Music Monday: Quiet Beauty (James Todd)

“Please, have a seat. Would you care for some tea or perhaps a glass of port?” Mr. Love asked.

“We cannot stay long,” Beatrice replied as Graeme helped her to take a seat.

He was so attentive. He had even been so before he married Beatrice. Grace had not been unaware of the care he gave her cousin when she had been at Heathcote last year. The hand on Bea’s elbow accompanied by the whispered “Are you well?” made Grace wish to sigh, but she refrained and merely smiled at the sight. One day, she would have a gentleman who would be so thoughtful and caring.

“Mr. and Mrs. Shelton are expecting us to return quickly so that we can make plans for today and tomorrow,” Bea continued.

“Do you not just love Miss Hamilton — I mean Mrs. Shelton?” Grace asked eagerly.

Bea smiled softly as she often did. There was such a sweet, gentleness about her. Grace had not admired it so very much until now. It was in complete contrast to Felicity.

[from Her Secret Bea, Touches of Austen Book 3]

Provided to YouTube by CDBaby, June 23, 2015.

Tomorrow, Bea and Graeme enter our Sweet Tuesday tale. This song was one that I added to my Music to Write By playlist on Spotify this week, and it just seems like a perfect song for a sweet and quiet lady such as Bea. Because she and Graeme are entering our story, I will be sharing an excerpt from their book below. 

However, I should update you on what I have been doing in my writing life first.

The answer is not as much as I had planned. LOL My son decided that this past week was the week when he was going to double-down and finish all of his school work. That meant I spent more time on school lessons, grading papers, and writing year-end reports than expected. With all that done, I am now officially retired from my homeschool teaching gig and will be spending some time figuring out how this new phase of life works. I am sure the new reality will not fully set in until the fall rolls around and there are no classes for which to prepare.

I expect there will be some changes coming to how and when I write and run my business, and I’m looking forward to the changes. While some things might start to shift immediately, I am attempting to ease my way into things rather than throwing myself in and finding out I am in over my head. 🙂 Thankfully, having some summer fun things planned will help with this.

All that being said, I did write one chapter each of Her Secret Beau and Persuading Miss Mary. I also finished republishing all the books which just came out of Kindle Unlimited this month. So, if you can’t find them at your favourite retailer already, they are on their way. I understand some vendors take a while to publish things.  If you click the image below, you can find links to the vendors shown and any new ones that populate between now (when I am writing this) and when you click. 🙂

Remember, there is a new group of books in Kindle Unlimited until the end of August when they will leave the program. Check out the Books in KU page listed in the menu to find out which books are there now.

And that is it for the writing news for this week other than to say that I am working on the final edits of Loving Lydia and expect to have news about the release day and a preorder for you next Monday!

Now, for that excerpt from His Beautiful Bea. I think I’m going to share a full chapter again this week. Is everyone ok with such a long story excerpt? 🙂 I hope so. Remember how Roger said he helped his friend become betrothed by making him jealous? Well, we see a bit of that jealousy in this chapter as well as Graeme caring for Beatrice as Grace mentioned in the excerpt at the beginning of this post today.

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Chapter 5 from His Beautiful Bea:

“Have a go, Miss Tierney.” Shelton held out his racket to Bea. “Miss Grace has already outdone me three times. I am quite fatigued.” He smiled and wiggled the racket in invitation. “Your brother says you are quite good at this game.”

“Go on, Bea,” Max encouraged, as he dropped onto the bench next to his sister. “Neither Shelton nor I have been able to beat her. You are our only hope to dethrone Grace as queen of the shuttlecock.”

“Could not Grace and Felicity play each other?” Bea asked. She had been riding earlier that day and, with the weather being so warm, was feeling the first pangs of a headache. A rest would likely drive those pains way while a vigorous game would not.

“Felicity will not play anyone that does not bear the last name Clayton,” Shelton grumbled.

“No matter how loudly anyone bearing that name protests,” added Max.

Bea’s lips curled into a playful smile, and her eyes twinkled with amusement. “It does appear that Mr. Clayton is in a rather foul mood.”

