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manniness“I envy you, little sister.”
Alice looks up from the embroidery she’s currently butchering. Normally, she wouldn’t have had any patience for it, but as she’d agreed to spending the afternoon with Margaret and Margaret seems to enjoy the domestic torture...
“I’m sorry? What?”
Margaret sighs heavily and, lowering the fabric and needle to her lap, confesses, “Tarrant. I envy you him.”
Alice blinks at her. “I... you... Why would you say that?” For, as surely as Alice knows the sun rises over Mamoreal from Witzend and sets in Queast, she knows that Margaret would never long for – let alone allow! – an impoverished man with wild eyebrows and long hair and a tradesman’s hands to touch her. It’s not vanity or discrimination, Alice believes. It’s simply that Margaret has only ever had an interest in her own kind. And, if there’s one thing Alice has learned from a lifetime of being compared to her older sister, it’s that Margaret is a Lady. And the proper companion for a lady is a gentleman. Which Alice is very thankful Tarrant is not.
“I’m sorry, Alice!” Margaret whispers and Alice sees tears of shame in her sister’s eyes. “I didn’t mean... I don’t...” She stops, takes a deep breath, controls herself. “I meant, I envy your marriage. It’s... it’s a marriage of substance and I wish... I wish Lowell would... would just once speak to me as if... as if...!”
“As if you have at least one interesting thought in your head,” Alice suggests, reaching across the space between their chairs and grasping her sister’s hand.
The tears return and Margaret only nods.
Alice reaches for a handkerchief – one of several she now keeps in her handbag and gently dabs the tumbling tears from her sister’s face. Margaret smiles her thanks and, her gaze darting to the bright blue handkerchief, releases a sobbing laugh.
“There, you see, Alice!” she nearly shouts. “This is exactly my point! Those aren’t your handkerchiefs – I’ve noticed Tarrant handing them to you before. They’re his and he gave them to you, didn’t he? Knowing you’d be away with me and you might need them and he wouldn’t be here himself to offer them to you and do you have any idea what I would give to receive even half that regard from Lowell?”
Alice rubs her sister’s shoulder and does her best to catch as many tears as she can. “Oh, Margaret. You were happy with him once, weren’t you? What happened?” Although, Alice thinks she already knows.
Margaret hiccups and wrestles once again for control. “Winslow happened. My beautiful son... after he was born, Lowell started... or, no, actually I don’t believe that! He no longer bothered to keep his affairs from me. That man makes a mockery of our marriage. Humiliates me with his philandering! Everyone is aware of it! And they probably laughed at me long before I ever suspected!”
Alice hides a wince. I should have told her about that scene at the engagement party...
Yes, she should have.
Damn you, Lowell, for forcing that decision on me.
Yes, she should have told Margaret, but would she have believed her then? Probably not.
“With an heir to the Manchester name, he doesn’t need me anymore,” she says. “It was all a lie, anyway. He never wanted me. He never even wanted to be married. That’s not so much to ask for, is it? For a husband to care for his wife, to want to be married to her?”
Alice shakes her head. “No, no, it’s not an unreasonable request at all. In fact, I’d say it’s your right to expect that.”
Margaret swallows thickly. “We always want what we can never have...”
Alice hesitates to ask the question she knows she has to. No one else will ask it and Margaret desperately needs to Face it. After a moment of awkward silence, she does: “What will you do, dear sister? Will you leave him? Divorce...?”
Margaret emphatically shakes her head. “No. No, I won’t. I won’t do that to you and mother.”
“Margaret, don’t use us and an excuse to delay finding your own happiness. You know I don’t care about what’s proper! And you know mother will support you in your decision, whatever it is! I’ve no doubt she wishes she could have spoken to you about this herself, but you know she can’t. She’s our mother, after all. I’m your rebellious devil-may-care sister, so I can say whatever I please!”
There’s a hysterical note in Margaret’s helpless laughter. Alice smiles for her and waits for her to calm down.
When she does, her sister whispers, “Even if I wanted to... end it, how could I? Winslow...”
Yes, Winslow would stay with his father. Alice is sure the man would never release his son and heir. And, certainly, his family would never permit it even if Lowell himself had no interest in the boy. In fact, Alice is almost completely sure he doesn’t. She’s never seen him touch the child at all, not to pick him up, not to play with him, not to kiss his brow or soothe his tears. No, Winslow is Margaret’s son. Lowell had simply been contracted labor on the part of his conception. It’s quite obvious to Alice that the man believes his job is Done.
