mr. Crawford was too busy kissing his lady’s fingers to be bothered with such a question, which, Charles supposed, was the answer Mrs. Kendrick wished him to receive.
“Duly noted,” he replied.
Mrs. Kendrick tipped her head and studied him. Then with a small sigh, as if she could read his thoughts regarding his intentions and knew that they were less than honourable, she instructed Trefor to give her his arm.
When writing this story, I did some research to discover a play that could be in my mind as I wrote this scene. I was delighted when I found that there was a video of a production, staged by BergenCommCollege, of the play “The Rivals” by Richard Sheridan. I most certainly watched it before writing the above scene. (Just a heads up, the sound is not always great. Headphones might help. The video is just over 2 hours long.)
