The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 8

Dante decided to walk home and sent his carriage ahead of him. The young Miss Radford consumed his thoughts, and he wanted time to think about them. He found walking frequently cleared his head enough to deal with his servants and with life in general.

Despite his confusion and the set downs she gave him, he still found Miss Radford to be intriguing. Her sister must have spoken harshly to the young lady to tame the shrew into such heartfelt repentance. But there was that “sir” again that had him questioning if the tears were real.

Was it a deliberate slight? he wondered.

Like most people in town, he knew about the history of the Radfords. Lady Radford had been born the only child of the Baron Monteagle, Lord Parker, a former investor and leader in the British East India Company. At three years old, her mother died, and her father had sent her home to England to live with an aunt despite the danger of the voyage for one so young. Baron Monteagle had arranged a marriage for his daughter when she was sixteen, but she had balked at the arrangement and had fled to Gretna Green to marry Sir Radford, who was below her station. Not surprisingly, her father had disinherited her, leaving her to rely upon Sir Radford’s small wealth. After giving birth to four daughters, Sir Radford had passed away from illness several years ago with only two of his daughters comfortably married. Unfortunately, his estate had been entailed. Lady Duval, then known as Miss Radford, had married a dying man to secure a home for herself, her mother, and her youngest sister. After being widowed, she had fallen in love with Lord Duval.

Although their family had been wrought with unfortunate happenings, there was no reason to assume that the young Miss Radford had been so ill-bred as to deliberately misuse titles. He quickly concluded that her fire and passion must be the result of her youth or her inexperience. Once he convinced himself that was the case, he developed the opinion that the interesting side of her personality would soon turn into a simpering miss like the rest of the women on the marriage market. That thought disappointed him as he climbed the steps of his townhouse.

He paused for a minute before entering his London home. He questioned himself: Was he interested in her romantically? It only took him a second to push the idea aside. He needed a far tidier and self-controlled wife. He planned to find one in three years. He was still far too young to be burdened with that aspect of life. He also enjoyed some simpering, and social etiquette was of the utmost importance in his position. If he thought women were foolish when they discovered his title, he could only imagine how much more unpleasant marriage would be with one of them. He had many reasons to put off that institution.

Shaking his head, he walked into his townhouse.

His heart skipped a beat at the faint hope that Miss Radford might accept him for who he was, even after she learned his title, and remain true to her causes. The thought of having an authentic friend after all these years was an exciting one that he quickly rejected. He had often been disappointed in that department, and he definitely would not get his hopes up after only spending a few, tense minutes with the woman. Tomorrow evening, when he danced with her, he would be able to tell easily enough if she were shopping for titles.

He said a quick prayer and decided to leave it in the Lord’s hands. He had been praying a long time for a close male friend, but if the Lord preferred, he would settle for a temporary female one just to have the experience. Although he tried not to get his hopes up, he found himself looking forward to going to an assembly for the first time in his life.

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The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 7

 “It seems as if we finished our conversation just in time,” Emily whispered, as men’s voices arose to meet them on the first landing of the turning stairway.

When Beatrice released the wrought iron balustrade and stepped onto the entry hall floor, she steeled herself for her mission. Marcus and the man stood before her, saying their parting words, but both stopped and turned upon the ladies’ entrance from the stair.

“I’m sorry—” Beatrice began, but the words caught in her throat.

For some reason, she had not truly looked at the man when she had argued with him earlier. Standing merely an arm’s length away with the bright light of midmorning hitting his face through the glass that framed the home’s front door, she realized with mortification that he was much younger and more attractive than she had first thought. His features were almost perfectly formed with a solid, straight nose. His hair was pitch black without the sunlight streaks she had mistaken for gray. His smooth, strong jawbone was clean-shaven and looked as if it were carved from rock. His teal and black coat fit across his muscular chest perfectly, and his black breeches revealed trim legs. Clearly, whoever Marcus was entertaining enjoyed sport and was fit enough to pursue it. With the insults she had tossed his way, it was no wonder he reacted defensively.