Max chuckled. “I am impressed that he has not yet stomped off in a huff.”

Shelton eased down onto the bench beside Max. “He’ll endure as long as he feels there might be a hope of victory. Loss never sits well with him — a loss to a lady sits even less well.”

Max took the racquet Shelton still held and passed it to Bea. “One game,” he begged. “Losing to a female does not sit well with any gentleman, and begging his sister to take up his defense is not easily done. Please, take pity on us and defend our honour.” He clasped his hands in front of him and turned doleful eyes to her.

“You are pitiful.” Bea laughed as she rose. “I shall do my best to restore your honour.” She curtseyed deeply to the gentlemen on the bench. “I do hope there is a reward for such valiant behaviour.” She winked at Max and went to join the others that stood on the lawn.

Felicity had just hit the shuttlecock in such a fashion that Everett had no chance but to let it fall and surrender his racquet to his brother. Graeme looked less than pleased to be entering the game once again. The manner in which they had been playing required whoever had dropped the shuttlecock to bow out of the game and be replaced by the third person standing at the side. The same process had been followed in the second group, which had to this point been made up of Shelton, Max, and Grace.

“Beatrice,” Grace’s face lit with pleasure as she welcomed her cousin. “Have you seen how many times Felicity has retained her racquet?”

Bea nodded. “I have, and my brother and Mr. Shelton have begged me to play in their stead. I understand they have been unsuccessful in causing you to surrender your racquet and hoped I might do better.”

Graeme guffawed. “Shelton and Max wish you to defend their honour?”

“Men are such delicate creatures,” Bea said, tipping her head and giving him a playful smile. “Their spirits are so easily crushed, and their moods so easily fouled, that one must do all one can to protect them.”

“We are not delicate creatures,” Graeme protested. “Do you hear her, Everett? Condemning all men just because Shelton and Max are not up to the challenge of winning. Shocking, is it not?”

Everett chuckled. “No, not very, considering it is Bea.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Bea asked with feigned innocence.

“You may be quiet and bookish, but you are also devilishly determined once you have set your mind to a task,” Everett replied, smiling broadly.

If he had not called her bookish, Bea might have enjoyed the compliment of being determined, but as it was, she could only partially delight in his praise. She was bookish. It was true. But, to have a gentleman call you such was not flattering — especially if it was a gentleman whom you rather liked and wished would like you.

“She is a fearsome opponent, Miss Grace,” Everett warned.

“Bea?” Grace’s eyes were wide. “I cannot imagine her being anything but sweet and obliging.”

“Oh, she is that,” Everett assured. “Bea is one of the sweetest and most obliging ladies you will ever meet unless she has a mallet or a racquet in her hand.”

“Or a set of cards,” Graeme added. He watched how Bea’s eyes lowered as they always did when people talk about her in any flattering fashion. It, much like the teasing smile she had turned on him just moments ago, was one of the many expressions that he found particularly charming about Bea. “And it was Bea that rounded the tree first this morning on our ride.”

“She beat Shelton?” Everett asked in surprise. He had not gone riding with his brother, Shelton, and Max because Felicity was fearful of horses. So he and she had remained behind at Stratsbury with Grace who was to act as a chaperone for their walk through the gardens and down the lane.

“Just, but beat him she did.”

“He was being gentlemanly,” Bea argued. “I am certain he could have won if he was only riding against other gentlemen.” This was met with a laugh from both Clayton brothers.

“Shelton is rarely a gentleman,” Graeme explained, but then, a disturbing thought crossed his mind. There was one time when Shelton would play the gentleman and allow a lady to win at anything. He glanced over to where Shelton was conversing with Max. Shelton had best not be attempting to win Bea’s affections.

“We have just met,” Bea said. “He was likely trying to make a good first impression. The next ride might be different.”

“The next ride?” Graeme’s head snapped back around to the group gathered around him.

“Yes, the day after tomorrow, if the weather holds, we are to meet for a ride. Max thought two days of riding in a row might be too much for me.” Bea added the last part quietly.

