Excerpt Monday: Take 11

It’s Excerpt Monday again!

Bria and Mel are at it again. Everyone wants to play along with Excerpt Monday! If you’d like to join in this meme, visit their Guidelines page for more details.

This month’s excerpt is drawn again from Beneath His Touch. James has agreed to accompany Tabitha on an outing to Astley’s Royal Amphitheatre with his cousins and the two young bucks he fears will be the ruin of his cousins.

As always, any comments or criticisms are welcome.

Climbing into the landau, James almost came to regret agreeing to this farce of an expedition. A quick glance told him the carriage’s other three occupants were eagerly looking forward to this afternoon’s outing. This had been arranged for their benefit, not his.

Well, he hoped it would benefit his cousins. And what would better profit them more than being rid of Estwicke and Swinburne for good?

“Are you certain you are committed to this venture?” Tabitha smoothed her skirts around her, making sure they didn’t crowd Henri who sat beside her.

James grunted as he settled into the seat beside Juliet and tried to keep his legs from tangling in Tabitha’s skirts. Their knees brushed and a jolt of awareness surged through him. A quick glance reassured him that Henri and Juliet sat chattering about the anticipated sights, oblivious to his discomfort.

His gaze swung back to Tabitha, who watched him with raised eyebrows, and he shifted in his seat. “I’m fine.”

“If you don’t feel up to it, you needn’t punish yourself by coming along.” Her expression shifted from query to worry. “Is it your head?”

“My head’s fine.”

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned toward him. “Your side then?”

“Leave it.” He immediately regretted snapping at her when she retreated against the squabs. He’d already spent four days cocooned in his bedchamber. Naturally, he didn’t wish to be wrapped in cotton any longer. Tangled bedding, now that was an idea in which he could invest much speculation.

“Should I faint, I shall be the first to allow you to tell me, ‘I told you so.'”

“Now, Bolster, I believe that is something I would enjoy.” She grinned back at him.

Tangled sheets, tangled limbs. Yes. Those would certainly be enjoyable.

“James. I say, did you not hear a word I’ve just said?” Juliet’s hand lay on his arm, pulling him out of his reverie.

James shifted again on the seat, taking care to fold his overcoat across his lap. The warm weather hadn’t warranted wearing it outside the house, but he was glad Tabitha had pestered him into bringing it along. “My apologies, Juliet. Please, ask again.”

“Do you think we will be able to see the Elgin marbles at the British Museum?” Her bright innocent eyes didn’t fool him for a second.

“And what would you know about the Elgin marbles, Juliet?”

“OUR_FRIEND claims they’re quite sensational. I wouldn’t want to see them. Who needs to look at naked bodies?” Henri stuck her tongue out at her sister and they both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

He pinned Tabitha with a glare. Naked bodies, indeed. “That’s not where we’re meeting Estwicke and Swinburne, is it?”

“Heavens, no. I don’t find the marbles unacceptable viewing, but I thought unnecessary titillation ill advised in light of today’s mixed company. I believe you desired a good impression of the your cousins within the ton.”

“A wise choice, Miss Gifford. Now if we could forgo the company.”

“Really, Bolster. Estwicke reminds me much of you and your friend Barrington.” She waited for a reaction, but he refused to dignify it with one. “Much younger, but I’m sure you weren’t quite so stuffy and dignified when you were that age.”

He snorted. No, Barrington and he hadn’t been the least stuffy or dignified, but it wouldn’t do to relate such tales to his cousins. “I never made such a spectacle of myself as Estwicke does.”

“I notice you don’t include Barrington in that denial.”

“Even you must admit he is a force unto himself.”

“Quite.” She chuckled and considered their destination.

It was amazing the compromises he was suddenly willing to make for this woman. First agreeing to meet with Estwicke and Swinburne and now this.

“Oh, James! It’s everything Miss Gifford promised it would be.” Henri bounced excited in her seat, while Juliet grinned in anticipation.

“Just think, Henri, in all the years we’ve been coming to London, Papa never once brought us here to Astley’s Royale Amphitheatre.”

Tabitha turned to him and smiled.

James clapped a hand to his forehead and immediately regretted it when his head answered with a dull ache. He was going to need a stiff brandy by the time he got home. Heaven knew what kind of wild ideas Henri would pick up here. His uncle had probably had the right of it in keeping the girls away from such spectacles.

James climbed down from the landau and handed each of the ladies down. All three ladies accompanying him stared in amazement at the building housing Astley’s. He caught whispered questions that focused on the perils of indoor horses and when Lord Estwicke and Mr. Swinburne were expected to join them.

As if the mention of their names had summoned them like the black-souled creatures they were, James found the scoundrels had been waiting patiently at his elbow.

“Fine day, Bolster. Fine day.” Estwicke nodded graciously in his direction.

“Indeed.” Perhaps, if he didn’t respond to their conversational openings, the day might turn out better than expected.

Estwicke ignored him. “We purchased six tickets. Shall we go find our seats? There’s not a bad one to be had in the house.”

As they entered the grand building, James offered an arm to each of his cousins. Tabitha coughed discreetly and looked meaningfully at the younger men until he relented and allowed them to escort his cousins.

Of course, that meant he must escort her and suffer the distractions that just the touch of her hand on his arm produced. He followed Estwicke through the expansive hallway and into the cavernous belly of the building.

An enormous chandelier sparkled above them, the illumination from the numerous patent lights reflecting and refracting in the glass. In center of the space, an equestrian circle, followed the curve the seats for the audience filled a full two thirds of the space. A curtained stage, complete with an orchestra pit, comprised the remaining third.

