At our latest Sultry Scribes meeting, we wrote onto slips of paper, a noun, an adjective, and an emotion, then dropped those words into separate bowls. Each person then ‘lucky dipped’ to choose her own three words, all of which had to appear somewhere in her story.
The Honourable Emily Honeywood shivered as a cold breeze brushed the back of her neck. She turned up the collar of her brother’s greatcoat and continued to stare in through the lighted window. Inside she could see the man she watched relaxed before the warmth of a roaring fire, with what looked to be a brandy in one hand and a book in the other. Lucien, Marquess of Thornbury appeared to be the epitome of gentlemanly refinement. But Emily knew otherwise. She had been watching him for three nights now and tonight she knew what she had to do.
Cold seeped up her legs despite her sturdy boots, and her stomach rumbled. How unladylike. Aunt Prue would be shocked. But Emily was hungry having had to skip dinner and plead a headache so that she would not be missed. But then Aunt Prue would be beyond shocked, she would be positively manic if she could see Emily now, standing in the shadows, dressed in her brother’s clothes, watching a gentleman.
As she continued to stare into the light she saw his lordship lay aside his book and stand. Emily’s hand shook as it closed about the gun in her pocket. The time was now.