My Lady's Choosing: An Interactive Romance Novel(23)

“YES!” the children answer in unison.

“Or a john who wants you to take it up the jacksie but don’t wanna pay more for it!” shouts a passing whore.

“Or the barman who won’t…hic!…serve you no more!” yells a drunk, passed out in a nearby doorway.

“Er, yes. Thank you.” You nod and turn to None-of-Your-Business. “Or a young friend who likes to scowl more than smile?”

“YES!” All the children turn and stare at None-of-Your-Business, who grins.

“So,” you say, pleased, “you all know what ornery is. And that is our first lesson: just because you don’t know the name for something doesn’t mean you don’t know what the name means.”

The children stare at you in awe. You ride the wave. “Now, we are all going to take turns with this chalk and you will all write ‘ornery’ on the board.”

Immediately after the last child has finished, the sky breaks and deluges you in a cleansing rain. You take it as a sign of success in your new venture, and your dress takes to clinging to your figure becomingly.

“My name is Bert,” squeaks None-of-Your-Business. You smile. “And I like your bristols!” he says, glancing up.

“What in the blasted devil’s glen is going on here, lass?!” Mac barrels out, eyes blazing in disapproval of your alternative teaching methods.

“The children are learning,” you say, barely containing a most-pleased smirk. “There is no reason they can’t do so on their own street.”

“The children will catch their bloody death in the rain on their own street, if they aren’t carried off to the workhouse or the street corner first!” Mac’s eyes flicker with anger and slowly travel down to your wet bosom before returning to your eyes. You sense that something like desire is tucked behind all his self-righteousness, but before you can take him to task for neighborhood-shaming, a smash sounds from somewhere within the home.

“Bloody hell!” Abercrombie flees out the front door, carrying the wooden chest. “The orphanage is on fire!”

“Oi, Dodger! Stop that! No!” Timmy cries as his hound bounds into the burning building. He races in after his foolish dog while the children scream at him to stop being ornery.





Turn to this page.





The next day, you and Craven pick through the rubble. Though it is a shame that an obsessive madman has burned Hopesend Manor to cinders, it presents you and Lord Craven with a wonderful real estate opportunity.

With Manvers and the past gone with the original structure, and little Master Alexander finally sent off to school, you and your man are free to make furious love and rebuild your home to your heart’s content.

Before you do, of course you poke around the rubble of the Forbidden Wing and find, miraculously untouched by flame, the damning small volume written in the lady’s own true hand. There, in Blanche’s secret tome, you learn her desire to “kill Craven, the child, and Manvers, and use Craven’s moodiness to frame it all on him.” You are justified in despising this wretch of a woman.

You feel happier and lighter than you ever have. You go to meet Craven in the eldritch garden for the first time since the main house burned down. You find him there, lying in handsome repose about some ruined graves, hungry for your conversation and touch.





“Do you think us wicked?” he asks, after having succumbed to climax in your mouth, sex, and crook of elbow.

“I think us lucky.”

You watch his member rise as a gentleman does when a lady enters a room.

“We are lucky, indeed,” he says, before filling your mouth with his tongue.

Luck, you think, as you enter into your umpteenth round of ecstasy in the eldritch garden in three or so hours, is your favorite promise kept by love.

The End





You ride as hard as you can on your camel across the desert, racing the rising sun. Unfortunately, you have already ridden Fabien as hard as you could, and the combination of hardnesses is showing your softness no mercy. Even more unfortunately, you hear a roar of outrage behind you as you gallop ineptly over the dunes. It seems you did not ply Fabien with quite enough wine.

“Er…faster, camel! Cha! Cha!” You urge the beast to move with the fire of a thousand suns, using your heels, your knees, and, eventually, in desperation, your elbows. It is all for naught. With a mad cry, Fabien catches up to you and grabs your waist with his powerful hands.

“You tricked me!” he snarls. His misty-green eyes narrow like an asp’s when about to bite. “Love is but a trick to all women. But it is one you will never play on me again!”

Before you know it, you are bound, blindfolded, and unceremoniously thrown over the back of your camel. A cold trickle of dread runs down your spine. Despite your best efforts, you are on your way to meet the traitorous Delphine. What exactly does she have planned for you?





You have no choice but to find out. Turn to this page.





Not long after, Lady Evangeline is shooting you the worried look friends exchange when they are stuck on late-night carriage rides to London from Derbyshire to save a family member from losing his inheritance.

“Where do you propose to go in London?” The gentle tone of her voice snaps you to attention. You have spent the better part of the long ride staring into the middle distance, reviewing your hunches.