Excerpt From My Novella, “And If You Wrong Us”

Mr. Raven was reaching for a glass of wine when Mr. Gray came up from behind and clapped him on the shoulder. There was a crash and a deep red stain began its way down the white linen covering the table. Mr. Raven fumbled for his handkerchief.

         “Don’t bother, don’t bother,” Mr. Gray chuckled. “The maids will get it. Listen, Cirius, you’ve made quite a stir tonight.”

         “Have I?”

         “Don’t play coy, ol’ boy. I’ve seen you and that redheaded vixen traipsing across the floor, all eyes and smiles. You don’t miss a step, do you?”

         “I don’t know what you mean.” Heat rushed into Mr. Raven’s face, flushing his cheeks. 

         “You’ve no reason to lie to me, Cirius. I won’t tell the wife.” He gave Mr. Raven a devious wink.

         A single drop of sweat traveled down the side of Mr. Raven’s brow. “What I meant,” he began stiffly, “was that there is nothing to tell. I tried to enjoy myself at this party you insisted I come to. You know I’m not one for idle chatter, so I thought dancing was the better option.”

         “Yes, but dancing with the most coveted girl in the whole room? Was that a requirement for you to enjoy yourself?”

         “No! Of course not! But she was toying with me — “

         “Do you know who she is, Cirius?”

         “No, why would I?”

         Mr. Gray shook his head and sighed. “Cirius, you really should. She is the daughter of the Pemberly family.”

         Mr. Raven’s eyes widened. “Pemberly? The Pemberly…?”

         “Yes, the Pemberly, as in Mayor Pemberly. And if I’m not mistaken, Mayor Pemberly was watching quite closely as you danced with his daughter. His only daughter.”

         Mr. Raven looked across the way to where she was standing with the mayor. Her father was staring at him with a deeply embedded scowl. He turned away quickly. 

         “His wife died shortly after childbirth. Mayor Pemberly is going to keep the lock and key on that one until the last possible moment. You can be sure of that.”

         Mr. Raven sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as pressure began building behind his eyes. “Why are we even having this discussion? It was a dance, nothing more.”

         Mr. Gray snorted. “I’d like to believe you, I would, but I saw something deep, between your eyes and hers. And there; you still have it.”

         “Have what?” 

         “That look. That undeniable look.” Mr. Gray sighed again and put his hand on Mr. Raven’s shoulder. “Consider this a pleasant diversion for the night…but when the night ends, so does this…whatever this is. After all, we’re too old to keep pace with these budding youths.” He took another glass of wine and walked away, leaving Mr. Raven with his thoughts.         

“Too old.” He pulled at his cravat irritably. “I wouldn’t consider thirty years too old…”