Ribbon & Yarn

By Top Writers Block

This collection of short stories is based on the theme of Ribbon & Yarn.
Romance, tragedy and comedy have all become entangled in these eight tales that will keep your attention until the end.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Top Writers Block
• Release date: Mar 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311125316

Top Writers Block

Top Writers Block is a diverse and eclectic group of talented writers who decided to write stories together - just for the fun of it! Our collections are usually written with one theme or genre in mind. Each author contributes when they have the time, so some of the collections have as many as twelve authors participating. Every collection has something new, with stories and poems ranging from romance, drama, and adventure to mystery, fantasy, and horror.

Book preview

Collection of Short Stories

by

Top Writers Block

on the theme of

‘Ribbon & Yarn’

Copyright©March 2014 Top Writers Block

Published by Top Writers Block at Smashwords

ISBN: 9781311125316

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

http://suzystewartdubotbooks.weebly.com

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

Credits

Book cover photo & cover design : Suzy Stewart Dubot

Table of Contents

Time is of the Essence... by Suzy Stewart Dubot

Tapestry... by Barnaby Wilde

Yarn Mother... by Melissa A. Szydlek

The Heavy Ribbon... by Don Bick

Annie McGuire... by Elizabeth Rowan Keith

How An Afternoon Can Last Forever In Provence... by Bill Rayburn

Johnny’s So Long at the Fair... by Suzy Stewart Dubot

Impasse – The Tale of Bill and Wayne... by Barnaby Wilde

Time is of the Essence

by

Suzy Stewart Dubot

Copyright©March 2014 Suzy Stewart Dubot

An Anglo/American who has now spent most of her life in France, she began writing as soon as she retired. She recently moved back to France after spending more than a year in London, UK. Writing followed her as easily as her laptop.

With her daughters, she is a vegetarian and a supporter of animal rights. She is also an admirer of William Wilberforce.

London, 1824

This may be your last chance, Tandi.

Thank you, Louise, for pointing that out. The fact was already staring me in the face like a lion ready to pounce.

Theodora Ann Dickson – Tandi – pulled at the waistband that she was finding a little constrictive.

Louise gently smacked her hand.

It is perfect as it is Tandi. If you twist it now, there will be creases. You have done a marvellous job with transforming the dress. It is impossible to tell that it is three years old.

Four, Theodora corrected her.

The dress had been fairly fashionable four years earlier, but those with an eye to the mode would have dated it immediately; which is why the transformations had been needed. Theodora had taken it apart and altered the skirt by making it narrower. She had trimmed its bottom with satin ribbon and then had added a satin waistband to match. She had used some of the material taken from the skirt to give the sleeves more volume with vents that would then show off flashes of satin to match the colour of the ribbons. And of course, it fitted her perfectly, flattering her slender figure and shapely breasts.

Dress-making was certainly not something she should confess to, if asked. It would lower her standing in society’s eyes, which was laughable really, considering her current situation.

She was poor and desperate – pretty low on the scale, in other words.

She had been left an orphan when her middle-aged guardian had died two months earlier leaving little more than a minimum of provisions for her. Who could have anticipated the death of a healthy man in his forties? Not even the drunk who had assaulted him....

It was thanks to Louise and her family’s generosity that she now had a roof over her head. She had arrived at a turning point in her life where she either had to find a husband, or a job. She could not continue to impose upon her friends.

-o0o-

What is the purpose, old stick? Graham asked, unable to understand the masquerade. I assume Reggie is in on the deception?

He is indeed. Old chums have to stick together, Tristan affirmed.

Graham nodded.

"As you know, all the Ton mamas have their ear to the ground for any eligible man. They have found out that I have to find someone and marry her before I’m thirty."

He grimaced as he remembered some syrupy conversations he’d been engaged in just recently. Mamas were practically drooling over him.

I’ve had enough of dancing around solicitous mothers and tripping over their daughters. I can’t tell you how many traps have been set for me and from which I’ve managed to extricate myself at the last minute. It is really too harrowing and boring at the same time, he grumbled.

I do sympathise, Graham said. I was lucky enough to avoid those particular annoyances.

Well, Reggie sympathised with my plight too and has agreed to throw this ball so that I can see some of the available women in the offering without making myself known. I know one might confuse the manoeuvre with a visit to a cattle market, but for pity’s sake, I should at least be able to choose a woman to propose to without coercion! Wouldn’t you agree, Graham?

Just glad I didn’t have any obligations tied to my inheritance, that’s all. Graham twiddled with his pocket watch and chain as he spoke. He was a couple of years younger than Tristan and had already married his childhood friend, Imogene. They were perfectly happy together, and they were both looking forward to their first child sometime in July.

You know why my uncle put conditions on my inheritance, don’t you? Tristan asked.

Graham shrugged showing he’d never considered the reasons.

All because my mother is French. He was pissed off by the fact that his brother, my father, married her. It was just after ‘The Terror’ in France, and war with us was already brewing. You know the rest. Napoleon only added to his dislike of anything French. Maybe by getting me to marry an English girl he felt he was going one up on the French?

"Strange man, your uncle. You were born in London, weren’t you?" Graham questioned.

Yes.

"You are English?"

Yes.

"My mother is Scottish. Some folk consider them savages." Graham commiserated.

Your mother is delightful, Graham. Much better than most of the English matrons that seem to be everywhere, ever ready to seize an opportunity of bringing a man down.

Graham nodded his agreement again. He then continued.

So why are you bothering with this farce tomorrow night? Theatricals aren’t your usual method of madness.

Why? Because I won’t inherit his estate and title if I don’t marry an English maiden, and I want to be able to choose whom I marry. I don’t care too much for the title. It’s the funds that have me complying. I’m as good as penniless.

You’re kidding. You could have fooled me, Graham commented with a shocked look on his face.

Well, let’s say I’m exaggerating, but I do need more money coming in if I am to set up Mama in a decent place.

But you’ll have ‘The Hall’ once you inherit.

Yes, but I have to marry first. It’s a vicious circle. I just want to find a pleasant young woman without the family pressures that often accompany any young woman worth a penny.

You know that Mrs. Bridges is widowed? She is worth a fortune and she’s English. If you were to marry her, you’d have two fortunes in one blow.

Would you want to marry her if you were free, Graham? Tristan already knew the answer.

Hell no!

Well, neither do I.

Tristan could see the plump, sweaty woman in his mind’s eye. She was probably only five years older than he, but she might as well be thirty years more, for all she interested him.

He shuddered involuntarily.

Tristan had three months before he turned thirty. Ninety days seemed like a fair amount of time to find a suitable bride, but he was actually hoping to find someone that he could be happy with. Love would be a bonus that he needed to overlook for expediency’s sake. If he found a woman who attracted him, perhaps love would follow. Besides, he knew that when property or money was involved, love did not come high on the list of priorities.

He was the only son of the second son of an Earl. That meant that his uncle had inherited all