Alice sighs. “I hate this place. These rules and restrictions.”
Margaret turns and gawks, utterly gob smacked. “Alice, don’t say such things! This is our home!”
And, however fleeting the thought of inviting her sister to Underland may have been, it no longer matters. It dies, unexplored, unvoiced, in that very moment.
“It’s not Society’s fault I’m trapped in this loveless marriage, that my husband shames me, that he treats me as if I’m a nothing more than a fixture of this house! I did this to myself, Alice. I saw what I wanted to see in him.” Margaret sighs. “I almost wish I’d never found out. I wonder how long the dream could have lasted if I hadn’t. Or if I’d borne a daughter first before Winslow...”
“Those aren’t very helpful thoughts to be having,” Alice gently scolds her. “What’s done is done. Now you have to think of Winslow. And, I’m sorry to say this, Margaret, but Lowell isn’t much of a father to him, and he needs one.”
Margaret nods, her shoulders slumping in dejection. “I know. I’d ask Lowell’s father to spend more time with him except...”
Alice sighs right along with her this time. “Yes, I know.” The man obviously hadn’t had much of a hand in his own son’s upbringing, not with the veritable empire he’d built out of what had once been a modest family business.
“If only papa were...”
Alice feels tears come to her own eyes at that. “Don’t, Margaret,” she manages through the painful tightening of her own throat. She wants to say more, to beg her sister not to torture both of them with such thoughts, but she can’t.
“I’m sorry.”
Alice nods.
The clock ticks. They sniffle and soak Tarrant’s borrowed handkerchiefs in tears. And when it seems like the morning has been completely ruined beyond repair, Margaret sits up and takes a deep breath.
“Well, this is getting maudlin. Come with me, Alice. There was a reason I asked you over today.”
Curious and still dabbing at escaping tears, Alice follows Margaret out of the small sunroom and into the parlor. Margaret smiles as she picks up a wicker basket and sets it on the sofa. Alice joins her.
“What’re those?”
Margaret lifts out the tiniest baby bunting Alice has ever seen. “Winslow’s baby clothes,” she says. “I thought you could use them... I know you and Tarrant don’t have much money with you...”
Alice doesn’t even have the presence of mind to search for something to say out of gratitude. Instead, she idiotically observes, “They’re so... small.”
Margaret laughs. “It certainly doesn’t feel like it when they’re on their way into the world!”
Alice hears a small, frantic snort and assumes she must have been the one to make it. However, her attention is focused on a boot. A little fur boot. For an impossibly small foot. Hands shaking, she reaches for it and lifts it and its partner from the neat stack.
“For winter,” Margaret explains unnecessarily.
Alice nods, feeling the burn of tears again. “It’s... so... so...”
Dear Fates, her and Tarrant’s child – their child, still within her – will wear this tiny, precious, unbelievably sweet pair of boots to keep tiny toes warm from the chill and tiny ankles from getting chapped by the wind and tiny shins from becoming...
“Alice? Are you all right?”
And then it’s Margaret’s turn to hold the handkerchief to her sister’s cheek.
“I’m—sorry—Margaret—I don’t—know—what’s wrong—with me?!” she sobs.
And of course, as that’s the moment when Alice is most decidedly Not Together and her emotions are scattered and floundering like fish out of water, the front door opens and a voice calls out, “Hello? I hope it’s all right that we’ve let ourselves in!”
Brangergain i’tall! Hamish.
“Alice?!”
And Tarrant. Naturally. Well and truly, thoroughly panicking from her sudden loss of Control.
“We’re in here!” Margaret calls too helpfully. Alice wishes she had the fortitude to summon a glare at her.
But then it’s too late to bother with it because Tarrant fairly runs into the room. And Alice feels a stab of panic-relief-confusion! from him before he’s there, wrapping her in his arms. And, useless fool that she is, she clutches the pair of fur boots and sobs onto his shoulder.
“Alice? Wha’s th’matter, lass?!”
“N-n-nothing!” she babbles.
“It’s only the boots,” Margaret supplies as Hamish walks into the room.
“Wha’ boots? Alice? Is there sommat wrong wi’yer boots, love?” He leans over to inspect her feet.
Marshalling herself, Alice thumps the little fur boots against his chest. “Th-these b-b-boots!”
