Page 77 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Before Helena could ask, Dahlia continued, “I shall not publish of course. I merely use the stories to illustrate life in London for debutantes. The dos and don’ts, what to join and what to avoid. The things we learned the hard way. Who knows the life of a debutante better than me after all. And of course, young love, romance!”
Helena’s smile was huge.
“That is a wonderful idea, Dahlia! You will be instructing as well as entertaining your readers! Brilliant!”
Dahlia’s responding smile was just as wide as her friend’s.
“Have you completed much of it?”
Here, Dahlia’s face fell.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
A long sigh escaped Dahlia.
“At the beginning, it was going wonderfully well. I used the twins as inspirations you see; I introduced them as new characters in the story. I had much to write when it was about them. But when it was time to write about the Duke of Snowdon, it became harder. Mary and Claire are expecting the next chapter soon, but I have nothing to show them. I tried writing but everything I wrote, I was not satisfied with.”
“Perhaps, it’s your new surroundings; maybe you are still adjusting to it. Afterall your books were set in London most of the time.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that.”
“What about if the Duke gets a new archnemesis?”
Dahlia almost laughed at this. She looked down at her hands, choosing her words to make Helena understand.
“I don’t think it’s the content of the story that bothers me so. It’s the way I have written it—or the way I havenotwritten it. Oh, I cannot explain it!”
Not knowing what to say, Helena took her friend’s hand in hers.
“The narrator’s voice, her opinions about the Duke, her remarks about him, they no longer feel true; her voice—or what it was before, is no longer my voice. Even the Duke himself is not the same character as he was before, and I cannot quite grasp what he is becoming.”
“Dahlia, fictional charactercharacters cannot change—well, not on their own at least.”
“No, they cannot.”
“Then, perhaps you’ve changed.”
Yes, perhaps I have. And I’m not sure how that makes me feel.
“Me, change?”
“Yes, for one, I see how you and His Grace no longer seem to hate each other.”
“We have declared a truce; that is all.”
“A truce that seems to be working very well. I saw a sparkle in you that was not there before.”
“A sparkle, really?” Dahlia rolled her eyes.
“I do not jest.”
“It was probably because I was so happy to see you.”
“His Grace looked very well too.”
“He has always looked very well.”
“No, no there is a difference somehow.” Helena narrowed her eyes. “I have been observing the two of you.”
