This Wild Thing

By Elena Berrino

Indulge in a delightful romantic comedy filled with witty banter, endearing mishaps, and a love that defies societal expectations. Get ready for a rollercoaster ride of misunderstandings and misadventures in "This Wild Thing," a charming tale set against the backdrop of London's enchanting Season.

Meet Georgie, a spirited young woman who would rather avoid the strict social events of the London Season. However, when her brother announces his intention to marry, Georgie is reluctantly thrust back into the whirlwind of high society. It is amidst these gatherings that she encounters the vivacious Enriqueta Ellesmore, a bold and outspoken woman fresh from the Colonies, unaccustomed to London's rigid norms.

As fate would have it, Georgie's brother and Enriqueta's sister fall madly in love, a match made in heaven in terms of both temperament and fortune. Unfortunately, their sisters are a different story altogether. Georgie's obliviousness to social graces and Enriqueta's inability to hold her tongue combine to create chaos and ruin their chances in polite society—all in a single night.

But love has a way of finding its path, even in the most comical of circumstances. Determined to rectify their mistakes and salvage their siblings' happiness, Georgie and Etta embark on a mission to mend what they have inadvertently broken. Together, they navigate the intricacies of the Season, enlisting the help of their families in a series of hilarious escapades.

As they join forces, Georgie and Etta not only mend their sibling's shattered prospects but also discover a deep connection blossoming between them. With each shared adventure and witty exchange, their friendship evolves into something more profound—a love that defies societal conventions and embraces the wildness within.

"This Wild Thing" is a delightful romantic comedy that will leave you grinning from ear to ear. Lose yourself in the uproarious escapades of Georgie and Etta as they navigate the unpredictable world of high society, proving that sometimes, true love can be found amidst the chaos of misunderstandings and the unfiltered honesty of two kindred spirits.

Prepare to be enchanted by this lighthearted tale of love, family, and self-discovery. With its clever dialogue, unforgettable characters, and a generous sprinkle of whimsy, "This Wild Thing" will capture your heart and remind you that the most extraordinary love stories often unfold when we least expect them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Shorts
• Release date: May 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094462561

Book preview

1

A h, here you are! My favorite daughter.

You only have the one, Papa, Georgina said, lifting her gaze from the book spread in her lap. In the bright and airy sunroom of their home, her father crossed the floor with long, determined strides.

And so you are, of course; the best of them, he said, as he took a seat in front of her.

I am better than nothing, Georgina said with an arched brow. That is a comfort.

Her father, William FitzGerald, the Earl of Witley, discreetly passed a hand down his face in exasperation.

There is no complimenting you, young lady.

You could try without insulting me, Georgie suggested mildly, closing her book. She was not offended, but she did derive some form of amusement from teasing her father, whose words always came out of his mouth much differently than they had initially formed in his head. Tea?

Her father nodded, shifting in his seat to cross his legs. In the space it took Georgie to pour the tea, add a touch of milk, and stir in a spoonful of sugar, the Earl shifted position four different times, testing arrangements of his legs and hands. Georgie watched him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what foolishness was afoot and how she factored into it.

It was when she finally handed him the teacup and saucer that he gathered enough will, or courage, to go over the subject.

We have a matter at hand for which I will need your presence.

Georgie arched her brows. I am right here, Papa.

"Yes. Here. Well, that is rather the problem. You are always here, dear daughter. You don’t go out much."

I went for a ride just this morning, Georgina pointed out with a frown. She was a creature of inside and warmth and books; she took to exercise for her health, as her poor dear mother, dead years now, had always insisted upon, but her preferences were well known — inside, with a good book.

She was presently reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, which had been published just earlier that year and was quite riveting. A woman, writing fiction! And not romances like Austen, no — this book was quite something. Georgie was determined not to be torn from it until she had finished.

"I mean out in society, Georgie."

Georgie almost recoiled. Papa, we have been over this. I thought we agreed. I have neither need nor inclination to attend social gatherings where the only entertainment is pettiness. I am quite well here, with my books and very pleasant company!

In saying this, she gestured with her hand to where her dogs were sleeping: two massive Irish wolfhounds called Rose, and Thorn.

It had been rather a funnier joke when she had named them, a good ten years ago. She’d since grown tired of explaining it, and now the meaning behind the names was lost to all but her own memory.

They offer riveting conversation, I’m sure of it, the Earl said dryly. But unfortunately your tendency to remain inside with your books and dogs has given you something of a reputation for reticence and taciturnity. Meaner tongues—

I’m sure no such thing exists in the elevated circles of the peerage, Georgie cut in flatly.

"—have begun to speculate there might be something… quite… wrong with you, dear."

Georgie leaned in and opened her eyes wide, arching her brows in a play of endearing innocence. How I appreciate the concern! What kind souls.

Her father sighed. I need you to come with us to the Undertown Ball tonight.

Now Georgie recoiled in truth, nearly dropping her teacup. The hot tea sloshed over the rim and out of the saucer. She hastened to save the book in her lap from being splashed, preferring instead for the tea to spill and stain her day gown.

Her father watched this and mildly took a sip from his own cup before standing to hand her a napkin, then took her cup and saucer. Georgie got to her feet and wiped at the fabric rather cursorily, mostly unbothered by the stain. She was at home, after all, in home clothes. She was rather more concerned with other things.

