New writing challenge on TMP

[kissa_bites]

This week, our genre challange was posted by mina on the Portego forum at TheMasque

the word(s): PMS aka premenstual syndrome
the genre: Historical Romance

*grins*

come on...how hard can it be to write a romantic PMS story/poem? give it a go!!! 

My offering: 

“No!” screeched Sarah. “No, I shan’t marry the duke! I hate the duke! He’s … he’s an arrogant rake!”

“You absolutely will marry the duke, Sarah,” her father called through her bedroom door. “You’ll be married at the end of the season.”

Tears rolled down Sarah’s cheeks as her belly tied in cramped knots. She couldn’t bear that man. He was far too large and brutish and his cravats were tied all wrong, as though he didn’t even care how he looked when he dismissed his valet. He’d likely want Sarah to wear all black, just like he did, rather than the joyful puces or magenta that the newest men’s fashions dictated.

“No, Father, please don’t make me do this!”

“I’ve already signed all of the papers, Sarah. Everything has been arranged.”

She damned herself for being born female, rather than the boy that she knew her father had wanted. First her body betrayed her with pain and blood, then her own family sold her off like… like… chattel.

“Your Grace, my apologies. Sarah is somewhat stunned by the news of your offer, but I’m sure she’ll adjust to it soon,” her father muttered. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled in a day or two, once she … adjusts.”

Sarah could hear him through the door. She growled. That man had dared to come upstairs. Why… how dare he? She heard him speak, his low, deep voice was an indistinct grumble through the wood of her door; she couldn’t make out what he said.

“Of course, Your Grace,” her father said.

Sarah heard keys jangling and the door opened.

The duke pushed his way into the room and stood directly in front of the window. His large frame took up so very much space in her bedroom and… and everyone in the square below could see him. Sarah was scandalized! The duke was in her bedroom! She was ruined! Her reputation was in tatters. She would have to marry him.

Sarah sank onto the side of the bed, her face buried in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. She hadn’t said a word to him, and she was ruined.

The duke gathered her carefully in his arms, saying nothing. When she was snug, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a single, small box. With a flick of his thumb, he opened it, holding it under her nose.

As soon as she smelled it, Sarah opened her eyed, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She blinked and looked at him, shock and gratefulness slowly dawning on her face.

Inside the box lay, not a diamond ring, but a single, exquisite chocolate truffle.  It was the most perfect betrothal gift he could have possibly gotten her.