Hi everyone. Any of my comments or suggestions are just that: comments or suggestions. They are always given with respect and the hopes that they will be helpful. Keep Writing!

Title: {item:1327967, key 1416} (Lady Jessica)
Chapter: {entry:} (Chapter 1)
Author: {user: TimM}
Plot: I see Robin Hood, Maid Marian and Prince John as I read – on a more adult level. Pacing is good. Hooking is fine. Tension could be better. No confusion or questions.
Style & Voice: Please see below.
Referencing: Did not notice anything.
Scene/Setting: Pretty good.
Characters: Lady Jessica is no lady. (That she is a Lady is hard for me to conceive.) She is nimble and experienced with a knife, and her vocabulary is less that noble. She is young and healthy and fully aware of her capture’s manliness. For the moment, I don’t remember what she looks like but all the better for the imagination. I envision her like the leading feminine role in Pirate’s of the Caribbean across from Jack Sparrow – lots of spunk and headstrong regardless of conventions.

Jean Hardigan is evidently a well-built, healthy man. Who swears less than Lady Jessica. His character is introduced with a promise of becoming even more interesting.

The Earl of Clancy is well-defined.

Grammar: Very few grammar comments.
Just My Personal Opinion: As I noted above, Lady Jessica is no lady. This is only chapter one, and I am not sure just how far into the sexual arena this book is going to go, although my guess is pretty far, so for the moment, I see her unusually vulgar for a Lady. Perhaps vulgar is what you want. However, a true lady may pass her meaning on without vulgarization. See below. My suggestion, unless she is exactly the way you want her, is to keep the meaning of her dialogue while disguising it in the words of a true lady. I felt that she was more vulgar than Jean Hardigan. Or, he was more of a gentleman than she was a lady even though he was a rogue.

About five years ago, I went to a Diana Ross concert. Actually, I did not expect much. To me, she was old, so we would listen to a few tunes which we would vaguely remember. Boy was I wrong! She floated into the auditorium with such sensuality that she had us spellbound from the moment she arrived until the moment she left. Never did she do anything rude, but sensuality flowed from her like I have never seen before or since.


Lady Jessica by TimM

Chapter 1

The carriage bucked and clattered down the old Claiborne Road, the horses’ hooves raising clouds of red dust that swirled in the air. The flimsy window curtain flapped and fluttered, doing nothing to stop the grit that streamed in and coated every surface. Lady Jessica tried to hold a handkerchief to her mouth, but when the wheels dropped in a gully and bounced up the other side, she let go of the cloth and grabbed the door handle with both hands.

“Can you not slow down!” she shouted up to the driver, her head out the window and her eyes shut tight against the assault.

“Nay, my Lady. It’s three leagues before we’re through the Fen Woods, and I’ll not feel safe until we’re well past. Would not Hardigan like to get his hands on Lady Jessica Claiborne? Perhaps if you had agreed to the escort Clancy offered, our journey could have been more leisurely.”

She settled back in her seat, grumbling at the man. “Escort indeed,” she muttered. The thought of beginning her new life by proclaiming herself a weak and helpless woman, in need of protection from men below her in both station and skill, made her scowl. Besides, she thought, falling into the hands of the outlaw Hardigan might be preferable to the ugly fate that awaited her. Few men in the realm were as unsightly as the Earl of Clancy, a short, bald, red-faced wretch whose only qualities were a title and the wealth that went with it. And, of course, the power to choose his wife from among the eligible young women of noble birth scattered throughout the land.

She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to dwell on the few bright spots glowing amidst the darkness of her future. That she had been his choice was a delicious delicacy for the gossips of Claiborne. Speculation ran rampant on the extent of Clancy’s knowledge of Lady Jessica, and she herself still wondered. He surely knew of her beauty, for although they had not seen each other in two years, since her sixteenth birthday celebration, everyone in the land spoke of her magnificent flowering into womanhood. The question was whether the tale of her subsequent deflowering had reached his ears.

