This week, I’m sharing an excerpt from my work in progress, The Radical Heiress. This is the fourth and final book in my Men of Trade series and it has been my problem-child manuscript. I’ve re-written it several times, but last week I finally finished what I hope is the final re-write.
I’ve never taken so long to finish a draft before (I wrote the first version in 2022). I still have a long way to go, but I hope you enjoy this little excerpt (remember, it’s a work in progress and far from perfect).
A Bit of Background
The main characters, Emily Reed and Tom Burton met in the previous book in the series. Emily and Tom took an instant dislike to each other. In this scene, they bump into each other in a backstreet bookshop.
Excerpt from The Radical Heiress
Miss Reed flinched and spun, and the book fell to the floor. “It is incredibly rude of you not to announce your presence, Mr. Burton.”
Tom withheld a smile as Miss Reed pulled back her shoulders. “Forgive me, but you appeared so engrossed in your book that I had to discover what held your attention.”
He crouched.
“Just… leave it!” Miss Reed’s sharp tone only fueled his intrigue.
He picked up the book and stood, closing the volume and inspecting the spine. His throat tightened before he read aloud. “Harris’s List of Covent Garden Ladies.” He swallowed before he continued. “Why would you be interested in the salacious book that lists the capital’s prostitutes and the services they provide?”
She snatched the book from his hand. “That is none of your business.”
“By the way, I believe they stopped printing the list thirty years ago so the information will be out of date.” He tamped down the urge to chuckle while she fumbled to replace the book on the shelf. However, he could not resist teasing her about her choice of reading material. “You continue to delight and surprise me every time we meet, Miss Reed.”
She snorted. “We both know that we dislike each other in equal measure.” Once the book was safely returned, she faced him and raised her chin. “I had hoped we would see less of each other now our mutual friends are in Dorset, yet we meet again.”
“Indeed, and I am once again intrigued by your choice of reading material, if a little disappointed that you have yet to take my advice and try something by Keats.”
“As you are aware, I am not fond of poetry.” Her chin dropped to her chest.
“Yet you wish to read about the services offered by the sex trade.” He should not ask, but he burned with curiosity. “Do you intend to make use of them?”
It was difficult to make out in the dark aisle of the bookshop, but was that a hint a pink on her cheeks?
He had gone too far. “I apologize. It is not a suitable topic for discussion between us.”
Her head shot up. “I am a modern woman, Mr. Burton, and can discuss any topic, even those deemed unsuitable for my sex.”
“I expected nothing less of you, Miss Reed.” He offered her his widest smile, the one that usually had women batting their lashes at him.
Miss Reed scowled. “The sex trade is like any other. It is a matter of supply and demand. While I wish there was no need for women to sell themselves, many are robbed of alternatives. I will not judge someone for doing what they must to survive, yet I hope my work will one day offer women more choices.”
“I support your dedication to your cause, but that does not answer my question.” For some reason, he longed to know the answer.
Instead, she clasped her hands together and asked, “I thought you were helping the parliamentary committee investigate the current financial crisis. Should you not be in Westminster at this time?”
His heart sank at her abrupt change of topic. “We have taken a recess.” She brushed past him and headed towards the shop entrance.
He followed. “I have been in meetings all morning discussing the country’s economic situation and I have a meeting at my family’s bank within the hour.” You do not need to justify your actions to her. Indeed, so why had he?
“It is nice to know that you are not wasting time while people are going hungry after the poor harvest and resulting food shortages,” she said over her shoulder.
He bristled at her censure. “I am aware of the current suffering of the poorest in society, which is why I work almost every hour to resolve it.”
She headed towards her burly footman by the door and spun on her heel. “Then I must not keep you from your business. Good day, Mr. Burton.” She nodded before she left the shop with her barrel-chested footman in her wake.
Tom stared at the closed door. What had happened? Most females clamored for his attention, yet mousy Miss Reed had dismissed him. With a shake of his head and a self-deprecating chuckle, he headed to the darkened shelves of the poetry section. The endless hours of meetings to save the economy must be addling his brain. He cared for Miss Reed’s good opinion as much as she cared for his.
Read More…
If you enjoyed this, take a look as some excerpts from my other work:
