The dragons have insisted that I offer you a sneak peek at the new book. (It hasn’t gone through final editing and proofing yet, so you may find the odd typo…just snicker quietly at me for that!) I’ve got two chapters left to write, the editing and proofing. Hoping for the end of May, beginning of June for release!

Here you go!

November 1, 1815

Balen, with all her consideration and foresight, had already called down to the stables and suggested their driver, Jonty Bragg, prepare the coach and meet them up on the cliffs. Perhaps it was a bit intrusive, but it was the sort of considerate thing Anne might have done under similar circumstances. And given the exhaustion of early pregnancy, it was a welcome relief not to scurry up and down the local hills.

Balen was a very considerate Friend.

Bragg handed her out of the carriage near the front door of the three-story white inn, where a sign of a gold lion wearing a crown on a red standard greeted her. Perched on Broad St. near Drakes Way, the inn offered a view of the shore and the ocean, if one could be bothered to enjoy it.

Balen had assured her that her father’s coach was still several miles away, so she had time to make arrangements with the innkeeper for accommodations before they arrived. A portly, friendly looking man, just an innkeeper should look, he seemed pleased to send a main scurrying to ensure his two best rooms were prepared for occupancy.

The last of the details had just been settled on when the worn, somber-looking coach bearing her family rolled up. The driver handed them out. Elizabeth’s complaints about the journey and Father’s dissatisfaction at the quaintness of the inn tumbled in through the Royal Lion’s street-facing windows.

Anne smiled an apology to the innkeeper and stood near the front door. Thankfully, the front hall was empty but for her and the innkeeper. With a low, beamed ceiling, paneled walls, and several comfortable hall chairs, the warm, welcoming space did not deserve the company about to violate it.

The door flew and Father marched in. Impeccably dressed in dark coat and breeches, but covered in a light layer of road dust, Father had not changed since her last encounter with him. His face was flushed and screwed up in an expression of petulance and disapproval. Behind him, Elizabeth fought to brush wrinkles out of her dusty pelisse skirt, oozing displeasure from every pore. Travel did not agree with them, unless they were going to London for the season. Then it was tolerable. But since, at this time of year especially, there was no one to see or be seen by at Lyme, so everything about it and the journey to get there would be unsatisfying.

“Anne?” Father stammered, jaw dropping in a decidedly inelegant expression.

“What ever are you doing here?” Elizabeth folded her arms, which usually was the prelude to a tantrum. “What are we doing here? The driver had instructions to bring us to—”

“I explicitly gave orders that we should be taken to your home.” Father huffed as though that settled matters.

“I have made arrangements for you to have accommodations here,” Anne said. How easily that placating tone she always had used with Father came back.

“Here? Here? No, I have no intention of staying in such a place when my daughter lives not three miles away.” Father somehow managed to lift his head and look down at her all at the same time.

“You know that is not possible, and no, I will not discuss the matter.”

“It is that awful husband of your, is it not?” Elizabeth’s eyes bulged like a horse about to throw its rider.

“Don’t you say nothing about the baronet, Miss,” the innkeeper said, in a low steady voice that had just a hint of warning to it. “He be well-respected around here and the locals will not take well to you speaking ill of him.”

“How dare you speak to me that way! He is my brother-in-law, and I will speak of him in whatever way I so choose.” Elizabeth tossed her head and looked aside.

“Then do not be surprised if the locals choose not to do business with you. Loyalties run strong in Lyme, you should know. It does not do to cross them.” The innkeeper crossed his meaty arms over his chest.

“You did not write to us of your plans, Father. Kellynch-by-the-Sea is not prepared to accommodate guests right now. It is fortunate that a near neighbor saw you on the road and alerted us to your visit. I imagine you would like some refreshments?” Anne turned to the innkeeper. “Pray, have their luggage sent to their rooms.”

Father rolled his eyes and nodded at the same time. He would condescend to take such things, though they would not be to his standard.

“There is a private room in the pub. I will show you there and have a tray sent.” The innkeeper led them through a low door to the back of the building. They passed through a well-proportioned dining room with several small tables and two large ones. Wide windows pour scant afternoon sun in to reflect off the mirrors and polished brass throughout the wood paneled room. He led them through another narrow door to a small, white painted room, lit by a single window. Most of the space was taken up by a narrow rectangular table that might have seated six if absolutely necessary, but probably better accommodated four.