She hoped not. That was to be a special surprise. One of her few joys in the coming days would be his reaction when, on their wedding night, he discovered that his young bride lacked a certain notable feature of her anatomy. What would be the expression on his face when he found that he was not the first to enjoy her pleasures? That brought a smile. “Nor will he be the last to share my bed, I swear,” she declared, words that the clamor of their journey swallowed as fast as they left her mouth.

The carriage slowed. She pulled aside the useless curtain and stuck her head out the window. The dust from the two horses made it difficult to see ahead, but the dark outline of a man standing in the middle of the road soon appeared. The driver cracked his whip, and they surged forward.

Jessica’s breath caught in her throat. Moments ago she had laughed at the idea that Hardigan might be so bold as to waylay a carriage on the Claiborne Road. Now it seemed less funny.



Suggestion – “ Suddenly, the thought seemed less amusing.”




A shiver passed through her body as a worse thought took hold. Rumors were running wild that mercenaries from the vile city of Brundig had been kidnapping young men and women and selling them at the auctions. Slavers from across the East Sea would not dare venture so far inland, would they? She bit down on her lip, and the salty taste of blood filled her mouth.



I don’t really like the word “worse.” More unpleasant? Less pleasant? Unexpected?



“Halt!” The shouted command sounded close. The carriage raced on, bouncing her so high off the seat that her head smacked the roof of the cab. The crunch of splintering wood assaulted her ears, and they stopped with a violent lurch, throwing her off the seat and against the front wall. She gathered her skirt around her legs and situated herself on the tilting bench as best she could.

The door flew open, revealing a tall, ruddy-faced young man, his fists planted haughtily on his hips and his feet apart in a stance of defiance. His trademark deerskin jerkin, its buttons made of carved antler, left little doubt that this was Hardigan. Yet he didn’t look the part of the murderous outlaw his reputation implied. Rather, he seemed little more than an overgrown boy playing the part as a game. His eyes twinkled in merriment, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward, robbing his scowl of its power.
well said

“So, Lady Jessica Claiborne, now that we are face to face, I see that your beauty is even beyond what can be seen from afar.”

“And so, too, is your thievery. Take what you want, Jean Hardigan, and be gone.”

His lips widened into a hearty grin. “That, my lady, is exactly what I intend to do.” He extended his hand.

“What?” She drew back. “Where is my driver?”

He glanced to the side. “He’s in the ditch, shaking the dirt off his britches. Be glad he’s alive. That was a foolish thing he did, attempting to run me down. Surely he knows that a pike through the wheel spokes will stop any carriage.”

“Indeed, he’s a foolish man. I had to haul him out of the Lion’s Head and slap him sober before we could set forth today. But that’s no business of yours. Stand aside while we unhitch the horses so we may yet reach my Earl’s hold ere nightfall.”


Would an Earl really want to marry a Lady who would haul someone out of a tavern and slap him sober even if she was beautiful? Would the short fellow be afraid of such a domineering woman? What about his reputation?


“Hah! All you will reach ere nightfall is my humble abode.” He took her hand and gently, but with clear intent, pulled her toward the door.

She wrenched free. “How dare you! Clancy will steam your testicles for his dinner if you touch me again!”

Not really a suggestion, but rather an idea of a way you could still have her speak like a Lady and yet get her meaning across.

“You uncouth brute, how dare you touch me! When Clancy finishes with you, there shall be no dispute over any inheritance as he will have you relieved of your family jewels.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “So, your wit is as great as your beauty. And I see that you call your betrothed by his formal title rather than his name. Perhaps the name Percival does not roll off your tongue as easily as Clancy? Or are you loath to use the name by which you’ll call him when you share his bed? But see here, we waste time.” He leaned into the carriage, threaded one arm under her legs, the other around her back, and lifted her out.

“Unhand me!”

He let go, and she bolted up the road. He took his whip from its belt fastening, and with a gentle flick wrapped a good part of its length around her waist. She stared at him in shock.

“Lady Jessica, the next time you run from me, I’ll catch you by the feet and drag you to the ground. It would be a pity to dirty your fine clothes, would it not?”

