Opening of The Tory's Daughter

[Belle_91]

Well, this is my second post on here, my first time starting a topic and posting an excerpt.

I posted this on Absolute Writer Water Cooler, but I thought I might see what people over here thought. On AW they didn't seem so thrilled about this, but I just wanted to see what others thought. On AW, I apperciated everyone's advice, and I am sure I'll apperciate the advice given here.

Okay, well, here I go. This is supposed to be Historical Fiction with a dash of romance.

Chapter One

June, 1775

The hot and stifling air in Virginia threatened a storm. Abigail Randals nibbled on her lips as she looked around Raleigh’s Tavern. Beneath the dim, yellow light of the candles and the sound of the violin, she felt that the air was heavy with tension. Her own anxiety swelled within her, and she tried desperately to keep it contained.

A woman next to her said, “Our own governor, Lord Dunmore has run away from Williamsburg. What is worse, two slaves in Norfolk were caught trying to raise an insurrection!”

The very thought sent a shiver down Abigail’s spine as she took a sip of her punch. She knew that she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but the couple was talking rather loudly. She kept her eyes on the dancing pairs before her, but listened intently to what her neighbors had to say.
“Aye and to think what would have happened if they had succeeded,” a man in a lavender coat said. “Especially since Devil Dunmore had threatened to free them. They would have reduced this city to ashes. When those boys were injured at the magazine, the militia had to be brought out!”

Abigail drained her glass of lime juice and rum. Making sure that she didn’t knock anyone over with her wide skirts, she headed towards the punch bowl. She didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the slaves had rioted. Yet, in her mind, she pictured the capital on fire with people fleeing for their lives. Again, she shuddered though the air inside of the ballroom was stifling. She helped herself to some more punch before glancing around the ballroom. She saw her friend Gabriel Brown across the crowd of people, and she smiled when he headed her way.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked. He cut a handsome figure. His black hair was swept up in a pony’s tail and his blue coat showed off his broad shoulders.

“This room feels like a powder keg. I fear at any moment, one of the candles will fall over and we shall all be blown to pieces.”

“You put it so elegantly, Abby.”

“I am serious. Things in Williamsburg have gotten as bad as ever. It certainly doesn’t help we nearly had a riot a few days ago. I feared for a moment that we would have a massacre like they did in Boston.”
Abigail’s stomach knotted when she remembered the roar of the mob when they had discovered that the gunpowder had been taken from the magazine. She had distinctly heard someone shout out, “Get the governor! Let us treat him to a court of tar and feathers!” She winced and shook her head like she could shake the thought from her mind.

The long candles sputtered throughout the ballroom and produced a golden light. Women in shimmering silk and taffeta gowns laughed while men strutted around in their powdered wigs. The windows had all been flung open in hopes of producing a light breeze. From the streets below, Abigail could hear a horse and carriage rattled past. In the ballroom, a harpsichord played above the gentle murmur and laughter of the guests.

“Lord Dunmore is lucky he got away with his life.”

“I don’t think it was about to get that bad, Abby.”

“What wasn’t that bad?” Abigail’s older brother, Thomas, demanded as he came up beside them. He was tall and handsome with his blond hair swept back and tied off
with a ribbon to match his coat.

“We were just discussing Lord Dunmore’s flight,” Gabriel said.
“He’s a fool, that man is,” Thomas spat. “I am ashamed to say my father supports him. He actually wants the House of Burgesses to meet him on the York River! Can you imagine?”

Abigail fiddled with the bow of her neckerchief which was draped over her shoulders. She wore a silk brown dress with a white petticoat underneath. “Well, he is our governor.”

“He has dismissed the house twice before and taken away our gunpowder which is our only means of defense, and--”
“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Abigail cut her brother off. “I am so sick of hearing about politics, ‘tis all anyone talks about these days.”
She glanced over at Gabriel. His brown eyes shined as he smiled at her. With an extravagant bow which made Abigail laugh, he asked, “Will you dance, Miss Randals?”

