The Victorian Adventurers
Notice Has Been Taken
Lady Elinor’s Wicked Adventures, under its working title The Etruscan Adventure, won first prize in the Historical Category in the 2012 Launching a Star Contest and also in the 2012 Four Seasons Romance Writing Contest.
"A simply delightful tale of love, passion, lies and family life set against a wonderfully historical backdrop." - Fresh Fiction
Lady Elinor’s Wicked Adventures
One of the adventurous Tremaines, children of the Marquess of Penworth, Lady Elinor longs for something new and different. Harry, Viscount Tunbury, longs for Lady Elinor. On a trip to Italy, they explore Etruscan ruins, defy antiquities thieves, help a Garibaldi supporter, and find that love is the greatest adventure.
The Victorian Adventure series
From Lady Elinor's Wicked Adventures
“Harry!” It was half a shriek, half a demand.
He jumped up wide awake, his heart thumping. What had frightened her?
But she didn’t look frightened. Confused, perhaps. Nervous, even. She was holding his jacket in her lap, and then lifted her hand.
It was his Colt. She had found his revolver and was holding it by the barrel, dangling over her lap.
He gave a short laugh, shaky with relief. “I thought something had happened to you.”
“Well, it looks as if you were expecting something to happen. What on earth is this?”
“It’s a handgun.”
She gave him the look that idiotic reply deserved. “I know it’s a handgun. What is it doing in your pocket?”
He started to relax. “Well, it isn’t just a handgun. It’s a revolver. A Colt pocket revolver.” He took it from her, checking to make sure she hadn’t accidentally cocked it. “It shoots five rounds without reloading. I bought it when I was in America. They’re very popular over there.”
She was still staring at it. “All right, it’s in your pocket because it’s a pocket revolver. But why do you have it with you at all?”
He shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Habit, I suppose. I grew accustomed to carrying it with me all the time when I was traveling. And we are in a strange place here. There could be bandits. Or snakes.”
Now she was looking dubious. “Snakes,” she said flatly. “Could you even hit a snake with that thing?”
“I will have you know that I am an excellent shot.” He was offended.
She looked even more dubious.
“I’ll show you. Do you see that bush over there?” He pointed at a wilting shrub on the far side of the glen.
“I could hardly fail to see it. It must be ten feet high—quite as big as a barn door. I won’t be impressed if you hit that.”
He gave her a look of disgust. “Do you see the branch in the middle that sticks off at right angles to the main branch?”
She considered. “Yes, I see it.”
“All right then.” He took aim and fired.
The branch was severed just where it joined the main branch. There was a moment of silence—the shot seemed to have silenced the nearby insects—followed by a growing rumble. The wall of the glen behind the shrub trembled and then broke loose and began to roll down. With an oath, Harry pulled Norrie out of the path of the boulder that came crashing through the shrub and down the hillside to land not far from where they had been sitting.
They stared at the large slab that came to rest in a cloud of dust at their feet.
She pulled slightly away from him, though not quite out of his encircling arm, and leaned over to examine it. “Harry, I think you killed a stone.”