Graeme scowled. Shelton had not mentioned such an arrangement to him. He would make certain he was also part of that ride. Shelton was not going to woo Bea without some interference.

“Must we discuss riding any longer?” Felicity asked. “Can we not play?”

“We have no one to take the place of whoever drops the shuttlecock,” said Grace.

“Oh, I had only planned on playing one game,” Bea explained. “The weather is warm, and my head is a trifle sore.”

Graeme eyed her carefully, looking for any signs that she was unwell. The fact that Bea had mentioned any matter, whether trifling or not, was, in his opinion, a reason to worry. “The winner of your game could play the winner of ours,” he offered. “That is if Bea thinks she could tolerate two games.”

Grace gasped indignantly. “She has not won yet.”

“Oh, but she will,” muttered Graeme. Then, he turned to Felicity. “What say you, Miss Love? If you win this match, which I am not saying you will, are you agreeable to playing Bea,” he smiled and, after a short pause, added, “or your sister.”

“And the winner of that game could play me,” Everett added.

“I will gladly play you,” Graeme said to Everett.

“You?” Felicity tittered. “You have not done very well at beating me yet today, and to play your brother, you shall not only have to beat me but either Beatrice or Grace.”

“Ah, but, to this point, the prize was not to play Bea,” he replied.

Bea rolled her eyes. “I am beginning to regret agreeing to play for Mr. Shelton and Max.”

“But you have agreed,” said Everett. “The winner of your match will play the winner of this match, and then that person shall play me.”

“And then we shall have tea and lounge about until it is time for dinner,” Graeme added.

“Very well,” said Bea, turning to Grace. “You may hit first.”

They took their places, but instead of both teams playing at the same time as they had before, Graeme insisted that he and the others watch Grace and Bea play before playing their own match. Felicity only grumbled slightly before allowing that Everett was likely correct in agreeing with his brother. Graeme was just thankful that he could arrange a short rest period for Bea between games, and he was pleased to be able to watch her play, for her retiring nature was replaced by determination resulting in vigorous play and appealingly rosy cheeks and lively eyes.

“Did I not say she would win?”

Bea’s already flushed face grew warmer at the note of pride in Graeme’s voice. He was always the first to congratulate her on a game well-played — and not just when she was playing against another. He even managed it when she had beaten him at something.

She dipped a curtsey in acceptance of his praise before taking her seat on the lawn next to Grace and Everett.

“Wish me well,” Graeme said to her as he rose.

“May the best player win,” she replied.

He could tell by her expression that she expected him to be annoyed that she had not sent him off to be victorious. But instead of kissing her lips, which were puckered in an attempt to hold back her smile, as he surprisingly felt compelled to do, he merely bowed to her with a flourish and said, “Indeed, he shall.”

Much to his delight, her smile spread across her face at his actions, and he entered this match against Felicity with more interest than he had for any game he had played yet today.

When play began, Grace and Everett cheered for Felicity to win, as was to be expected. Bea, on the other hand, held her peace until Graeme nearly missed returning a volley. Then buoyed by the excitement of the moment, she clapped her hands and shouted a well done.

Hearing her encouragement, Graeme could not help the smile that spread across his face. He gave the shuttlecock a resounding thwack and sent it flying out of Felicity’s reach. He turned and bowed to his audience of three. “Miss Tierney,” he said, extending his hand, “I believe this game is ours.”

“So, it is,” Bea said as she allowed him to help her to her feet. Then she took her place and play began. It was not a short game. For though, Graeme was finding it challenging to keep his eyes where they should be since Bea was far more delightful to look at than some feathered object, he managed to school himself well enough to send many returning volleys.

“Oooh,” Bea cried as her ankle turned, and she went sprawling on the grass, the shuttlecock lying just in front of her racquet. “Blast,” she muttered as she pulled herself up to a sitting position.

“Careful!” Graeme was at her side. “Do not rush in rising.”

