Home > Big Duke Energy(7)

Big Duke Energy(7)
Author: Emma Hart

Of course, there was something going on inside my brain. My hero was forming as a tall, black-haired guy who would bump into the heroine while on a run, and that was quite annoying.

Because there was only one tall, black-haired guy I knew.

Max.

The Duke of Windermere.

The Duke of Arseholery, more like.

He’d hardly been nice to me, and a part of me wished I’d thrown the bottle of water at him instead of handing it to him nicely. Perhaps Esme’s words about him judging romance novels were also sticking to me and making me judge him without knowing him, but that really wasn’t my fault.

Romance novels were unfairly maligned, and I would fight anyone who criticised the genre.

All right, so fight was a strong word. I wasn’t exactly Ronda Rousey, you know? But if I got a good swing, I bet I could throw a book at someone and hit them hard.

I’d probably apologise to the book after, but still.

I sighed and perched on the window seat that overlooked the lake. It was truly beautiful here, and it almost seemed to be the perfect setting for my book. I’d originally planned for it to be set in London, but the longer I stared out at the clear lake with a beautiful pair of swans swimming across it, the more the nameless characters told me this was where it was supposed to be.

This was where their story would be told.

Maybe that was a good place to start.

I was a linear writer. I started at the beginning and finished at the end, and while I took notes during the process of anything that came to mind, I didn’t write any scenes unless they were supposed to be there.

But now…

I took a deep breath and went back to the desk to fetch my laptop to take it back to the window seat and nestled back in amongst the cushions. After typing in my password on the login screen of my laptop, I opened a new document and started describing the setting outside of the window.

It wasn’t long, only four hundred words or so, but it was enough to set the scene. It was four hundred words I didn’t have twenty minutes ago, and words were words at this point. I wasn’t entirely sure where this description would go or if I’d even use what I’d just written, but it was better than nothing.

If setting was the key to unlocking this book, perhaps I needed to go out and explore. The village of Windermere was only a few minutes away, and there was a good chance I’d be able to pull together enough inspiration to keep unlocking this story that was being so stubborn.

I glanced back at Winston, happily sleeping on the armchair. There was a huge beam of sunlight glaring through the window right to that spot, and he stretched out before he rolled onto his back and showed his curly-furred belly.

Oh, to be a cat.

Three knocks sounded at the door, and I frowned, getting up so I could answer it. I pulled the door open and smiled.

Esme.

She smiled contritely. “I brought a chocolate cake.”

“Is that for me?”

“It most certainly is. I was rather heavy-handed with you yesterday, and I thought I might bring it by way of an apology.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, gratefully accepting the cake box from her. “I suppose you’d like this box returned.”

“I would. I tend to misplace them, and they’re rather expensive.”

I smiled. “I’ll let you know when I’m done with it.”

“Wonderful.”

Esme hovered for a moment, and I could tell that she wasn’t quite done.

“Was there something else?” I asked her, trying not to let my smile grow too wide.

“Yes, actually. You’re a smart one.” She opened her handbag and pulled out a cream-coloured envelope that she handed to me. “This is for you.”

Frowning, I set the cake box down on the side table and took the envelope from her.

Oh. This was a fancy envelope. You know, fancy-fancy. Thick paper that felt good when you rubbed your thumb over it kind of fancy.

I flipped it over. She hadn’t sealed the envelope flap, so I slipped my finger into the space and opened it, then pulled out the card that was inside and scanned it.

“Esme, is this a formal invitation to your book club?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes, it is. I’m aware that I strong-armed you into coming rather than asking you, so please consider this my request for you to join us next week. It’s only the four of us at the big house, and I know the ladies would love to meet you.”

I looked down at the card with a smile. “It would be my pleasure, Esme.”

“You’re a sweet girl.” She brightened. “The time is the last half an hour. We have to discuss our last book—a thriller that wasn’t all that thrilling, if I’m perfectly honest—then I’ll pull you out and be the queen of the book club once again.”

I dipped my chin. “Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”

“Just a pen to sign my books in front of them. I do like to brag.”

No kidding.

“But we are fond of cheesecake. And gin. Especially the gin.”

So she wanted me to bring gin, then.

“I’ll make sure to remember that.” I tucked the invitation back into the envelope and put it on top of the cake box. “Thank you for this. It’s unnecessary but appreciated nonetheless.”

Esme beamed. “Did my grandson introduce himself yet?”

“I saw him this morning,” I said slowly. “And he did, yes.”

She nodded. “Good. I hope he was nicer than he was yesterday.”

I wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that. Or what I’d nicknamed him inside my head.

“He… introduced himself,” I settled on after a long moment.

“Well, I suppose that is nicer than he was yesterday,” Esme agreed. “You’ll notice I left the goat at home today.”

I glanced around her. “Yes. I assumed you’d had enough of him eating your plants.”

“Mm. He’s a greedy little shit. Fantastic to have around when the shrubs need pruning, though.”

I fought back a smile. “I’d imagine he is.”

Esme nodded. “Right, then. I’ll leave you to your day. I did promise Max I wouldn’t bug you for too long.”

“It’s very rude of him to assume you’re bugging me.”

“That’s what I said. Alas, he disagrees.”

“Do you think he ever tires of being wrong?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Every day, my dear. You’d think he’d learn by now, wouldn’t you?”

I grinned.

“I must say, I am glad that you’re just as amusing in real life as you are in your books.” She paused. “Although perhaps that’s a sentiment I should reserve for romance authors and not so much the mystery ones.”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I have to agree with you there.”

“Probably for the best. What was I doing? Oh, yes, I was leaving. Dearie me.” She stepped back away from the door. “I shall see you soon, Ellie, dear.”

“See you soon. And thank you for the cake.”

“Don’t forget to bring that box back to me. They’re annoyingly expensive for what they are.”

“I’ll bring it to the book club at the latest,” I assured her.

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