Anne sat at the table at the seat nearest the window and gestured for Father and Elizabeth to join her. “How were your travels?”

The innkeeper shut the door behind him as he left them.

“Perfectly ghastly. We have been all day in that carriage with scarcely any stops for comfort.” Elizabeth perched on her seat, hinting that it might not be worthy to receive her. “I do not understand why we could not find other accommodation in Bath. I am certain there were other houses to let there.”

Father glared at Anne as though it were her fault.

“I am sure it has something to do with the rather unique financial position you are in—”

“Do not be vulgar, Anne,” he all but snarled. “That is not the sort of thing discussed in polite company.”

Since when were Father and Elizabeth polite company? “What has prompted your visit?”

“I imagine you already know. But since you ask, a fire has made our house uninhabitable. We need other accommodations,” Father said.

“But why come here? I am certain there are those who could have assisted you in Bath.” Anne clenched her fist under the table.

“We were not satisfied with the accommodations there and I had little reason to expect they will do any better for us now.” He glanced at Elizabeth, who nodded vigorously.

“I insist on having a say in the house this time. That place we were in was terrible!” Elizabeth pressed her hand to her chest.

“We need something fitting to the station of a baronet.”

“Need I remind you of your station?” Anne whispered as a serving girl entered with a tray.

The girl set several platters on the table as well as a tea service and walked out as slowly as possible, at least until Anne glared at her. No doubt there were many who wanted details about the baronet’s unexpected arrival.

“I am a baronet!” He slapped the table.

“Who lost his family lands through mismanagement and debt. You are fortunate to have the living that you do.” Not that he would understand her explanation any better this time that he had the countless times before.

Elizabeth leaned forward, whispering, “It is not enough for anything. I have not even been able to purchase a new gown for this season! Have you any idea how humiliating that is?”

“Do you have anywhere to wear a new gown?” No, that was not an appropriate thing to say, but who could blame her?

“I should, and that is also humiliating. We are so bored. Can you imagine, we have had no invitations, attend no concerts, no socializing at all. It is too much to be borne.” Elizabeth dabbed the corner of her eye with her handkerchief.

“Go talk to the … bankers… Anne. They will listen to you. You can tell them I have learned my lesson and will live in moderation now. There is no need to continue this farce of a punishment.” He folded his hand on the table.

“You do not understand, do you? Whence do you think your money comes? You have no land, no investment, no savings. The little living that you enjoy is a gift, not a right.” Anne laid her open hands on the table.

Father drew breath, a long deep one that would inevitably fuel many arguments.

“No. There is nothing more, and if you abuse what you are given, even that will be taken from you. The life you once had is gone forever. You must learn to appreciate what you have.”

“Why do you not take us in as any good sister would do? Really, it is too cruel. I am sure it is the doing of Lady Russel. She always thought far too well of you,” Elizabeth said.

“Lady Russel is dead of influenza.”

“I am sorry, I did not know.” Elizabeth had the small decency to blush. “But now that you are free of her influence, you may—”

“No, I may not. I cannot invite you into my home. It is simply impossible.”

“No, it is not. You are being stubborn, Anne.” He snorted just like Kellynch did when he was not permitted his way.

“You know that is not true. You know precisely why it is and how it is entirely of your making. I will see what can be done. I will call upon you when I know something further. Do not come to Kellynch-by-the-Sea.” Anne stood.

“Why are you such a selfish, ungrateful creature Anne?” Elizabeth jumped to her feet and leaned across the table. “If it were you suffering—”

“Stop. Stop right there. I am not going to listen to the fictions that you craft to make yourself feel better. Enjoy your meal and your accommodations. Good day.” Anne pulled her shoulders back and marched from the room, straight to her coach, which waited just outside.

Jonty Bragg helped her inside, where Balen waited.

“Are you all right?” Balen laid a lap run over Anne’s knees.

“It went exactly as one might have expected to go. Tomorrow, I will pay a call to Mr. Wynn and get this matter sorted out.”

What do you think Anne is going to do with this latest challenge? Tell me in the comments.