“I would be delighted.”

He offered her his arm and led her over to their set. The music picked up and Abigail sank into a curtsy as he bowed.

“Did I tell you how lovely you look?”

“You are just saying that. I look like a fright I am sure.”

Clasping hands, the two skipped down the line of dancers who clapped their hands in time to music. Abigail went around Gabriel; her skirts whirling out behind her and her cheeks flushed. When the dance ended, she melted into another curtsy, her brown dress pooling around her in a puddle.

“That was good fun.”

“And you are always complaining about how you can’t dance,” Gabriel said. “You danced well.”

“I suppose, but I do hate these parties. I would much rather be riding.” She took Gabriel’s arm and allowed him to escort her back over to where Thomas stood. She felt the eyes of the other guests bearing into her.

“That is Mr. Randals’s daughter,” she heard one woman whisper.

“Doesn’t he support the governor and the King.”

“Aye, he is the most ardent Tory in all of Williamsburg, I dare say.”
Abigail forced herself to smile and whispered to Gabriel, “I hate having to act polite and merry.”
He laughed. “Don’t we all, but we are all players in this game.”

“And the object of the game is to find a spouse as soon as possible.”

Another song played and more couples lined up for a new dance.

“I fear I must leave you now, Abby. I have agreed to dance this one with Miss Randolph.”

“Oh,” Abigail said, raising her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Nothing; I just did not know the two of you were courting.”

Gabriel laughed. “Courting? Where did you get such a silly idea?”

Before she could respond, he walked off and joined Susannah Randolph. She was looking beautiful in a rather low cut lavender gown, her hair powdered and her cheeks rouged. She seemed to be born into her stays, while Abigail felt clumsy and awkward.

“I saw you dancing with Gabriel,” Mrs. Randals said as she came up beside her stepdaughter.

“Yes,” Abigail said as she retrieved her fan.

“I think he likes you.”

“That’s absurd! He is like a brother to me.”

“Well, I don’t think he views you as a sister.”

Abigail watched as Gabriel and Susannah circled around one another in the dance. She laughed at some joke, and Abigail didn’t know why, but she had to turn away.

[theresatroutman]

June, 1775

The hot and stifling air in Virginia threatened a storm. Abigail Randals nibbled on her lips as she looked around Raleigh’s Tavern. Beneath the dim, yellow light of the candles and the sound of the violin, she felt that the air was heavy with tension. Her own anxiety swelled within her, and she tried desperately to keep it contained.

I would change this paragraph. Start with a hook. Who is Abigail? Why is she tense? When I read this I imagined her in a small, dark tavern, but she is at a ball. Who is throwing the ball and what is the reason for it?

I think a stronger opening will help grab the readers' attention and flow a little better into the conversation she is overhearing at the ball. It seems the political climate is tense and coud erupt at any moment. Is that the reason Abigail is tense?

Good Luck!
Theresa

[crescentstar]

I just wanted to ask about the use of the name Abigail. Are you going for something darker or Gothic later on in the story? It just seems that name has a fair amount of baggage associated with it from the Goth sub culture. NCIS uses it as a stereo typical goth name. It is also used in the Dark Gothic concept album by King Diamond. I'm just afraid the name could be taken as a little forced or twee

[Belle_91]

Abigail is just Abigail. Not going for anything dark at all. I actually named her after John Adam's wife, Abigail Adams. She was a great and strong woman who I look up to.

[Belle_91]

Does this have more of a hook.

Rebellion. That was the word on everyone’s lips tonight. Abigail Randals nibbled on her lips as she looked around Raleigh’s Tavern. Beneath the dim, yellow candlelight, she felt that the air was heavy with tension.
Above the sound of the harpiscord and violin, she heard snatches of conversation.
“Our own governor, Lord Dunmore has fled…”
“The Negroes might rise up against us…”
“…slave rebellion…”
“…they had to call out the militia...”
Abigail didn’t want to think about what would have happened if the slaves had rioted, or the mob had gotten control of the gunpowder.