It goes and it goes.
Word Count: 20,323 / ~98,000? I’m getting verbose and some of that will have to get cut down or moved around.
Listening to: snoring cats and falling rain
Reading: The Theatre of Shelley, by Jacqueline Mulhallen
Reason for Stopping: Chapter break, moving to some fic writing for a brain break.
Things Researched: Annual salaries for Georgian staymakers, seating arrangements in small theaters, popular perfume scents in 1811.
Mean Things: Nothing major… yet
“Let us say,” James began, “that a friend of mine-“ Sheridan snorted with laughter, and James stopped talking. Sheridan waved him off with a swing of his hand.
“No, no, pray, continue.”
“A friend of mine is caught in a bind,” James said pointedly, but the men shared a grin. “Between a fine, lovely woman fit to be a good helpmeet and wife, and a glorious angel who haunts his dreams.”
Sheridan dropped his chin and chortled, shaking his head with the easy way of a man who has seen too much. “First things first, that friend of yours better hope that even one of ‘em will want him in the first place,” he advised. “Assuming he’s no fool.”
“Oh, he’s a fool, alright,” James said ruefully.
“So let him be foolish,” Sheridan said unexpectedly. “Marry the one and keep the other, in whatever manner he can afford.”