He blinks at them, a puzzled frown pulling at his brows. “I’m sorry, Alice, but I fear even I can’t adjust those to fit you. Not with the size you’re currently at. They’re far, far too small for your right-proper-Alice–”
And whatever composure she’d managed to gather is dashed to bits at the reminder of how small and helpless and precious these boots are and their child will be!
“What in the name of the queen is going on in here? Alice? Are you all right?”
“Of course she is!” Alice hears her sister reply. “She’s expecting. She’s allowed to marvel at the miracle of life!”
“The miracle of...!” There’s a slight pause and then Hamish blusters, “You gave Hightopp a right scare, Alice! Now calm yourself before the man loses his mind with worry! And here we thought you were upset over something important.”
Margaret, bless her, comes to her little sister’s rescue. “Important? Important, Hamish? What could be more important that realizing one’s a part of bringing new life into the world?”
Hamish flounders.
Alice barks out a laugh, which, oddly enough helps her get her tears under control. She leans away from Tarrant and laughs. “Boots for our Hightopp,” she informs him, holding them up properly.
Tarrant’s suddenly misty-eyed stare as he looks at the little shoes in her grasp nearly sends her into an over-emotional bout of insanity... again.
However, he manfully blinks back his own tears and, looking up, smiles. “I like ‘em!”
He says nothing about their size or how they will fit their child or the important role they will play during winter... and for that, Alice damns convention, wraps her arms around his shoulders and kisses him in her sister’s parlor.
“Now,” Alice says decisively, knowing that Tarrant will never allow her to apologize for crying on his jacket, “What did you and Hamish do while you were out?”
“Yes,” Margaret says. “Let’s have some tea and then you boys can tell us all about your manly activities that have nothing whatsoever to do with babies.”
Tarrant giggles.
Hamish narrows his blue eyes at him. “Don’t say it, Hightopp. I forbid you.”
“So sorry! Must! Alice must know!” he snorts out, shaking with laughter.
“I must know what?” she demands, looking from her husband to Hamish and then back again.
“We bought a bassinet,” he whispers out in a high-pitched voice just this side of insane cackling.
“A bassinet? Whatever for?”
He sighs and gives her a long-suffering Look.
“No, I meant, why so soon? We’ve months yet.” Over three of them, if she’s counted correctly.
“Perhaps I was merely attempting to be productive.”
“Was fencing not?”
He snorts. “Fencing. The most utterly useless, senseless, nonsensical...!” He sighs and gives her a wry smile. “You will realize exactly how much I love you once you are able to permit me to teach you this... custom.”
“I can hardly wait!” She grins back, delighted.
“Yes, let’s tell Alice how very much you enjoy contradicting the instructor and then stomping on my toes, Hightopp. Very sportsmanlike of you.”
Tarrant doesn’t deny it.
Alice laughs.
Hamish harrumphs.
Margaret pats his shoulder. “Let’s get that tea on, then.”
Hamish glances down at her hand in the instant before she pulls away. “While the offer is very welcome, madam, I’m afraid I must be following Hightopp’s example – just this once!” he asserts with a mild glare in Tarrant’s direction. “– and attempt to accomplish something... productive this afternoon.”
Alice is a little surprised by the fact that Tarrant suddenly straightens. His green eyes narrow as he examines Hamish in contemplative silence.
“Well,” Margaret replies, ignorant of Tarrant’s sudden change in mood. “Far be it from me to attempt to waylay a gentleman on a mission. I’ll see you out.”
“Thank you, madam.” He turns toward Tarrant and Alice. “Will you borrow the Manchester carriage to get home or...?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Alice tells him. “The Kingsleigh carriage should be coming around on the hour.”
“Ah. Very good. Until Friday, Hightopp.”
“I look forward to it, Ascot,” Tarrant replies amiably but with a sly grin tickling the corner of his mouth.
Alice waits until her sister and Hamish have moved out of the room and down the hall. “What is it?” she asks him.
“Something productive,” Tarrant replies.
“What about it?”
“I suggested that very course of action to him earlier today.”
“Did you? How is that odd?” she asks for, by the look on his face, he had most assuredly not expected Hamish to seriously consider the suggestion at all.
“Because, Raven,” he answers, giving her a delighted yet slithy-mad smile, “I made it in reference to your sister and her... unfortunate choice of spouse.”
Alice feels her mouth drop open as Comprehension begins to dawn. First in lime green, then buttercup yellow, and then blushing rose...
She chokes, “You... you...”