Suddenly ashamed, she quickly averted her eyes and struggled to fight back tears. She wondered if she would ever learn to control her temper. She had been so angry at what she had witnessed this morning that instead of trying to find a champion for her cause, she lashed out at a stranger as if he were the reason for the calamity. As the blush climbed across her cheeks, she forced out the rest of the apology she now knew he deserved.

“It was wrong of me to speak to you so. Please forgive me,” she choked.

Her eyes flitted up to his and were immediately captured by their powerful, golden hazel. One corner of his mouth turned upward in an attractive half smile. “I must say that I am flattered. I don’t think I have ever received such a sincere apology. Of course, I accept it, Miss—?”

“—Radford. Beatrice Radford,” Beatrice blinked and held out her hand.

When he took it, her stomach flipped inside her. She watched as he slowly raised it and pressed it against his lips. He stared deeply into her eyes, and for a moment, she felt as if he could see the depths of her soul. Her breathing quickened, and her heart pounded against her corset.

“Will you be at the assembly tomorrow night?” Marcus’ voice interrupted their connection. The gentleman dropped her hand, and Beatrice immediately returned her eyes to the intricately designed rug on the floor.

“Yes, I was planning on attending.”

“This will be the first one for Beatrice. Would you be so kind as to dance with her once? I am afraid she has few acquaintances in London.”

“Of course, I would be honored,” the man smiled and bowed slightly.

Beatrice’s face flamed as she scowled at her brother-in-law. She had little intention of dancing at the assembly with anyone—a fact that Marcus should know. As she opened her mouth, her sister’s elbow landed firmly in her side.

She closed her eyes, thankful for the protective boning of her corset that had felt suffocating to her moments earlier. Focusing, she remembered this gentleman had not made the arrangement, but was merely being polite about it. She forced a smile and returned her eyes to the man’s perfectly tied cravat. She willed herself to be nice for Emily’s sake—and for Marcus’. “I-I would love that, sir.”

Marcus gasped, “Beatrice, do you not know—”

“Well, until tomorrow, then,” the man said brusquely, no longer smiling. She watched as he carefully placed his hat on his head and walked out the door. She was left wondering if perhaps he did not want to dance with her at all. For some reason, this thought bothered her despite her dislike of such an unproductive pastime.

She shifted her gaze from the closed door to a horrified Marcus. “Beatrice! You can’t talk to him like that. He is—”

“—Be-a-trice! Child, you don’t even look as if you have begun to get ready for supper.” Lady Radford, her mother, interrupted from the stair landing. “Why are you standing in the entryway, staring at the door like a ninny? Come upstairs to your room immediately, or we shall have to hold the meal!”

Trying to set the odd encounter aside, she hurried up the stairway. Her emotions were swirling inside her. One minute, the man seemed kind, almost playful, but the next, he was like a tempest—wild and unpredictable. It was true that aside from Marcus, this man was the first male she had met who was not old enough to be her father. Still, she had always thought males would be easier to understand. Her mother seemed to think they were.

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The Inconvenient Sister Is Published!

 The Inconvenient Sister is now available on  Amazon: (hardcover is $12.99; large print is $10.99; paperback is $8.99; Kindle version is $2.99). 

The audible version is still in production at this time, as is the re-release of the first book in the series, The Inconvenient Widow. 

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The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 6

 Beatrice thought about what her sister had said as she peered past the bed-canopy roof at the circle in the center of her ceiling that framed a painting of Samuel anointing David as king of Israel. Emily was not her oldest sister, but she always saw the more practical side of things. Even before Emily had married Lord Duval, she had a natural sense of poise under pressure. Beatrice hated the current situation in which the poor people of London resided, but she realized the wisdom of her sister’s advice.

Beatrice knew her problem was that she could never control herself when any situation escalated. Her temper was her biggest flaw. She was well aware that the only way to be the voice of the lower classes was to be a part of society. How else would she teach the upper classes about the commoners’ suffering?

