Historical Romance- M/F Dialogue

0:00
Audiobooks
18
0

Description

Female lead has asked Male lead for help to learn how to write a love letter so she can set her aunt up for a romance. She doesn't realize the male lead is in love with her but she's under his protection so he can't tell her that without any encouragement on her part.

Read More

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)

Accents

British (Received Pronunciation - RP, BBC)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I was not sure I was ready at all with Philip sitting so close to me in this quiet room. But then I remembered I was supposed to be growing up and I tried to imagine what an experienced lady in London would do. I tried to imagine what Cecily would do. I imagine I was graceful and elegant and accustomed to handsome gentlemen teaching me how to write a love letter. I kept my voice casual and said, please go ahead. He cleared his voice and spoke in a tutorial manner. The purpose of the love letter is to convey feelings. One cannot say out loud. Here is your first exam? Why would a gentleman be unable to declare himself openly? Philip sounded so serious as if he were a real teacher and I a pupil, I didn't want him to be serious. So I bit my lip as if thinking hard and said, um because he's a mute, Philip's lips twitched in an effort not to smile. I see you pass the General and went straight to the Pacific. The answer, Miss Aventre is that a gentleman is unable to declare himself openly if his circumstances prevent it he raised an eyebrow or are you paying attention? I nodded. Yes. But you spoke of a gentleman. Should you not be teaching me how a lady writes a love letter? After all? I will need to write a love letter as if I were my aunt. He rolled his eyes. I am not going to pretend to write a love letter to another man. You will just have to take my instruction and apply it in your own way. Now, how do you think he should begin with her name? I guess unimaginative. He picked up the quill dipped it in ink and wrote to my unsuspecting love. I had to lean closer to Philip to read the words clearly, much more imaginative. I murmured. And now for the essence of the letter, I kept my eyes on the paper waiting for him to write more, but his hand stayed poised above the paper until I looked up. He gazed into my eyes for a long minute. Then said in a quiet voice, the eyes are a good place to start. Oh, no. Now he was going to start teasing me in earnest. I was sure of it. When I look into your eyes, I lose all sense of time and place. Reason, robbed, clear thought erased. I'm lost in the paradise I find within your gaze. Oh my. I could never have imagined such words. Not from anyone, not from Philip. They burned me from within and I think if he had read them out loud, I would have been consumed by heat. I was grateful that he was silent. I still felt his gaze on my face. He was so close, but I did not dare look at him again. Instead I rested my chin on my hand, curling my fingers over my cheek in an attempt to hide my blush. I long to touch your blushing cheek to whisper in your ear. How I adore you. How I've lost my heart to you. How I cannot bear the thought of living without you the tease. I cursed him silently. I was sure he wrote about my blush just to provoke a reaction from me. He loved to provoke me. I reminded myself he loved to make me blush. He said so himself that day in the library. But even telling myself that did nothing to lessen the heat of my embarrassment. I tried to remind myself that this was only a lesson and not a real love letter. Not my love letter I repeated in my mind while I stared at the paper to be so near you without touching you is agony. Your blindness to my feelings is a daily torment and I feel driven to the edge of madness by my love for you. The only sound in the room was the quiet scratch of a quill on paper as Philip wrote, I stared at the letter as if it was my only anchor to reality. My heart fed so hard at eight without knowing much about love myself. I knew that Philip must have once loved someone this passionately. He had once felt exactly what he had written that he was nearly out of his mind with love. I choked on a surge of jealousy. So bitter. It shocked me. Where is your compassion when I need it the most open your eyes love and see what's right before you. But I am not merely a friend but a man deeply desperately in love with you. I was shaking, I gripped my hands into fists and searched for some composure. I should be able to treat this as an amusing lesson in romance. A chance for me to become a little more experienced. Then why did I feel stretched? So thin, so transparent and tremulous? Why did my heart gallop? Why did I feel I was coming undone? I knew none of the answers. I only knew that I was greatly disturbed by this lesson I wanted to find something to laugh about. But the letter sat before me on the table like an intimate glimpse into Phillip's heart and there was nothing to laugh about. Indeed. I felt strangely close to crying. I wanted to push the paper away. I wanted to run from the room. I wanted to reverse the clock and never know that Philip was capable of this. I wanted to undo everything even coming here to Eden Brook rather than know this about Philip. Finally he spoke. Do you have any questions? His voice caused a ripple to cascade through me. I closed my eyes and summoned my courage to stay in my chair and not cry. This was my opportunity to prove my maturity. I would not let him know how his words had disturbed me. I cleared my throat. How shall you sign it? Your secret admirer? My voice sounded close to normal, which I was quite proud of. After a pause. He said no, that won't do. His hand moved again, writing the words longing for you. He signed his name underneath. I stared at his name. My fingers cowed over my hot cheek trying to hide something from him. Anything. What do you think? He asked? I tried to breathe normally and speak normally, but there was nothing normal about this moment. Very nice. I said in a tight voice, silence stretched so hot that I felt. It almost like a tangible presence humming in the small space between us. I stared at the letter intent on not looking up because to look up would be disastrous. I counted slowly to 10 in my mind. Nothing. I counted to 10 again. Was he trying to burn a hole in my face with his gaze? Could this possibly be any more awkward? No, this was undoubtedly the most awkward moment of my life. I was sure of it. Then Philip took a breath and I felt a switch turn in him. He said in a light voice. Of course, one must always take into consideration the modesty of the lady. Too subtle and she may miss your meaning altogether. Too strong. Philip sat down the quill and reached up to the hand. I was using to cover my blush. He hooked a finger around mine and pulled my hand down to the table. Too strong. He said, and she may never look you in the face again.