Anniversary Garden Party & Giveaway, Part 2
Collected by Mary Jo
Welcome to the second part of the Word Wench anniversary garden party, and this time, we're giving out books! The Wenches will give books to seven winners chosen at random from among the commenters by Tuesday night. So tell us your thoughts! (Commenters from both days of the anniversary posts are eligible.)
As on Friday, each Wench will summon one of our fictional couples from Pat Rice's magical library. Because libraries are all magical, here we can meet people from all places and times. The invitation will invite our people to a party in Anne Gracie's Bellaire Gardens, which is a wonderful garden square that is completely surrounded by grand residences. The garden is essentially the back yard of the houses, so residents can stroll and meet and mingle.
Come meet the other guests!
Nicola Cornick summons an elegant couple from the Tudor era:
One of the huge tomes on Tudor history suddenly sprang open with a snap and a tall, fair- haired man stepped out, a sword held watchfully in his hand. “Stand back, Anne. I’ve done this sort of thing before.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “It’s safe, I believe. You may come out-” He stopped as he caught sight of his wife already darting from shelf to shelf. “Oh, you’re already out. Of course you are.”
“Francis!” The diminutive blonde woman turned to him, eyes sparkling. “Francis, it’s a library! Isn’t it marvelous?”
Francis chuckled. “It’s very fine, my dear, but if like me you had seen the British Library and the Bodleian in Oxford-”
Anne playfully swatted his arm. “Oh, you are always speaking of your travels when you know that I cannot compete with the places you’ve been! But now at last I have a little magic of my own to experience.”
Her eyes fell on the windows and the garden vista beyond. “Oh, how beautiful. It looks like the Queen’s bower at Richmond Palace. I long to explore it!”
Francis sheathed his sword and offered her his arm with a bow. “Then let us proceed.”
“Wait!” Anne hung back glancing down cautiously at her dress of red velvet. “Do we look sufficiently elegant, husband? I see some ladies in some very fine clothes whilst I am only in my second-best gown and you...”
Her gaze softened as she looked at him. “Well, you look handsome as always, of course, but you were chopping wood before we arrived so you are a little dishevelled in your shirt and breeches.”
Francis laughed. “It is not like you to lack confidence, my dear. Remember that you are a Neville. Some of these guests may well be related to you. Not the Vikings, perhaps,” he added thoughtfully, “but since we are all northerners in our own way, I suspect we will find much in common.”
A burst of warm laughter from the gardens caught their attention. “Come along then!” Anne said, slipping her hand through his arm. “I seem to remember you mentioning a drink called champagne on your travels. Do you think there will be any…?”
The Last Daughter will be released in the UK on 8 July 2021
Andrea Penrose's mystery solving couples finally meet!
"Wrexford! Stop dawdling among the chemistry books,” called Charlotte Sloane. “The Word Wenches have taken great pains to arrange this gala picnic, so we mustn’t be late."
“Oh, fie, everyone expects me to be rude,” grumbled the earl, casting a longing look at a medieval treatise on gunpowder. “Why have us arrive in a magical library if we can’t—”
“Saybrook? Saybrook?” A tall, willowy lady suddenly emerged from one of the countless alcoves. “Excuse me, but do you perchance know where the botany section is? I fear my husband is hiding—”
“Did you say Saybrook?” exclaimed Wrexford. “Are you Sandro’s wife?”
“Why, yes. I’m Arianna—”
“How delightful!” exclaimed Charlotte. “Henning has told me so much about you and your husband. At last we meet—”
“Hallo, Wrex! Fancy finding you here. I thought you hated parties.” Saybrook strolled through the archway. “Look, my dear! I found a book on Theobroma cacao—”
A loud crash from one of the adjoining alcoves cut him off.
Charlotte winced. “I fear the Weasels may have followed us—”
“Weasels?” Arianna’s brow furrowed in concern. “The Word Wenches have asked their dear friends Lady Charlton and Lucy to host the picnic, and they’re quite proud of Bellaire Gardens. I fear they would frown on any vermin invading—”
“We’re not vermin, we’re proper little gentlemen!” A dark-hair boy scampered out the shadows, though he covered in enough mud and other unmentionable substances to belie the assertion.
“Our ward,” explained Charlotte. “Where is your brother, Hawk?”
A less-than-tidy boy quickly climbed down from the bookshelves and then sniffed at the air. “Mmmm, something smells awfully good.”
Saybrook gestured to the two large boxes Arianna was holding. “My wife has brought a selection of her special chocolate confections to add to the refreshment table."
“Edible chocolate?” chorused both boys at once.
“Yes,” answered Arianna. “Flavored with sugar, cinnamon—”
“May we carry those for you?” asked Raven helpfully. “They look very heavy.”
“How very gentlemanly of you to offer.” Arianna bit back a smile as she handed them over. “The sooner we join the party, the sooner you can have a taste.”
Murder at the Royal Botanic Gardens (Wrexford and Sloane Mystery #5, will be released on September 28th, 2021.
Mary Jo Putney's bit:
Somewhere in the far northern islands of Scotland:
Kai Ramsay was pleased to see proof that Thorsay was becoming prosperous, but he was tired of studying account books. He closed the current ledger with a snap and left his office and went in search of Signy, who brought sunshine into even the dullest of days.
As he passed through the front hall, he saw that the tray holding newly arrived letters had a rolled scroll resting on top. It was addressed to the Laird and Lady of Thorsay. As he broke the seal and read the message inside, his brows arched in surprise. Would the promised magic really work?
