2nd excerpt from ‘Playing with Fire’ – a period mystery novel

Quick backstory about this project: The following is an excerpt from a novel I’m currently writing called ‘Playing with Fire’.  Set in the Victorian era, it features a recently orphaned girl of seventeen called Magda Soulditch who has relocated from India following the death of her parents, and been begrudgingly taken in by the wealthy and notorious Mordaunt family who are distant relations of hers that she’d never known about until now.  Magda, is determined to rise above her station and acquire true power so that she is never helpless again. And the Mordaunt family hide a closet of secrets, and play power games that Magda will have to navigate if she is to succeed in her quest.

I actually had no intention of writing a novel and started writing this by accident when I was going through an emotional crisis and did a character writing exercise to distract myself. I knew I wanted to do a period piece that didn’t feel archaic, and to deal with colonial relations, historical change and to have a supernatural bent.  I also wanted a strong, motivated female protagonist, who was different to your run of the mill heroine, and male counterparts who were sexy, dangerous men.  Suddenly a few pages became something more and now I have a third of a book filled with characters that seem to be speaking to me, or through me.  And I’m still going.  Here’s the latest excerpt, where our protagonist discovers an attraction to a magical rival :

Both Simon and Seraphina had the same striking pale eyes – a colour that varied from blueish grey to aqua green depending on the lighting.

Romulus had his bright, almost electric blue eyes, same as Uncle Magnus.

Electric blue, sea green – these were the Mordaunt eyes.  Eyes that could stab through your soul, or seduce you where you stand.

And right now, Simon bore down on me with those eyes.

“You aren’t who you appear to be” he said with dark intent.

A nervous tic fluttered across my throat as I fumbled ‘I..I don’t know what you mean’.

He smiled. ‘Oh I think you do’.

I turned away from him to hide how nervous I was feeling. Was the charade up already ?

“Think what you like” – I said in as offhanded a tone as i could summon.

He took a swig of his brandy and twirled his glass as if he could see something in it. Then the gleam in his eyes turned from contemplative to cunning.

“I found a very interesting diary hovering around your chamber the other day.  It mades for very engrossing reading. Of course, one needs a Sanskrit translator for a lot of it.  I wonder what Uncle Magnus and Septimus would think, if they knew you could read Sanskrit…” he trailed off letting the implications seep in.

I didn’t want to fathom that, so I went on the attack. “Sniffing around my room were you. If I knew you were so eager to see my under-garments, I would have left them on display.  A gentleman wouldn’t stoop to common snooping around a lady’s chamber ! But then you are no gentleman”.

“And you are no lady, Magda. Though definitely not a commoner either”.

He came closer. His auburn hair curled over his forehead like a dreamy poet of the Romantics. He was almost ludicrously lovely for a man, like one of those angels in the paintings at the basilica in the church – all high cheekbones, sharply defined, even features, smooth flawless skin and those changeable sea-coloured eyes that seemed to absorb me in their vision.

It would be all too easy to be drawn in by him. I could see the attraction my former classmates had to him. How they hovered about like flies when he’d come to visit.  How they stood about and fawned over him earlier tonight at the after-dinner reception.  On the surface he was all nonchalant charm and insouciance, but every so often when he thought no one was looking he gave the girlish assembly a contemptuous glance through the corner of his eye.

The last time he’d flickered a disdainful glance across the crowd, he’d landed on me and found I gave as good as I got.  I stared at him with fire in my eyes as though he was dust at my feet, then turned away and walked off.

The next thing I know, he’d made excuses and followed me.  I walked out on the balcony to grab some fresh air, and he’d joined me.  He began asking innocuous questions and then his insinuations started. That he had struck close to the bone, he never knew. Yet it was clear Simon suspected something but for reasons of his own, was probably not going to tell the rest of the Mordaunts. Which meant Simon had blackmail in mind, or something worse.

I wasn’t going to take the chance.

Inwardly shaking and seething, I knew I had to compose myself to do what had to be done next. I excused myself for a minute to powder my nose than on the way back to the balcony, I passed the service table and slipped the steak knife up my sleeve as I made a show of picking up a glass of sherry.