After a quick prayer asking for help with her temper, she sighed. “I guess I did go about my plea rather shabbily. But Emily, babies are lying dead in the street!”

Emily rested a hand on her shoulder. “Honey gets more flies to it than vinegar. If you shout at and insult our guests, you will close the door on your chances of marrying. If you don’t make such a cake of yourself, you could find a husband who supports your efforts and has a seat in Parliament.”

“But I don’t want a husband!” Beatrice fumed. She wished finding a spouse were not such a tradition among young ladies. Her trip to London to be placed on the marriage mart had not been her idea. Between her mother and Emily, she could not decide who was acting worse about it.

“A single woman has little social sway. Consider how much better you could further your cause if you had a man to defend it with you. Why would you want to limit your ability to make changes? You’ve only been in town a few days. You haven’t even begun to explore all the wonderful parties and social events. Take your time, and enjoy your chance to find a perfect helper. You don’t have to choose someone this year, but don’t secure your heart against those men you have not yet met. Believe me, the Good Lord has someone planned for you, and I am praying hard you will meet him.”

“Or, perhaps, the Good Lord prefers for me to be an old maid,” Beatrice countered.

“If you keep on like you did today, there will be no question of that. Although I don’t think the Lord would be pleased about it if He presented you with the perfect husband and you shouted the poor man away.”

“I highly doubt the Lord wants me to marry an old baron. He evidently didn’t have such narrow plans for you. However, I suppose I did let my anger get the best of me today.”

“You forget that it was in the Lord’s plan that I first marry a dying baron before I could have a living Earl. Now, you need to make your apologies. Hopefully, all will be forgotten with only a simple act of retribution. I know Marcus needed this vote in Parliament for the project on which he is working.”

“But that man should apologize to me, too! You should have heard—”

“—What I have heard is enough!” Emily interrupted firmly. “I know you. I know that you probably took something he said out of context and went off on a rant without listening to him. I know you must learn to control your temper. That is your greatest flaw. Now, you need to come with me and apologize, if it isn’t already too late.” Emily arose and walked toward the door. “And, Beatrice?”

“Yes?”

“You need to make this a heartfelt apology. I don’t know all the details, but I do know this meeting was important to Marcus. After all my husband has done for me—for us—you should at least take his feelings into consideration.”

“I will,” Beatrice murmured as she followed Emily out of the room. She could already tell this was going to be a very long London season. She wanted nothing more than to make a difference here in the city, but being hindered by social events and apologies would not help her cause.

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The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 5

 Beatrice had never been so angry before in her life. She was so upset with the man in Marcus’ library that Emily was able to pull her through the hallway, up the two flights of stairs, and into her room before she could slow down her thoughts enough to talk. She flounced on her white, French-styled bed with its white satin tufted headboard framed in teal damask curtains. As she sank into the downy mattress with her skirts flaring around her, she flung herself backward next to her teal-colored, satin pillows. Then she released all her pent-up anger in a roar of frustration.

“That man is the most infuriating, ignorant—”

“—Beatrice!” the breath hissed through Emily’s teeth, pulling Beatrice out of her tirade. “Since father died, I have focused my entire life on giving you a chance to achieve your dreams. However, you are doing everything you can to ruin any hope you could have of marrying a suitable husband.”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Marriage is not one of my dreams. My dream is to be a journalist and fight social injustice. Talking to members of Parliament is just a first step along that path.”

“Talking?” Emily’s eyebrow shot upward. “Actually, you were shouting so loudly that I am sure every servant in our house and the next heard you. I interrupted your tirade because I feared you would wake baby Pamela. Oh, Beatrice!” Emily groaned and walked over to collapse on the white satin settee with a teal-fern, embroidered design. “You have no idea how London society works. If you cannot learn to get along in it, you will find yourself sifted to the bottom.”

Beatrice frowned. “Since Parliament is full of old, fusty men and their old, fusty ideas, it should be expected that I will disagree with them occasionally. I don’t care about ‘London society,’ so there is no need for me to attempt to join it. Being at the bottom will only bring me closer to the poor, who are the only people for whom I care.”