He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and turned to the driver. “We’ll be off, now. Tell me, sir, do you value your head, and its most convenient position above your shoulders?”

The driver gulped and nodded.

“Then you will walk the rest of the way and inform Earl Percival Tandy of Clancy that his bride-to-be has been saved from an unworthy fate.”

He unhitched the trembling horses from their harness and stroked their necks. “Go!” he shouted at the driver. “What are you waiting for?”

The driver took off at a run.

“Come, My Lady,” Hardigan said, leading her by the hand to the smaller horse. “I know you are a more skilled rider than most men, but not more than me. Be assured that if you try to escape, you will not go far.” He put his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the horse’s bare back, handed her the reins, and mounted his own horse. “Follow me,” he commanded, and trotted into the forest.

“Hardigan!”

He turned his horse.

She pointed at his face, her hand quivering with anger. “I am the equal of any man, and better than most. You may still reconsider, and I’ll let you live.”


Would a Lady say that she is the equal of any man? Perhaps, she could say something of the order

“I have been riding since the age of five, and for years, none of my father’s men has ever been able to keep up with me, not even his finest (fastest?) knights (horsemen?). Release me, and I may show you clemency.”


“This I know. Nonetheless, the reward is worth the risk. Come.”

They rode until sunset, and further still. At first, she tried to memorize their path, but it took so many turns and forks that she soon lost track. The full moon hung high in the sky when they reached a cabin inside a small clearing. He dismounted and tied both horses. By the time he turned around to help her dismount, she was standing on the ground, brushing bristly horse hair from her dress.


Farther = distance
Further = extent
http://www.bernzilla.com/item.php?id=287
suggestion: change “further” to “farther”


“You are a most capable woman.”

“And you are a lecherous scoundrel.”

“Lechery is in the eyes of the beholder. We will see how you feel in the morning.”

She resisted the urge to slap him for his lewd suggestion, and followed him inside his cabin, trying to ignore the inner stirring that his words inspired.

His home was sparsely decorated, containing little more than cooking implements, several casks that might hold water or more potent drink, and an assortment of rough-hewn furnishings. He pushed open a door to reveal a tiny bedroom. Handing her an oil lamp, he indicated a deerskin jerkin and trousers hanging on the wall. “Go in there and change. You wouldn’t want to dirty your lovely garments.”

She squinted at the clothes hanging on the wall, noting that they were much too small to fit her captor. “You were confident that you could abduct me, to have clothing of my size prepared.”

He laughed. “I succeed in my every endeavor. You are angry now, but think upon where you were bound, and the man whose bed you were to share until the end of your days. You will see, the life I offer you is sweet in comparison. If you please, Lady Jessica, I am not mad. I ask only a fair chance to win your love.”

“In truth?” She gave him a mocking smile. “Do you dream that I will love a man who steals me from my carriage and holds me prisoner? You must think yourself a luscious delicacy, a truffle that tempts me beyond reason. Are you so delicious? Can you prove yourself?” She glided to him, slipping one arm around his waist and up his back, while her other hand rested on his hip. A strand of his straight black hair brushed her cheek, and she blew it away.


Suggestion – change “steals” to “kidnaps”


Touching her nose to his in a teasing caress, she inserted her thumb under the flap covering his knife. In one smooth motion she drew the blade and pressed its point into his back beside his spine. “Shall we have a contest? You attempt to break from my embrace as quickly as you can, and the moment I feel you move, I attempt to tickle your heart with this blade. Which of us do you suppose will win?”


Suggestion – find something better than “beside his spine. I don’t know, maybe “between his ribs,” or “its point menacing his kidney.”


He answered with a smile, and his eyes betrayed no hint of fear. “You are a woman brimming with surprises.”

“You have no idea.”

“Ah, but I do have one. I tell you that the next time an instrument of stabbing comes between us, it will press between your legs rather than into my back. Does that not sound more enjoyable, Jessica?”

She stepped away, cradling the knife in her palm. “My title is Lady Jessica. You will address me in that manner.”