And at the sound of the front door closing, Alice finds coherency and whispers urgently. “You don’t think he’d do anything... rash would you?”
“Out of my presence? I certainly hope not! I’ve been rather looking forward to seeing how Rashness suits him!”
“Tarrant!” she hisses.
His brows arc and his expression morphs into the epitome of Innocence. “Yes, love?”
Alice sighs through a grin that’s quickly becoming one of Wonder. “You are Mad.”
He giggles. “I’m glad to hear you say so, my Alice. Very glad!”
“Oh dear,” she muses. “I’m afraid we’ve made a rhyme.”
And when Margaret steps back into the room, she’s greeted with the sight of her sister and brother-in-law knee-deep in tears of helpless mirth on her sofa with a pair of baby’s winter boots still held in their hands between them.
Alice imagines they must be quite the sight if Margaret’s teary smile is anything to go by.
*~*~*~*
Notes:
1. A BIG Thank You to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
wanderamaranth for sharing her research on divorce in the Victorian Era with me! Actually, in the event of a divorce, Margaret might be awarded custody of her son (because he’s under the age of seven) but I decided that, in a legal battle and with no male representation (i.e., Charles Kingsleigh) to back Margaret, the Manchesters would probably be able to take custody of Winslow. It’s half Artistic License and half pessimistic realism on my part.
2. The part with the little baby booties was inspired by broomclosetkink . Here's your request, sweetie! (^__~)b
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no subject
Date: 2010-08-09 02:17 am (UTC)You just made my whole night, Manny! And it was so wonderfully done - where it really kicks in, and it was sweet and giggle worthy and kind of brought on the tears. But you know me, I'm a crier. ;)
Margaret is breaking my heart. D: Poor woman. Lowell is a right bastard, and I'd love to get my hands on him. >:D
HAMISH! OH, I LOVE YOU, HAMISH!
Can I just go ahead and start shipping Margaret/Hamish? I mean, there can be a terrible hunting accident or something...;)
I love this chapter! Er, second half.
I'm on pins and needles waiting for the littlin'! *more rapture* Baby!!
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Date: 2010-08-09 02:26 am (UTC)I'd hoped that I managed to capture the scene the way you'd imagined it when you suggested it (waaaaay back in the reply-comment you posted in Chapter 3).
Yeah, I'm kinda falling in love with Hamish, too. Totally not my type, but he's Worthy!
Poor Margaret. Yes, I know EXACTLY what you mean!
No comment on the 'shipping. Don't want to ruin anything! (^__~)
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Date: 2010-08-09 02:45 am (UTC)Lowell had simply been contracted labor on the part of his conception. *cough*spermdonor*cough*
Margaret giving Alice all of Winslow's old baby clothing is a wonderful stroke here as well...it can say a few different things, 1. being that she simply knows her sister is not as well off as her and Lowell, which would be true, or 2. it can be interpreted as her resolve to not have another child (with Lowell, at least? *snicker*) and therefore having no further use for the clothing she was hanging onto except for perhaps sentimental value. Or perhaps a combination of both?
And why do I get the feeling that this: Alice is a little surprised by the fact that Tarrant suddenly straightens. His green eyes narrow as he examines Hamish in contemplative silence.
was at least partially triggered by this: Hamish glances down at her hand in the instant before she pulls away.
in addition to the conversation Tarrant must have had with Hamish? Clever!Tarrant for the win!
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Date: 2010-08-09 03:04 am (UTC)I love your interpretation of Margaret donating Winslow's old clothes. Those are precisely the reasons why I think she does it. Of course, she'll keep the most precious clothes of Winslow's (like his Chirstening gown or whatnot) forever, but regular play clothes she's willing to donate to her sister's child. And Alice accepts because 1. they are running low on funds, 2. they can't explain the sudden appearance of mountains of baby clothes (from Mamoreal), and 3. Tarrant can't make mountains of baby clothes because he'd need to buy fabic (and with what money?) SO. Lots of "stuff" in that little scene there.
OH. MY. GOD. I forgot about the medieval handkerchief "token-of-my-regards" thing! *gapes* HOW DID I MISS THAT REFERENCE? (Have I told you how much I love you?? You dissect my brain so skillfully and beautifully!!)
