Critique_This_WIP

Welcome to the next installment of Tuesday Tag – a serialized story wrote each week by someone new. Last week Courtney tagged me to write the next scene. If you’d like to get in on the fun it’s real simple to do so. All you have to do is know the rules (listed below) and inform us that you’re interested.

So, these are the rules of the game:

1. Read the previous Tuesday Tag Posts so you know what the story's about.

2. Write your scene - suggested word count is somewhere around 500 words.

3. Make sure your scene doesn't contain anything offensive and that it continues on in a sensible way from the previous post.*

4. If you're tagged (and we will make sure you're ok with it beforehand), you must write the scene in time for the Tuesday Tag Post - that means you'll have a week, no more, no less.

5. Tell us a little about yourself so we can do the introductory post right here, on Critique This WIP.

6. Have fun!

*we reserve the right to de-tag you if your scene is unacceptable.
**Note: This piece is not historically accurate. Instead, it is a prime example of Creative License.**

Here we go:

Jocelyn’s eyes flashed to Colin and he gave her a slow wink before he sauntered across the room to the dresser and poured water from the porcelain pitcher into the wash bowl. She perused his backside from the top of his Y-back suspenders down the fitted white flatiron shirt tucked firm into the navy striped trousers and she admired the strong curve of his buttocks.

“What a good girl you are, fulfilling your mother’s dreams of elevating her station.” He dropped a wash cloth into the basin and poured water into a tumbler, then tore a small packet and emptied white powder into the drink. “It’s a shame, though, that you’re afraid to think for yourself.”

“Don’t start, Colin.” Jocelyn sighed and leaned back against the pillow, an arm thrown over her eyes. “I am not in the mood to listen to your American lesson on independence and freedom of choice.”

“Ah, but this is a perfect time.” Colin stirred the water with his finger and sat down on the bed beside her. “Here, drink this. It will chase that hangover away within minutes.”

Jocelyn dropped her arm to her side and raised an eyebrow. “And you just happen to carry a hangover remedy in your trouser pocket?”

Lines crinkled the sides of Colin’s eyes as he smiled. “I do when I hear my best friend missed her wedding party due to an empty decanter of whiskey.”

With another long sigh, Jocelyn said, “I knew the walls had ears but how word reached the stables is troubling. I assume it was the stable boy who filled you in on my drunkenness?”

“Oh I have spies everywhere, my dear. Your secrets are never safe with me nearby.” He rubbed his hand up and down Jocelyn’s arm before taking the empty glass and setting it on the bed stand. “Your duke had a case of the jitters.”

Jocelyn tried to ignore the flitter of awareness that pulsed through her body. “He had the guts to do what I couldn’t.” She shook her head, resigned. “I know you think I’m weak Colin. But you don’t understand. You’re just a renegade who thinks nothing of nobility. But this is how I was raised. It’s important to me.”

“It’s important to your mother.” Colin left the bed and strode across the room. He took the wash cloth from the basin and wrung it out and returned to her, his touch gentle as he laid the cool cloth against her forehead. “Damn your bloody English nobility.”

“You don’t understand – “

“I’m a bastard of the Duke of Devonshire, Jocelyn . Of course I understand.” A trace of bitterness colored his tone.

“A rich bastard and you don’t give a damn about that. Or so you always tell me.” Jocelyn raised a brow at Colin. It certainly sounded as if he gave a damn now. “Mother and I are noble, yes. But we’ve barely a penny to our name after Father emptied our coffers. I need to marry, Colin, as much as I wish I didn’t.”

“And your knight in shining armor is riding in to save you. Your prince.” Colin leaned close and removed the washcloth from her forehead, replacing it with his lips. “And what will your prince say when he finds out you’ve already given yourself to a commoner?”

A loud knock sounded at the door. “Miss Whitley, we have your bath, Miss.”

“Just a minute.” Joselyn called, and then narrowed her eyes at Colin. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh wouldn’t I?” He had a devilish glint in his eyes.

The maids knocked again, louder this time.

“Get out, Colin Davis.” She put as much anger in her voice as she could muster. “I never want to see you again.”

The look in his eyes told her he knew she didn’t mean it and he took his time crossing the room.

At the open window, he said, “Enjoy your prince, m’lady.” He gave a roguish smile and disappeared, onto the ledge and down to the grass below, no doubt.