As expected, Signy was in the library. She'd been carefully cleaning one of the ancient Viking chess pieces, but now her tall form was silhouetted against the window as she watched dark clouds and the high wind that sent crashing waves onto the shore below Skellig House. Without turning, she said, "There's a fine storm blowing in, my laird."
He stepped up behind her and slid his arms around her waist to draw her close. "We've no shortage of splendid storms this far north, but today we can go to a garden party given by a group of historical tale tellers called the Word Wenches."
She turned in his arms, brushing a kiss against his cheek as she did. "Isn't it early in the year for a garden party, Kai?"
"It is in Thorsay, but not in southern England." He handed her the scroll. "The garden belongs to Lady Anne of Gracie and it's in London. Remember I promised to take you to London soon? Perhaps today is the day!"
Signy's dark red brows arched as she read the beautiful calligraphy of the invitation. She glanced at Kai, then looked around at the shelves of leather bound books. "Do you think this will work?"
"I hope so. After all, libraries are magic and ours is the finest library in all the northern islands. Shall we find out?"
She laughed and studied the bookshelves. "Very well, take my hand as I tap the scroll on this shelf of ancient tales and legends." After he took her hand, she touched the scroll to her chosen shelf of books like a queen wielding a scepter.
The air shimmered and filled with light as a tall portal opened in the bookcase. Signy gasped. "Merciful heavens, what a magnificent garden! Look at the flowers and the wisteria tunnel and the glass gazebo in the center!"
"Not to mention the elegantly dressed guests." Kai's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Judging by their clothing, most seem to be of our own time, but that couple on the left appear to have stepped in from the court of Queen Elizabeth Tudor."
Signy gasped and squeezed his hand. "The three couples over there look like Vikings! Do you think they can tell us more about Viking ships and chess sets?"
"There's only one way to find out, my love." Kai managed to one-handedly snag two flutes of champagne from a passing servitor. Handing one flute to Signy, he said, "Let's go introduce ourselves to our Nordic ancestors!"
Once a Laird, Rogues Redeemed #6, will be released on October 28th. You can preorder a copy here.
Susan King sends Scots, of course!:
Somewhere in 18th century Scotland …
“Look!” Sophie set her hand on the bookshelf in the old library and glanced back at Connor. “There is an opening here. I think we can fit through. Come ahead.”
“Through a gap in the bookshelf?” Connor MacPherson asked. “In my own library? Perhaps there is a hole in the wall—this crumbling old castle requires constant repair.”
“I very much like your library,” she said. “Quite the collection. Milton, Shakespeare, Pope—even Walton’s Compleat Angler. And this one. Van Oosten.” She tilted her head to read the gilt letters along the spine. “The Dutch Florist.”
“Recently translated,” Connor said. “I thought you might like it, since you brought bags of tulip bulbs all the way to Scotland from the Netherlands.”
“Which are growing admirably, though you insisted nothing ever grows here at Glendoon.”
“Nothing did, until you arrived,” he murmured.
“Look, Connor—the light is coming from one of these books,” she said, shifting a volume or two along one of the shelves.
“A light coming from a book,” he repeated. “Sophie MacCarran, you must be mad.”
“I know you think it sometimes.” She smiled, gray eyes sparkling. “Perhaps it is just the fairy blood they say runs through the veins of my clan.”
“And you, lass, have more than a touch of it. Enough that you can set your hand to a plant that will not thrive, and suddenly it blooms—now you are seeing lights inside books. Gardening books, no less.”
“Your gardening books, sir, for your crops and fields and such,” she reminded him as she pulled an especially large old volume off the shelf. As she began to open it, light dazzled out of its pages like a lantern’s glow.
“What the devil?” Connor took the volume and propped it open on a shelf.
Sophie leaned forward. “Something is there—a garden! And people,” she said, glancing up at him. “It looks like some kind of celebration. Do you see?”
He peered over her shoulder. “I do indeed.”
The interior glow grew brighter, becoming a brilliant, translucent bubble of light. Sophie reached for Connor’s hand as the bookcase vanished in the light—
“A door,” Sophie whispered. “And the garden beyond that arch is beautiful! I have to see it—”
“Careful, lass,” Connor said.
“They are looking toward us, beckoning. Do you see them?”
“Fairy magic,” he muttered. “Not again.”
“If so, we are protected, for my ancestress was of that ilk. Come with me!”
“Be cautious, lass. You are too impulsive.”
“Impulsive! And who stole a lass away from her military escort and married her by force and persuasion before the night was out? That was not my impulse, sir.”
“No impulse, but a promise. I gave your brother my word to protect you.”
“And so you did. Now you can protect me again, or not. It is up to you. I am going into that garden.” Her impish smile proved, he was certain, her fairy ancestry. “Courage enough to blow up a bridge to stop the redcoats, yet you hesitate when a light comes from a book?”
He saw a shimmering doorway in the light, and beyond it, people waiting—ladies, gentlemen, even a few who looked like Norsemen and women from another age. And the garden, indeed, was beautiful. He felt compelled, though he would keep that to himself. After all, he had promised Sophie, with her magical way with plants, that he would help her create the finest gardens the castles of Glendoon and Kinnoull, his properties by right, had ever seen. Perhaps this magical light would show the way. “Hesitate? Sophie, my lass and my love,” he said, “I never hesitate.”
He took her hand and stepped with her through the bright doorway.
Read Sophie and Connor’s story in Stealing Sophie, Book 1 in the Highland Dreamers series, coming in June!
Happy Anniversary to my dear sister Word Wenches!
Thank you all for joining us. Share your thoughts and perhaps you'll win a Word Wench book!
Mary Jo & all the Company of Word Wenches