He watched me approach with the glass in my hand, all smiles and composure.  He raised his glass to me. I continued to smile at him with my crooked smile.

I wasn’t ready to give up all that I had gained so far. I clinked my glass with his.

“Now what were we talking about ? I quite forgot,” I laughed.

“About your identity, your mysterious origins” he answered, then a light mocking note entered his voice. “I thought you’d run away from me”.

“Why should I run ? I’m not afraid of you”, I said with more courage than I felt.

I made a show of adjusting my hair ribbons, playing for time.

“Allow me,” he purred.  Simon stepped closer to me, and tied my hair back into the posy. He inhaled my scent and bent over me as if to kiss my neck then he grabbed my wrist with the hidden knife and bent it back behind me, exposing the steel blade.

I gasped in pain.

“Planning to stab me with this ?”, he mused.

“You’re hurting me”, I hissed at him.

“And you were going to do worse,” Simon retaliated under his breath.   He squeezed my wrist until I dropped the knife and it clattered on the balcony floor.

Then he pressed himself against me, and I could feel the hardness within him. His arousal was straining his britches.

“you really are full of surprises, Magda.”  And then he nibbled my ear and kissed my collarbone, exposed by my low décolletage in the amber silk ball gown.   Then he released me as suddenly as he’d kissed me. I almost dropped to the floor, and he chuckled.  He put out an arm to steady me, but I brushed his offer aside and regained my equilibrium by holding onto the column beside me.

“Why don’t you shower your attentions on one of those simpering girls inside ?” I gestured to my other classmates back in the drawing room who’d been ogling him all evening.  “I’m sure they’d be more than grateful for your advances”.

“I’m sure they would be. But my charity doesn’t extend that far.”

“Charity”, I looked at Simon, reluctantly amused and also appalled at him. “God, you’re insufferable ! You think you’re better than them.  Those girls come from the best families in the district, and you think they are beneath you”.

“You think the same”, he observed.

I don’t think I’m better than them, do I ?  It’s true I scorned their trills and frills and displays of social feminine behaviour.  The kind of behaviour that seemed so pretentious to me, was the kind I was expected to imitate.

Simon contemplated his brandy glass and drew his finger around the rim.  Then he cornered me against the stone column

“I could expose you” he said. But I knew he wouldn’t. I could feel his desire as though it were  tangible in the air.  And as much as I deplored him, I was beginning to feel it too. Too often, it was like my body had a mind of it’s own. A ripe, wanton, fertile energy flowed through me but I resisted it. Not for Simon. He was bad news. But still my urges were strong.

“You could try. Give it your best shot. I’ll lord it over you in the end”,  I leaned forward from the stone column, my face mere inches from his.  I felt dangerous. I had to go but he had me pinned against the pillar, and my feelings were all astray.

Simon looked at me closely.  Gazed at my breasts barely constrained by my ill-fitting chiffon dress, where my nipples were hardening, at my face where my confusing sensual ambivalence must have been written across my features.

And he took my face in his hands and kissed me full on the mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. For a whole minute, I kissed him back then I pushed him angrily away. He grabbed my hand, and was going to kiss me again.

“NO” tore out of me, as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. His eyes narrowed at that. “We’ll be seen !” I hissed.

“You want me”, He accused me, his thwarted desire mingled with frustration.

“Yes, Simon, I desire you. Or at least a part of me does. But I don’t like you”. He was surprised at that. Surprised at my frankness, and that I didn’t dispense the usual feminine tactic of denying my feelings.

I continued “Besides, you don’t like me either”.  His continued silence was daunting but I was determined to have my say. I removed his arms gently from either side of me, and he released me.

“you know you don’t. You’re always saying sneering things. And I’m always sniping at you. If we go this way – we’ll be forced to the altar, and I don’t want your ring on my finger”.  He was looking at me in some consternation.

“Magda, don’t presume to think you know me. You don’t. You don’t even know yourself.” He straightened my collar that he’d undone.

He turned to leave than looked back at me. His normal dispassionate face – a tumult of strong emotions.

“You’ll change your mind. And when you do. I’ll be waiting”.

Then Simon walked out of the balcony back into the drawing room.  I heard the laughter of thrilled young woman greeting him, and his laughter echoing back.