She huffed. “I am well. I am not happy, but I am well.” She brushed at the few bits of grass that clung to her.

“Your arm is bleeding,” Graeme said, pressing his handkerchief to the scrape just below her elbow on her right arm. “You should have let that one pass,” he chided softly.

“And let you win?” She brushed at a tear that had escaped the blinking confines of her eyes. The cut on her arm stung and her ankle throbbed, but neither hurt quite so much as her pride.

He winked at her. “I won anyway,” he said softly. He was rewarded with the small smile he sought.

“Is she injured?” Max asked. “It was a spectacular move,” he added as he crouched down next to his sister.

Graeme chuckled. “It was a very graceful leap.” He lifted his handkerchief to examine her scrape. “We should see that this gets cleaned and dressed. Hold this.” He once again pressed the cloth firmly against her still bleeding arm until her hand came to cover his. Then, he slipped his hand out from beneath hers and grabbed her right arm above her elbow as Max took her left arm, and together they helped her rise.

Bea’s ankle, which had throbbed just sitting on the ground, thrummed with pain as she put her full weight on it. She attempted not to grimace. However, her efforts were not enough for her pain to go unnoticed.

“Did you turn your ankle?” Graeme swept her into his arms.

“Yes,” Bea admitted, “but I am certain I can walk.”

“You should not walk on it,” Graeme replied.

“So you must carry her?” Max asked, his eyes registering his shock at Graeme’s holding his sister.

It had only seemed natural for Graeme to gather her into his arms when he saw her lips clench and her brow furrow as she tried to stand. Now, however, he supposed it did look odd that he should be assisting Bea instead allowing her brother to perform the duty.

“It is my doing,” he explained. “I shall see her to the house as penance.” He waited, not breathing for a moment, until Max gave his approval. Graeme would have allowed Max to carry Bea if Max had insisted, but he would not have been happy about relinquishing her. It felt good to have her here in his arms — very good, and, if he was honest, it felt as if this was the place where she belonged. Perhaps Shelton was correct. Perhaps he did need to win Bea’s heart — not to protect it from being broken, but to protect his from such a fate. Indeed, he could not imagine allowing another man — not his brother or even hers — rendering the service he was currently providing, for he could not countenance the idea of her in the arms of another ─ not now, not ever.

“I can walk,” Bea protested. “My ankle is only a little sore. If you allowed me to lean on your arm, I should be able to make it to the house without a problem.”

“And how are you going to lean on my arm when your hand is required to press a cloth to your wound?” he asked as he began toward the house.

“I could tie the cloth around my arm.”

He shook his head. “No, you must allow me to be the gallant knight.” He winked at her.

She sighed. “I feel foolish.”

“You should not,” he answered, tightening his hold on her to press her closer to him. “You have saved me from playing another game.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder. She could not deny that being carried by Graeme was more pleasant than hobbling to the house on a sore ankle. In fact, being carried by Graeme was actually quite enjoyable. “You could have allowed me to win. Then you would not have had to play another game.”

He chuckled. “I rarely allow anyone to win.”

She laughed at the truth of his words. Graeme played to win — nearly always. She could only think of a time or two that she knew of when he had allowed his mother to win a game of cards. “And you see where that gets you — either playing more of a game, which bores you, or carrying foolish females about the garden.”

“First,” he replied, “I do not find the game as dull as the company I was forced to keep while playing, yourself excluded, of course. And second, I do not carry foolish females — ever. Had a foolish female fallen, I would have very ungallantly begged someone else to carry her or sent for a footman.”

“Thank you. You always know what to say to make me feel better.” She smiled up at him from where she rested against his shoulder. “You should know that the only other people who can do that are Max and my father.”

He bowed his head in acceptance of her word. “I am honoured to be in such company.” He gave her a squeeze. “And just like them, I would do anything to protect you.”

Her head rubbed against his shoulder as she nodded. “I know,” she whispered as the truth of that statement settled into her heart.

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His Beautiful Bea is enrolled in Kindle Unlimited and, therefore, can only be purchased at Amazon.

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