A ball! she protested, abandoning her attempts to wipe her skirts and instead pressing her knuckles to her waist. She looked at her father in outrage. Out of the question. I despise balls! You know this, Papa.

Yes, I know this, her father said evenly, patiently. He’d never been bothered by this before. In fact, in her youth, just after she had been presented in society and began to make the rounds on the season, she’d discovered, to her complete lack of surprise, that she hated it, and he had been more than accommodating in allowing her to avoid most engagements. Encouraging, even — as it allowed more time for them both to sit at home, each minding their own book, occasionally playing with the dogs, and generally enjoying quiet, pleasant company.

So what’s this, then? she demanded. Why suddenly drag me to a ball of all things?

Your brother wishes to marry.

Georgie leaned back, blinking. On purpose?

Her father gave her an exasperated look. Yes, Georgina, on purpose. Of course on purpose.

Well, she said, taken aback. I suppose some might go for that sort of thing. I wish him the best, of course… has he someone in mind?

"Potentially. He seems to have set his eye on the Doherton girl. I think her name is Eloise. A fine family; very well-liked and popular. Miss Eloise intimated to Henry that she will be attending the ball, and so he wishes to attend. And this, I’m afraid, is where you come in. You see, the rumors going around regarding your behavior—"

"What behavior?! Georgie demanded, offended. How could they speculate? I have not been seen in months!"

Precisely, her father stressed. They think something is wrong with you, or that we are hiding you, or you have, God forbid, eloped entirely with some ruffian.

Georgie scoffed. I would hardly stoop to eloping, ruffian or not! Why… should I ever choose to marry, I will do so openly and they will have to accept it, the whole lot of them!

Of course, sweetheart, her father said soothingly, knowing full well she despised the very idea of marriage and this was not a situation likely to come about. But the current problem remains. We need to show society that you are well, and able to join them, and very pleasant besides.

One of those things is fully a lie, Georgina pointed out flatly.

I’ve seen you lie convincingly, her father replied implacably.

I don’t even have a gown appropriate to a ball! I need more notice than this, Papa.

You’re not in the market for a husband; there’s no need to impress anyone. Wear the one you wore last time — unless you’re concerned with what the other young ladies will say behind your back if they spot a repetition?

Georgina pointed a threatening finger at him. I know full well what you’re doing. I will not be baited into agreeing to this!

Her father clapped his hands loudly in delight. Excellent, then that’s sorted. He turned around, coat-tails flying, and strode quickly to the door. The man knew how to survive his daughter’s temper, that much was true.

Nothing has been sorted! Georgie called after him, but it was pointless.

If Henry needed her to show her face and act proper and pleasant for one evening, to show she was not some sort of deformed monster, or illicitly pregnant out of wedlock, she would do it.

Henry was not only her older brother, he was also her dearest friend. And despite the fact she, herself, was not in the least inclined to marriage, and indeed quite puzzled by the idea of desiring it, she would do whatever was in her power to make sure her dear brother was happy.

2

Public balls, rather than private, were at least more tolerable.

Typically, there were a wider variety of people attending than just the peerage, and that meant the possibility — although small — of finding someone with whom conversation would not be a chore. Georgina took some solace in this thought as she entered the ballroom on her father’s arm, wearing a deep-blue ball gown embroidered with cranes.

It was distinctive. She was certain the girls already occupying the edges of the room would spot and recognize it from the last ball she had attended early in the year. She wondered if they would dare bring it up to her directly or would instead simply whisper about it behind her back.

It didn’t bother her that they thought themselves clever by laughing at her; or rather it wouldn’t have, if not for the fact that her brother’s chances of acquiring a bride depended on her being well-enough liked.

On the matter of why she had to have a good reputation for her brother to access a good marriage, she had some thoughts — but none of them were fit to be shared with polite society.

Well, not this society, anyway. Whether they were polite or not was rather up for discussion.

Henry, at least, seemed to be enjoying himself. He was fluttering about Georgie like an overeager mama, ensuring her comfort and enjoyment. He fussed that she had enough room to move about without pushing or being touched; he brought her lemonade, and when she made a face, exchanged it for weak wine. He situated her in a corner of the room that was not too removed, nor too crowded, where she was visible and yet unlikely to be accosted.

What did you tell him? she asked her father, when Henry had at last ceased his fussing and sought out his acquaintances. Because his getting worked up like this over me will certainly not dispel the idea that I am to be treated with care.

I told him you would rather chew through leather than attend, and yet you are here for his sake. I reckon I made him feel rather guilty.

Rather, Georgie said dryly.

Well, and why not treat you with care? the Earl said brightly. We don’t want people to get the wrong idea that you would be happy to make friends and mingle in society. He shuddered theatrically.

I do have friends, you know, Georgina replied.

Solicitously, he asked, Are any of them humans?

"What is a human, really?" Georgie asked with the air of someone preparing to philosophize.

Not going into the subject of a soul, I believe we can define them by having two legs, two arms, and thumbs.

What of amputees? she asked curiously.

They would have lost both thumbs? he tilted his head in thought.

A terrible accident. Extremely curious. You could not easily reproduce it.

But they still have all their other fingers?

They might have lost both hands.

That sounds uncomfortable, the Earl commented. But they were born with them, so surely that still leaves them to be human.

"Ah, so humanity is rather