“And can any of those poor people address Parliament or a member of it? Could a street urchin walk up to the King and say, ‘Excuse me, Your Highness, but life is a little hard. I have some great ideas to change it.’ No. He could not approach the King or Parliament because of his low status.

“If you allow yourself to become shunned by society, you will never make a difference in this world. The people to whom you must encourage to change things will not give you the opportunity to speak with them. Do you want that?”

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The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 4

 Beatrice’s face turned bright red, and he could almost feel the sparks in her sapphire eyes strike out at him. Dante was sure Lord Duval’s mouth hung open. Acutely aware of his position in society, he normally kept his tongue in check, but something about this woman agitated him to the point he could not contain the set down. At that moment, the door to the library burst open, rattling some books on the shelves as another woman burst into the room.

“Beatrice!” she cried, exasperated.

Dante’s eyes continued to war with Beatrice’s as they both disregarded the interruption. Although not a word had been said by either of them for half a minute, his breathing was still quick as if he had just finished racing his bays. The words between them were bitter, but for some reason Dante could not prevent himself from focusing on her rosy, pouting lips.

“What are you doing?!” The feminine voice continued to scold in the background.

Lord Duval’s new wife appeared beside Beatrice, causing Dante to break contact with the young lady out of politeness toward her older sister.

“Oh, my! Please forgive my sister—” Lady Berkshire gave a curtsy and clamped her hand onto the girl’s wrist in one smooth gesture.

Dante raised his hand and stopped her apology. “Think nothing of it. We were all young once,” he shot at the younger sister. “It has not been so long for me that I have forgotten my own childhood follies.” He allowed himself one final look at the stormy girl and then dismissed her. He could not remember any time in his life when so much chaos had happened around him in such a short time. Returning to Lord Duval, he said, “Before we were so rudely interrupted, I believe we were discussing the gin laws, and you were explaining where you came up with your ingenious idea.”

Lord Duval, being a man of good breeding, looked as if his ship were sunk, but he did his best to save the situation.

Dante did not watch as Lady Berkshire pulled her sister out of the room, but he could feel Beatrice’s eyes on him until the door closed with a quiet click. Inside, he felt unsettled. Half of him longed for her to come back and enliven the conversation again. The other, more sensible half chided his folly.

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The Inconvenient Sister Chapter 1 Part 3

 “Workhouses!?!” the young woman’s voice raised a notch as she turned and focused her ire upon him. “How can you call those factories of death an option? Have you ever been to one? Have you ever worked for those slave masters running them?”

With a smirk, Dante replied, “Have you?” At this, he allowed his eyes to travel down the spotless mauve dress that was of the latest fashion with its over-wide sleeves and lace trim. It parted on top to reveal a light pink floral bodice, came together at the girl’s waist, and then parted again, revealing her deep green petticoat. “You don’t look as if you have visited one today. And although your manners suggest otherwise, I would guess that you have never in your life traveled to the areas of London that house them.”

Beatrice gasped and took a step toward him. “How dare you! I am sure that, despite the fact I am probably young enough to be your daughter, I have visited more of the sections of London in need of Parliament’s help than you.”

Dante’s eyes grew wide. The way this termagant said it, one would think he already had a foot in the grave.

“Beatrice! Shame on you!” Lord Duval stood and slammed his right hand down on the large oaken desk next to him, nearly toppling the globe.

Again, this slip of a girl seemed to best Dante. He longed for a mirror to examine his face for wrinkles but knew that was out of the question. He also would not have a lower peer defending him. He could fight his own battles.

“Well, if that is the case, miss,” he began with slitted eyes, “I must beg your apology. I took you to be a woman old enough to be out. However, if you were, as you say, young enough to be my child, it would mean you are still in the schoolroom. I am surprised your nursemaid would allow an eight-year old to go wandering around the house, interrupting important meetings. In that case, however, I admit that I was in the wrong. As a mature adult, I should have kept my thoughts to myself. After all, it is impossible to argue with children.”

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