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Date: 2010-08-09 03:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 01:15 pm (UTC)The #3 in your listing of Reasons for Donated Baby Clothes gave me the mental picture of Tarrant sneaking around, making clothing out of old scraps of fabric in the house. Dishcloth vests and the like. lol
He could convert some of Alice's old childhood clothes (that I believe you mentioned were still in her drawers way back in Ch. 2 or 3??) into some clothing for their child, but then again, he might not have the time, in between his fencing lessons (*snigger*) and dealing with a Hormonal Pregnant Woman.
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Date: 2010-08-10 01:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-10 01:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-12 05:14 am (UTC)But I just had to say: I started shipping Hamish and Margaret in the first part of this and now I won't have it any other way ;)
Also, shame on you for making me laugh so loudly when my husband is asleep and has to get up in four hours. You really had the funny switch turned on for this chapter. You were killing me.
I will be back tomorrow with a charged battery and a multitude of comments.
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Date: 2010-08-12 05:58 am (UTC)Yeah, Hamish and Margaret = too cute for words. I'll do my best not to disappoint on that front, although the characters are still chattering away at me, so anything could happen at this point.
I made you laugh too loudly and at such Inopportune Moments because I am Evil. My husband has irrefutable proof of this squirreled away somewhere. Now here's some more! (^__^) Heh...heh...heh...!
I shall look forward to the Return of the Reviewer, then!
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Date: 2010-08-12 06:12 am (UTC)No idea about whether it's artistic licence or not in Aiden's books but it is fun to watch Darcy trounce people, even if it is with a useless foil that can't Foil anything. Still a good read, comes off very realistic.
*Throws Praise Confetti* Don't stop. Need more. It's tooth-rottingly sweet. Can't wait to see where Life takes them next. ^.~
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Date: 2010-08-12 06:57 am (UTC)Hamish, Margaret, Alice, and Tarrant = pure Awesome. I love those guys. (^__~)
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Date: 2010-08-12 04:20 pm (UTC)Oh the emotional draw of baby clothes...I used to have a cartoon in college from the New Yorker taped to my computer of a woman with a new baby explaining to her friend that she had thought she wanted a baby, but now she realized she only wanted baby clothes. There is something that really pulls a person towards those tiny little items, no? They have the futterwacken and now they have these little clothes to make it all seem very Real.
Margaret's giving away the clothes also seemed rather final. No more Lowell. No more babies.
Then, I have no idea why this so appealed to me, but: “A bassinet? Whatever for?”
He sighs and gives her a long-suffering Look.
I could *see* that face and it made me giggle. You have written Tarrant so well that he is literally alive and pulling faces in this fic that jump right off the screen.
So, I hope Margaret can be helped. I hope Hamish can have his Moment. The hand on the arm and glance made me convinced of the pairing if I wasn't already, but they do have minds of their own, these characters. I know I can trust you with Alice & Tarrant, so I won't concern myself about where you're taking them ;) I'll just look forward to it.
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Date: 2010-08-12 04:32 pm (UTC)Yes, Margaret is asserting control over her life the only way she can, I think, in giving away the baby clothes she won't need anymore.
I'm actually constantly fighting with myself over Tarrant's character. "He's not muchy enough!" I'll think. Or: "He's not Mad enough!" So, to read how Distinct he is and how Alive to you... well, it means A Lot. Thank You.
Yes, trust me. There will be angst - I think - but there will be a solution. I've debated this with the hubby: Hollywood ending or realism? And I think I've arrived at a satisfactory option. You'll have to let me know if I'm kidding myself with that, though! (When we get There, that is.)
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Date: 2010-08-12 09:16 pm (UTC)Sooo looking forward to the next chapter. :)
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Date: 2010-08-12 11:52 pm (UTC)Yes, we will find out about his "productiveness" in the next chapter. I still have some details to iron out, though so please bear with me for a bit!
And, as always, thank you so much for leaving a comment!
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Date: 2010-08-13 12:08 am (UTC)Woot! I can have patience, I promise! *goes off to re-read book one*
Oh, and you're quite welcome. :)
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Date: 2010-08-13 07:55 pm (UTC)OK…I’m sorry I have to point it out. It’s the beta in me. I think it’s suppose to be “Tarrant. I envy you and him.” All right, now back to our regularly scheduled review.
LOL, I love how Alice can’t use a thread and a needle. (What a contrast to Tarrant, eh? LOL)
Yup, Tarrant is every woman’s dream man. He’s sweet, he’s doting, he’s kind. (Oh and did I mention very easy on the eyes? LOL)
The way you explained the breakdown of Margaret and Lowell’s marriage was played out really well. And thank you for not suddenly making Margaret a women of the 21st century who is going to walk out on Lowell This Very Second. I like how you have kind of hinted that maybe she considered the idea, but is too afraid to move beyond the realm of what is proper. And Alice, as always with her rebelliousness, is beyond fantastic.
Awwww, the giving of baby booties! Does that mean that we know that the little one is a boy? Did I miss that in one of my late-night-binge-reading-sessions? Dude, that will stop me from reading at 11 o’clock at night.
And Alice is perfectly emotional here. Though, I worry about poor Tarrant when Alice goes through her post-partum blues. They are absolutely, incredibly awful. I remember a few days after I had Keira, Mike came up to me and asked me if I wanted McDonald’s or Burger King for lunch. I remember the sheer Panic at the idea that I would have to make such a Difficult decision, I burst out crying. Mike, the poor guy, just stood there and froze for a second, then gave me a hug and held me while I cried, assuring me he would pick out what was for lunch.
Same thing happened after I had Autumn. Keira was watching Toy Story 2 and the song when Jessie is giving her backstory starting playing and I started sobbing, no, I mean Sobbing. My mom was there and she looked so panicked and turned off the DVD. (Normally, I’m pretty easy going and never cry. Now we all laugh at what happened…LOL) Fortunately for me, I had about a week of terrible sadness and then it was over. I know a lot of women suffer through it a lot longer. So someone better give poor Tarrant a warning, LOL
And, um, Margaret and Hamish? Dude, where I have I been? I guess that means a re-read of the story is in order. (But, I’m going to start from the beginning of book 1 and relish the story (with reviews of epic size). Surely by the time I’m done reading Book 3, you’ll be starting Book 4...right? Manny? Hello?)
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Date: 2010-08-13 11:36 pm (UTC)Oh, that envy thing. Uhm, actually, I was going for a slightly different nuance with that. As in "I envy you your wonderful life" where "your wonderful life" is the objct of the envy. Alice has Tarrant. In Margaret's first attempt at explaining herself, she says, basically, "I wish I had your man" (I envy you him) but then she changes it to "I wish I had a marriage like yours" (I envy your marriage.) Perhaps it sounds better out loud and looks weird written down...
No, Margaret is defnitely a woman of the times. She's a little more tollerant because of her "crazy" sister, but she's not a suffragette. Not at all.
We don't know if the baby will be a boy or a girl yet. I haven't given out any hints on that front. (*I* know, of course, because I am God of OPK, but anyway...) Baby clothes - even for the wrong sex - would be useful and Margaret is practical enough to see that. Also, I think she really wants an excuse to make it "final" to herself that she's not going to be giving Lowell any more children.
Oh, post-partum... wow, I hadn't scheduled that into the story. Dang it. You're consipiring to makes this beast longer! STOP IT, WOMAN!!
(But you know I still love you!)
Margaret and Hamish... it's waaaaay subtle and mostly on Hamish's side at this point. Don't feel like you missed something big. You haven't. But I'll get into that development soon.
Thank you AGAIN for another Unbelievable review!!! \(^o^)/
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Date: 2010-08-14 12:33 am (UTC)And no, you did fine. It was just me reading it the wrong way. I think I am betaing too many stories right now. LOL
OK, glad I didn't miss anything re: the baby's sex. And, Dude, the idea that Margaret is giving the baby clothes away b/c she's not going to be having any more kids with Lowell is totally heavy. (Wow, talk about a Back to the Future reference...)
Why, yes, yes I am. BAHAHAHAHAHA! Seriously though, it would be, ahem, awesome if you mentioned it, even if we don't get a full-on Alice scene dealing with hormone issues. (But, hey, if you want to write it...BY ALL MEANS GO AHEAD.)
Well, subtle is a good thing. It makes me want to go back and reread what little clues I might have missed. :D
And, you are so welcome, chickie! This story deserves them all! :D :D
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Date: 2010-08-14 12:58 am (UTC)OK, don't feel bad or anything for pointing out typos (or potential typos) because I hunt the little boggletogs like there's no tomorrow and I WILL FIND YOU ALL!!!!
*ahem*
And, besides, you Beta-ing for other people gives you Serious Goodness Points in my book. Usually, I'm too lazy/selfish/wrapped up in my own stuff to be that generous. So, Go You, Girl!
Well, enjoy re-reading! One of these days, I should get around to doing that, too! I originally wrote OPK for *me* and I've only read it a couple of times so far! The INJUSTICE!!
