Mrs. Smalltree's Folly: A Quirky Regency Romance

Even an eccentric lord is a good catch — especially if he's rich. So thinks Mrs. Smalltree. She is convinced she can get Allen St. George, visiting naturalist and wealthy lord, to marry her daughter, Pamela.But plain, poor cousin Harriet disapproves. Pammy is sixteen, and extremely shy. And there is another, far baser reason Harriet hopes Mrs. Smalltree's plans she's beginning to have feelings for Allen herself.A quirky Regency romance20,000 wordsExcerptNow he looked sheepish at her mention of travel. "Er, not exactly. I spotted him on the way. I do love a hedgehog!" He held it out carefully for her perusal. "There's so much we don't know about the world and the creatures in it. Even a humble hedgehog has secrets clutched tightly." He stroked fingers tenderly back over its little spines, and smiled fondly down at the indignant creature. "Can you spare some milk for him? I'll only study him for a bit and then let him go again. But sometimes they drink milk. I don't want him to starve."This artless announcement had the unintended effect of charming both girls utterly. It also gave poor awkward Pammy an escape route. "I shall go at once," she managed. She rose and hurried from the room, her cheeks pink. A gentleman who could spare attention for a little animal, and who was passionate about learning about the world, could not but be welcome here. As she strode away, she couldn't help feeling that it would be a wonderful visit after all. Harriet smiled affectionately at the hedgehog and then looked up to say something to the gentleman — she never afterwards remembered what — only to see him looking down anxiously into her face as if working out a bothersome puzzle."You're not really named Hortense, are you?"She laughed and straightened up, smoothing her skirts automatically. "No, indeed. It's Harriet. Sometimes they even call me Harry, you know, but it's never been Hortense before today." She rolled her eyes slightly. "I'm the poor relation.""Ah." He held out a hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, all the same."She shook his hand solemnly. It was slim and warm even through the glove, which was just a bit grubby."We have cats and dogs," she told him solemnly, looking into his gentle face. "If you're interested in them. And any amount of rodents, though I shouldn't say so, and insects and birds. There are acres of wildlife. We have badgers, and hawks, and all sorts of creatures." She hoped these delights would encourage him to stay.He didn't stand as tall as many gentlemen, who seemed to tower over women and look down at them. He was only slightly taller than she, who could be only considered of average height for a woman. He might, in a roomful of men, be one of the shortest present. And yet his size suited him well, like a small, clever bird of some sort, perfectly suited to its body, not awkward and long and unkempt like half-grown cattle, the way some young men were, always knocking things over and hunching in on themselves, or booming and strutting like peacocks. He fit his size perfectly.He did look young, although she couldn't guess his exact age. He seemed precise and kind and exactly what one would want in a gentleman if one could pick from a catalogue. This trait and that...this particular, gentle smile, and these pleasing gray eyes. And then there was the delightful aspect of his interest in nature and animals. It could only please a slightly unconventional woman...