Love/Hate Excerpt from “Leap of Hope”

I hope you had a lovely Valentine’s Day, finding some appropriate way to celebrate, even in these difficult times. I’m thinking that as long as there was chocolate and a good book or movie involved, it was a winner. If your sweetheart was snuggled up beside you too, so much the better!

This month, some of us are featuring Love/Hate relationships in our posts – think Lizzy and Darcy’s or a similar dynamic. So I thought I’d share an excerpt from Leap of Hope, which contains one such couple.

Hope is a modern girl whose dream of an Austen-style life is unexpectedly granted. Travelling back in time to Regency England, she picks up Kathleen Barrett’s life (where Kathleen left it off after a riding accident), along with many of Kathleen’s memories. One of those memories is of being powerfully offended by Mr. Cavanaugh (gentleman and physician) at an ball, very Lizzy/Darcy like. So when she meets him again, as he attends her injuries, she is fully determined to detest him for all eternity. But she discovers that’s difficult to do while staring into his eyes at very close range.

Here’s an early scene, told from Hope/Kathleen’s perspective (picking up just after her first encounter with a chamber pot):

…With the most urgent feat accomplished, I had no sooner gotten myself sat back into bed when Mr. Cavanaugh arrived. After what Lucy had told me and what I had ‘remembered,’ I was anxious to get another look at him, to have a chance to observe and evaluate him more thoroughly. Of course, he was there to evaluate me, that is, my health, but I could tell at once he had not forgotten the incident at the assembly or his pompous attitude either.

“Good morning, Miss Barrett,” he said to me after Mama let him in. “And how are we feeling today?”

We? Was he kidding? Or was his use of the royal ‘we’ another sign of his presumed superiority? Being a gentleman wasn’t good enough for him? He had skipped right over nobility to imagine himself a prince or something equally grand. That sort of arrogance really rubbed me the wrong way. I wanted to zing him, but what I actually said wasn’t all that clever.

“I don’t know about you, Mr. Cavanaugh, but I am feeling much better than yesterday, thank you very much.”

Although I suspect he noticed my sarcasm, he maintained his business-like expression. “Excellent. Not too much pain in your head or… or otherwise, then?” he said, making a vague gesture to regions somewhat lower.

“No, sir. My head is improving and my otherwise is none of your business.”

“Kathleen!” interrupted Mama. “Remember your manners. There is no need for impertinence, I am sure.”

Mr. Cavanaugh gave a nod of acknowledgement to Mama and then returned his attention to me. “Perhaps you find my inquiries indelicate, Miss Barrett. I am a qualified physician, however, and you did fall rather violently on your…”

I watched him struggling for the right word again. I could think of so many options – butt, heinie, derriere, posterior, backside, gluteus maximus, caboose – and no one would have batted an eye at saying or hearing any one of them (or worse) where I’d come from. But this was a more genteel society requiring more genteel language – one of the reasons I admired it so much, I reminded myself. So I also had to admire Mr. Cavanaugh’s restraint, I supposed.

“You are quite right, of course,” I said, “but I believe no lasting damage has been done there either.”

“Very good. I am pleased to hear it. Have you been up yet this morning?”

“Yes, I needed to…” Now I was the one unable to finish my sentence, but apparently he caught my drift.

“Of course. And that went… went well? No difficulties in any respect?”

“Only a little throbbing in my temples when I moved about, but less than yesterday.”

“It appears that your recovery is progressing as well as we… as well as I could expect. I just have one or two more things, and then I will leave you in peace. Could you turn toward the light, please, Miss Barrett?”

He came around to the window side of my bed and tipped my chin up so that we were looking straight into each other’s eyes. I probably should have questioned what he meant by being so forward. Wouldn’t it have been more proper to ask permission or at least give me fair warning before touching me? Although I admit what I actually wondered at the time was if his hands were always so warm and if he found my eyes as “fine” as Mr. Darcy had thought Lizzy’s. I couldn’t help noticing that his were an unusual heathery green, like the subtle tapestry of different shades you might see deep in a forest – ferns and moss all woven together. I don’t think I’d ever seen eyes quite like that before.

It’s lucky he spoke up right then, before I completely lost my grip on reality and forgot who he was.

“Mrs. Barrett, would you be so good as to assist me?” he asked without looking away from me. “At my word, will you quickly draw back the draperies, please? And Miss Barrett, continue to look straight ahead with eyes wide open, if you would.”

