‘Determined, strong, good; a woman of indomitable spirit.’
What a great description.
Wait, wait, wait; woah, woah woah! I think…I THINK I may have gotten that wrong. Yes, in fact, I’m sure. You see, when I write (which is whenever I get the chance), I tend to write my heroines as the women I want to be rather than the woman I am 😉
Lettice Burton, or as most people know her in The Widow’s Redeemer, Letty Burton, is no exception to my usual writing of heroines. Today, I’d like you to meet my heroine in another extract from my debut novel. Here she is in a party visiting a cathedral and at this point in the story, she finds herself alone and in conversation with the sullen Viscount Beauford:
‘ “And what do you see, O widow?” His words tried her calm.
“A building.” She wandered on. He walked behind her slowly, now examining her rather than the battered vegetation.
“Yes, a building it is, made grand by its architecture.”
“Not just that surely?” She halted and turned her large brown eyes upon him. “Does the fact it has housed worshippers for the past five hundred and fifty years hold no weight?”
“For that long? I had not read the history. I am surprised you have—you must have had a very thorough governess.”
“No, my lord.” She tensed for a moment at the allusion to her childhood and her own admittance. Then quite suddenly she smiled with confidence. “But the age of the cathedral is quite clear to any fool.”
“Yes, of course.” His face broke into what almost constituted a smile; the firm mouth took on a crooked angle and his eyes lighted with amusement.
She had diverted his attention from her personal life once again, but something in those dark eyes disquieted her. She decided to go along with whatever game he was playing.
“You’re laughing at me? Perhaps you think me a bluestocking, and yet, I think you miss the point of such a building.” She turned and walked away again, leaving him to follow.
“It is only a church.” He was once again level with her.
“No, it isn’t.” This time the smile was to lace her lips.
His brows furrowed and he stopped their gradual walk to look upon her properly. She seemed to speak the truth, or at least what she believed to be true.
“It is a church.” His voice was quite firm, the sort of tone that suggested it had been obeyed hundreds of times before.
“The people make up the church, my lord, not the bricks and mortar.” Her father had said that often, and it sprang unbidden to her lips. “Do you not find that even more interesting than the building itself—the thought of all the people throughout the centuries who sat here, prayed here, suffered here, hoped here?”
“I can well imagine how they would have suffered kneeling on such hard stone. And as for their hopes, I doubt that many of them were ever fulfilled.” His voice was as bitter as a mouthful of seawater. “Hope makes beggars of us all. And that—to use your words—is quite clear to any fool.”
“But, my lord!” Her eyes locked firmly on his. “There is always hope.” She said it because she could not help herself. She said it because it was true.’
Oh! What a woman, eh? I hope you enjoyed this extract and be sure to read my blog next week for the next extract!
Less than a month to go until the launch! And remember to enter my books giveaway either on this link http://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/33748-the-widow-s-redeemer or by clicking the image: