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Mine, as usual, comes from an affectionate pastiche of a Regency romance, which was the first thing I ever wrote using a word processing programme. Teensy keyboard on a Spectrum ZX and the memory had to be purged every 10 pages because the ‘hard drive’ was about 16Kb. And it was STILL a big improvement over writing by hand.
Anyhow – last week Agnes, the maid, muttered something to anger young Lady Cicely, but Agnes is by no means a downtrodden drudge.
Agnes flushed but held her ground. “I’ll not hold my tongue, milady,” she declared. “If you’re not moping, you’re as cross as crabs and it has gone on long enough. Captain Munro was a thoroughgoing scoundrel and I was glad to see the back of him but now, honestly, milady, there’s times I could wish him back again.”
“Agnes!” Cicely was outraged. She rose to her feet to administer a sharp rebuke, then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. I look, she told herself, like an ugly, bitter old maid, and I won’t be twenty-five until my next birthday! She dropped back into her chair and removed her spectacles.
“Forgive me,” she whispered. “Have I really been so unbearable?”
“Not unbearable,” Agnes replied, “just powerful hard to live with.”
Pink-cheeked, Cicely toyed with the papers on her desk. “I was such a fool,” she said. “Rory was so exciting, such fun, so plausible. I could not believe that it was my fortune alone that counted with him. I’ve learned my lesson now. In future, I will keep to my library; books are less fickle than men. I am so sorry for being so horrid.”
“We made allowances, never fret,” Agnes told her, cheerfully. “Are there any letters from your aunt?”
Aww, a moment of calm before the storm that is Aubrey breaks over their heads. Next week, then. Toodles.