While Mama got into place, he leaned in even closer until I could feel his breath on my face. I believe I was holding mine.

“Ready?” he said. “Now.”

Mama did as instructed, throwing back the curtains with a dramatic swoosh. Bright sunlight suddenly flooded the room and my eyes. For a few seconds, Mr. Cavanaugh held his position only inches from me, still gazing at me and supporting my chin with his hand. Then he abruptly let go and pulled away, all business again.

“I am done here, Miss Barrett. I needed to confirm that your pupils reacted properly to the change in brightness. That required the close contact. I am sorry if it has discomforted you in any way.”

Was he speaking for himself or for me? He looked uncomfortable enough. And I was too. Still, I didn’t want him to know it. I needed a sharp comeback so he would see I was unaffected – something witty and possibly cutting, to put him in his place.

“I…uh… Not at all.”

Well that was brilliant.

Lizzy never seemed to have this problem. In fact, she considered her dislike of Mr. Darcy a big help, inspiring all kinds of clever remarks. The situation reminded me of a line in Pride and Prejudice that goes something like this:

One can continually be abusive without saying anything just, but one cannot always be laughing at a man without occasionally stumbling across something witty.

That could be my new strategy. I wouldn’t abuse Mr. Cavanaugh, at least not to his face; I would laugh at him instead. Maybe then I would eventually stumble across something witty to say.

“What do you think of Mr. Cavanaugh, Mama?” I asked when he had gone. “I cannot quite make him out.”

“A fine gentleman, to be sure, even if perhaps he is a little proud. And I do not understand this business of taking up a profession when there is no need. He is the eldest son, you know. Or was it the only? I forget, but they say he will inherit a very pretty property in Derbyshire when his father dies…”

Derbyshire! My heart did an involuntary back flip at the word, and my head instantly conjured up images of Pemberley.

“…although the father is reportedly in very robust health at the moment. Too bad. Still, I daresay it would be well worth the wait to be mistress of such a fine estate. One thing is certain; Mr. Cavanaugh would make an excellent catch for you or for any of your sisters. So I will give you this little hint, Kate. Mind your tongue when he is about. Sharpen that troublesome instrument on somebody else if you must, but not on a man of his consequence. You know I never criticize, but it is a mother’s responsibility to improve her children’s characters if she can.”

“What of his character, Mama? Is that of no account? It seems that if a man is wealthy enough he may have as many faults as he likes without suffering anybody’s censure. But I would not want to be married to such a man. All his wealth and consequence could never make up for bad behavior and disposition.” (I was really getting the hang of this Regency language!)

“And a good disposition will never make up for being poor.” Mama reminded me. “Mark my words. You must marry, Kate, and with some eye to fortune. With your father’s estate subject to entailment, you cannot afford to do otherwise. As your mother, it is my duty to make you understand that much. Therefore, you should at least try to like Mr. Cavanaugh. It is improbable you will ever do any better.”

Lucy liked him and now Mama. Wasn’t that enough? Did he really need my approval too?

Nevertheless, I smiled and said, “I will try to like him, Mama, just to please you. But do not announce our engagement quite yet. I doubt that Mr. Cavanaugh has the least intention of liking me in return. Have you considered that?”

“Well, I cannot see where that is any of his concern. It is his clear duty to society to marry, and there is no earthly reason it should not be one of my girls that he settles on in the end.”

But despite what I had said to appease Mama, I really was determined to go on disliking Mr. Cavanaugh. I only hoped I could do it with Lizzy Bennet’s flair.

Did you get a little taste of that love/hate dynamic developing between Kate and Mr. Cavanaugh? I had a lot of fun writing a modern girl’s perspective for a change, a girl now dealing with the the challenges of no electricity and no indoor plumbing, along with the complexities of finding love and her happy ending. Naturally, things don’t quite go the way our heroine had imagined. I hope you’ll come along for the ride!

Leap of Hope is available in paperback, audio, Kindle, and KU.

OTHER NEWS: For Myself Alone and Miss Georgiana Darcy of Pemberley are both on sale at Amazon and Barnes and Noble through February 20th ($2.99 in ebook). Also, I’m pleased to announce that Prayer & Praise: a Jane Austen Devotional is now available in audio (as well as Kindle and paperback). So now you can LISTEN to the words of Jane Austen’s prayers and the messages they inspired, illustrated by familiar characters and situations from her novels. Fitzwilliam Darcy, in His Own Words is finished and out to a few trusted beta readers. I’m aiming for a release in May!