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His soul-mate predicted to come “from afar,” will Logan, Earl of Davenport, aided by his friend Lord Byron — and Logan’s favourite riding crop — find his destiny when the independent Esme Tyme finds herself transported from contemporary Boston, Massachusetts to Regency England?
As the resident literary giant among these other mortals, let me introduce you to myself and a few of my friends. I use many names, but you may know me best as George Gordon, the Lord Byron. Prior to my introduction to the Shelleys, my closest friend and confidante is Logan Davenport — the Earl of Davenport to you. However, having the good fortune to witness Esme Tyme’s fantastical arrival to my era and into my friend’s bed, as well as his heart, I well know how you 21st century creatures make free with familiarity.
Ah yes…the woman here in my own arms? Of no consequence…except to her favorite clients here in the local brothel, located no great distance from Logan’s country estates.
While there are no limits to the number of best lines I write, my personal favorite utterance in this story I direct towards Logan as he moons over his comely time-traveler Esme: “You act as if your head is up your arse in her presence.”
Allow me to make proper introductions to Esme Tyme’s best friends and business partners, the fair Charisse Thibodeau and her husband Timone. While Charisse exits our story early, her attention to authenticity and detail planning a masked ball she throws to launch the opening of their new Boston offices marks the beginning of Esme’s adventure into Logan’s arms. I much regret the lovely Charisse traveled not with her friend. If she too ever does bridge that great divide of time, I confess: I much prefer she travel light, without any baggage labeled “spouse.”
Charisse’s most astute observation: “Getting off to your ‘Lord of the Locket’ works great for your fantasy life, Esme, but let’s find you a man with a heartbeat for this party.”
In polite society, I would introduce Logan to you by his title, the Earl of Davenport. We shall maintain a pretense of civility here: I am pleased to introduce you to my good friend, the Earl of Davenport.
Esme finds herself dancing a few steps at the launch party with this mysterious stranger dressed in an exquisite Regency “costume.” This, of course, constitutes usual garb for Logan in his world. Note: he checked his riding crop at the door….
My favorite line among Logan’s many rants regarding his erstwhile house-guest: “She enjoys the riding crop, Lord Byron. I fear to fuel the fire. Perhaps this will cool her fever.”
This he tells Esme prior to dumping her in a river. Ah, romance….
As one of Logan’s house-guests, I witness most of the encounters and clashes between these two proud, independent, stubborn people.
In the middle of yet another heated argument, Logan does what Esme least expects: he leans over to kiss her, this, in spite of the passionate coupling they share prior, their first kiss….They make love in a pounding storm (I know — I watched), the servants making themselves smaller than usual when the mud-covered lord emerges back into his house, carrying the equally filthy Esme in his arms.
They do clean up quite nicely, though, yes?
Esme here now. My first thought when I realize I am in England in 1814 is not the stuff of my idea of romance: ”OMG…I landed in a Jane Austen novel.” My second thought: does this year pre-date indoor plumbing? On the other hand…look at this man. In his arms, I conclude indoor plumbing may be over-rated….
Logan’s favorite line coming from me to him: “You wear too many clothes, sir,” prompting him to divest himself of said offending garments post-haste. I agree: he looks insanely handsome in Regency clothing…but I prefer him naked.
