Another snippet chosen at random from out of my gander bag, this time from The Shade on a Fine Day, the only Regency romance I’ve ever written and – incidentally – my only ghost story.
Benjamin nodded. “I wanted to enquire whether I had in some way offended you.” He kept his eyes fixed on the memorial. A robin sang from the yew hedge, the faint sound of organ music came from the church – the answer seemed to take forever to come.
“Mr. Swann, if I have in any way given you that impression, then I apologise unreservedly. I’m racking my brains to think of what I could have done…”
“My father’s walking stick. I was in Harmington yesterday, visiting a friend near the almshouses by St. Benedict’s. One of the residents was out in the lane, using that stick. It is quite unmistakable.”
William took a long look at the man beside him. Benjamin had a fine profile, featuring an elegant nose which was clearly a family trait. On his sister it looked too forceful – on him it gave an air of gravitas. “I didn’t realise it was your father’s. If I’d been aware of what it meant I wouldn’t have been so insensitive. I’m sorry if your sister was offended.”
“My sister? I’m not sure she even knows it’s gone.”