He bowed his head, a cocky grin on his face. “My apologies, Lady.”

Her wrist flicked, and the knife embedded itself in the floor between his feet. “I wish to eat dinner. I will now change.”

“Yes, Lady. I will prepare your dinner. Please inform me when you are ready.” He plucked the knife from the floor, tossed it in the air and caught it, and turned his back on her.

She retreated to her room, glancing over her shoulder before closing the door. He had extracted a haunch of smoked meat from the cabinet and was attacking it with his knife. He’ll be a worthy opponent, she thought. Taming the outlaw Hardigan would be no easy task, but a vastly more pleasurable contest than battling with Percival, Earl of Clancy, a man already so tamed by food and drink that he was little more than a flatulent slug. She stroked her hair and recalled the brigand’s forest-green eyes dancing before her face as their noses touched. A worthy lover as well, if it should come to that.


Suggestion – change “meat” to something more specific “deer” or “boar”?



One by one, she pulled the lacings of her bodice through the eyelets until she could peel the wretched garment from her body. She let it fall to the floor, followed by two layers of underclothes. The arrogance of that villain, she thought, to steal her from her carriage and set her on a horse like she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. That would be the first thing to set right.


Suggestion – change “steal” to “abduct”
Suggestion – change “on a horse like she was” to “on a horse as if she were.”


Her vision fell on a huge keyhole in the door, and she caught her breath. Was he watching? What kind of a worthless wretch would spy on a lady changing? She was bare as the day she was born, her every item of clothing scattered on the floor. She ran to the door and peered through the keyhole.


Suggestion – change “…item of clothing scattered…” to something more like “She was as bare as the day she was born with her silk and lace finery crumpled at her feet.”
My ideas go along with my image of a sexually healthy Lady rather than a low-class whore. Once again, this may be the image that you are looking for.


He was not watching. He was, in fact, standing with his back to her, naked in front of a wash basin. She had never seen a more muscular man, though she realized she should not be surprised. He must have been strong, to be able to lift her above his head and place her on the horse with no more effort than if he were lifting a child. Her heart pounded. As he moved, splashing water on his body and rubbing it clean, muscles rippled beneath his flesh. She watched, mesmerized, while he washed every part of his body, from head to toe.


My ideas go along with my image of a sexually healthy Lady rather than a low-class whore. Once again, this may be the image that you are looking for.

You could write something more sensuous and still have the meaning you are looking for.

“She held her breath, her heart quickening as he carefully washed each tantalizing part of his body, starting with his gorgeous head with its appetizing mouth, sensually descending his hands to caress his inviting torso, then ever so slowly down to his buttocks, lingering only a moment before proceeding to his calves and even the soles of his feet”



“How are you progressing?” he called out.

“I am doing well.”

He lifted a clean pair of leather trousers from a hook on the wall and stepped into them, pulling them up. She was about to turn away and fetch her own clothes when she stopped. With his trousers halfway up his legs, he had paused to stare at her door. She had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see right through it to her nakedness, though she knew this was impossible. Could he see the glint of her eye at the keyhole, and know that she was watching him? Surely, his eyesight was not that keen.


Just thoughts – her upbringing made her cringe at the thought of getting caught while the fire of desire ignited in her loins (?) (and made her hope she would be.)



With a sudden grunt, Hardigan pulled his trousers up the rest of the way and turned back to the counter where he continued hacking at the venison. Jessica leaned against the door and closed her eyes, summoning the memory of what she had just seen. As the images played in her head, a tension in her gut grew until it threatened to consume her consciousness. “No,” she whispered to herself. “He will not have that power over me. No man ever will.”

She stepped away from the door, crossed the tiny room, and leaned back against the far wall. Try as she might, she couldn’t banish the thoughts that swirled in her mind, especially the memory of his eyes as their gazes met in their nose-to-nose embrace. What mysteries lay within the depths of the outlaw Hardigan? That, she vowed, she would learn, even as she plotted her escape.

Note for me: When was the nose-to-nose embrace?



A knock came at the door. “Lady Jessica,” Hardigan called