Jillian Chantal

This week, the authors of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt mad. I am still in my Regency story. I have lots of ideas about where it may be going, but it’s just slow writing this time around for some reason.

Check out the other tales here.

Determined to stop feeling sorry for herself and take action, Jane stood and, clutching the quilt around her shoulders, walked across the room to the loose floorboard near the small end table she had picked up at Portobello Road on one of her rare outings to that area of town. It was easy to carry and she knew it would be perfect for placing over the spot to deter any would-be burglars. Not that the boarding house where she lived had many people worth robbing.

She knelt and lifted the loose board, pulling out the small wooden box her older brother had carved for her.

Opening it, she ran her hands over the coins collected there, wondering if they were enough to obtain an inside seat on the mail coach as well as establish herself in a new place. I guess it depends on where I choose to go. The cost of transport is just as good a way to choose where to live as any.

She stifled a laugh. It was actually a mad way to decide where to settle, but since she had no knowledge of the southern part of the country and the north was too dangerous to her safety, she decided to call at the nearest coaching house before work the next day and ask about fares to coastal towns in the south.

Satisfied she had a plan, she touched the diamond broach that was her mother’s. She didn’t unwrap it from the neck cloth that used to belong to her brother. It was enough to feel it was still safely hidden away. “I will not have to sell you just yet. I hope anyway.”

She climbed back into her creaky old bed and willed herself to go to sleep. Worrying never helped anyone and the Lord knew she had been giving too much of herself to it. She kicked the quilt off as she suddenly was hot. Perhaps it was her being greatly troubled by the uncertainties of her life at the moment and nothing to do with the actual temperature.

When she rose, Jane broke her fast with a piece of bread then dressed in her prettiest gown. The promise of seeing her Captain made her smile. A smile tinged with sadness though as once he sailed again, she might never lay eyes on him again. In her mind, she knew it would be better. Her heart would hurt for a while, but she had face heartache before and knew she would survive.