But, no, really. It's all good. (^__~)b
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Date: 2010-08-14 03:25 am (UTC)Well, betaing isn't exactly a selfless thing. I love to read the stories before everyone else. HA HA HA. So, maybe it's not so noble. LOL
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Date: 2010-08-14 05:05 am (UTC)What was that? You think I'm being pushy? I'm not pushy...I'm a fangirl Wanting more is what we do, LOL.
And knowing that you rarely beta and yet you're willing to help me out makes me that much more appreciative. (And I thought I had reached the pinnacle of that when you first offered!)
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Date: 2010-08-15 04:31 am (UTC)...right, I shall not start a thesis on that now, when I have E and F and G to ponder.
The booties!!! The hormones!!! yes...I have PTSD....flashbacks...NO THE CRADLE IS TOO LARGE!!!
...Sorry. :P Lovely chapter dear, now I should really be off with my dictionary and alphabets. Thank you for the inspiration!
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Date: 2010-08-15 05:18 am (UTC)And I'm so very glad I did volunteer to Beta your latest Alice fiction. It's phenomenonal!! (^__^)b
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Date: 2010-08-15 05:19 am (UTC)Trust me on the divorce issue. (Yes, Research was done!) I'll keep things as Realistic yet interesting as possible... without depressing everyone. (^__~)
no subject
Date: 2010-08-16 12:31 am (UTC)*passes out*
*regains consciousness and rereads*
*passes out again*
*finally regains consciousness again, picks appropriate icon*
I'm sorry, did you imply there is a possibility there will be a Book 4? Because, Dude, I'm so there.
(And if your Muse needs a bribe, please don't hesitate to ask)
And thank you :D :D Your comments/suggestions have been enormous in helping me out. :D
*goes back to writing*
no subject
Date: 2010-08-16 08:32 am (UTC)I just outlined stupid Book 4. I have no life. Want no life. Will get no life for the foreseeable future.
Gah!
( _ _ )
*%&#!@SPLAT-HEADDESK*&%$!@
But, seriously. I have Book 3 to finish first. *glares at Chapter 19*
And I'm obsessively checking my inbox for the Next Version of the You-Know-What!! *wink wink nudge nudge*
no subject
Date: 2010-08-16 02:44 pm (UTC)Uh oh, got Muse trouble? *gets out pointy stick* I can help with that, if you need. BAHAHAHAHA!
It's coming! It's coming! *fears your pointy stick*
no subject
Date: 2010-09-18 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-03 10:32 pm (UTC)This part - He blinks at them, a puzzled frown pulling at his brows. “I’m sorry, Alice, but I fear even I can’t adjust those to fit you. Not with the size you’re currently at. They’re far, far too small for your right-proper-Alice–”
LOL! Hilarious! That is SO Tarrant! Jump to the conclusion that she wants them altered for her! ROFL! But, when he feels his beloved panic, I suppose he would think that and latch on to the first thing that he thinks is the cause of her distress.
I'm glad Margaret seems to be coming to terms with her and Lowell's lack of a real marriage and that she understands and takes responsibility for her own Choices.
Her and Hamish - a wish of mine! They could well be perfect for each other! I actually forgot the conversation that Tarrant and he had about being "productive" so I'll need to review. But I really enjoyed this chapter immensely. And by the end, I was touched that Tarrant and Alice and laughing together. So sweet!
But one line seems just slightly off -
“Far be it from me to attempt to waylay a gentleman on a mission.
Should that be "Far be it "for" me?"
But, wow, I get the idea that pregnant women do indeed cry and have the wildest thoughts! Poor Tarrant will be enduring a LOT thru his heart-line, I wager. Especially the birth! I can't wait for that. :)
no subject
Date: 2010-12-04 06:26 am (UTC)I googled "Far be it from me" and, according to the Internet, that's the one I should be using in this instance. Of course, we ALL know that EVERYTHING on the Internet can be trusted to be absolutely true. (^__~)
no subject
Date: 2010-12-04 07:57 am (UTC)Anyway, just had to fangirl squeal a bit. And I'll tell everyone in writing who may ever see this in the future...
Never NOT read OPK because you're afraid of a baby! I've been dumb and fell FAR behind because I was a chicken. I now regret it. But the upside is that I get so MUCH more to read all at once now! :)
no subject
Date: 2010-12-04 04:33 pm (UTC)I'm glad to see that you trust me again! Heh heh.