“Have you ever seen so many chandeliers in one place?” Tabitha whispered to him. He glanced around the room. Sixteen smaller fixtures with a half dozen wax-lights each ringed the main chandelier, but his gaze was once more drawn to the sparkle in her dark brown eyes.

“Never.” He could look into those dreamy eyes forever. Her expression demanded more than a single word answer, so he continued, “I find the effect quite ostentatious.”

“I see.” Her lips pursed. If he kissed them now, he’d find them stiff and not at all kissable. “I was hoping that you’d a least try to enjoy yourself.”

“It’s not easy. I suppose you won’t consent to seat Henri and Juliet between us for the performance.”

“I dare say you might find Estwicke and Swinburne raise some objections to that. Relax. Nothing untoward is going to happen here in public.”

“Here we are. I’ll go first so you don’t have to sit next to someone you don’t know, Lady Juliet.” Estwicke

Tabitha gestured for him to follow Estwicke and Juliet down the row. James reached his seat and slouched down in it. His side ached like the devil and his head was keeping time with the overly bright music being played by the orchestra.

He looked down the row past Tabitha to see Henri, followed by Swinburne, settle into the seats on the aisle. At least he wasn’t being forced to make small talk with the men. How this furthered Tabitha’s plans that he get to know them better, wasn’t clear, but he wasn’t about to object either.

The crowd quieted as a single horse and rider galloped into the pit. The rider circled endlessly while performing acrobatic stunts, sometimes standing, sometimes lying on the horse’s back and rump. The crowd held its collective breath when the rider dangled beneath the horse’s barrel, suspended by a rope looped around his ankle, his head hanging dangerously close to those pounding hooves.

James empathized with the man. He’s sure his held felt about the same, thankfully without the imminent threat of death.

The audience gasped as one as the man’s foot slipped from the loop, but James observed the rider was in complete control of his situation. The man had grabbed the iron with both hands and was pulling himself back up into the saddle.

Once he had regained his seat, the rider took a victory lap to thunderous applause. As he rode out of the circle, the orchestra struck up a lively tune, reminding James of a country dance.

Four pairs of horses, their riders dressed in evening attire, pranced into view. They formed two queues, the men on one side and the ladies on the other. Both lines of horses extended one front leg and bent the other beneath them. Fancy that, the beasts had bowed to one another.

The number continued in a uniquely elegant equestrian ballet. He’d heard tell of white horses in Vienna who were said to dance ballet, but had never seen such a spectacle before. Truly impressive.

The entertainments continued, each one more magnificent then the previous. Several comic plays were performed, an uncomfortably realistic battle complete with gunshots and explosions was pitched, even a horse race was run in the arena, but the piece James liked best was the foxhunt.

During the hunt, the illusion had been so masterful that when the huntsmen have given a hearty tally-ho the audience had lent its voices the cry. As the dogs closed in on the kill, James found himself on the edge of his seat, his hands curled over the edge. He shook his head ruefully when he realized he’d been rooting for the fox.

As much as the country dance had brought to mind the ballrooms of the ton, the foxhunt reminded James of just how precarious the situation with his cousins’ reputations was.

He had watched Henrietta lean forward, enraptured by the performance. Swinburne watched Henri, his expression devoid of the sharp lines usually drawing his visage into harsh contrasts. He certainly didn’t look like a villain as he sat captivated by Henri’s delight.

James watched with detached fascination as his knuckles whitened where his hands gripped the edge of his seat even tighter. Coyle had promised no lasting damage from his head wound. The old man was losing touch. James must be soft in the head to even consider Swinburne’s change in appearance pertinent to how that low snake actually felt about his cousin.

Some noise or movement must have betrayed his mood, because Tabitha’s hand settled on his sleeve. He met her searching look and forced himself to relax. He shrugged, hoping she’d accept his silence.

Out of the corner of his eye, a movement drew his attention. He stared across the venue at one of the stagehands doing the unenviable job of shoveling horse droppings from polite view. It wasn’t Finch, but the man who had turned and run rather than fight the night of the attack.

If you enjoyed this, you might enjoy some of my other Excerpt Monday offerings.

Links to other Excerpt Monday writers
Note: I have not personally screened the other excerpts. Please heed the ratings and be aware that the links may contain material that is not typical of my site.

So, to kick it off, our hostesses:

Bria Quinlan, Rom Com (PG13)

and

Alexia Reed, Urban Fantasy (R)

Joining them this week:

Stephanie Draven, Fantasy with Romantic Elements (PG 13)
Danie Ford, Contemporary YA (PG 13)
Babette James, Contemporary Romance (PG 13)
Cynthia Justlin, Thriller with Romantic Elements (PG 13)
Jeannie Lin, Contemporary Romantic Elements (PG 13)
R. F. Long, Fantasy Romance (PG13)
Shawntelle Madsion, Paranormal Romance (PG13)
Debbie Mumford, Science Fiction/ Fantasy (PG13)

Kendal Corbitt, Erotica Contemporary (R)
KB Alan, Erotic Paranormal Romance (R)
Cate Hart, YA Paranormal (R)
Jeanne St. James, Interracial Menage Erotic Romance (R)
Cherrie Lynn, Contemporary Erotic Romance (R)
Michelle Picard, Paranormal/Fantasy (R)
Mary Quast, Contemporary Romance (R)
Danielle Yockman, Historical Romance (R)

Sara Brookes, Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy (NC17)
Angeleque Ford, Contemporary, Interracial, Erotic Romance (NC 17)
Elise Logan, Contemporary Romance (NC17)