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This excerpt is taken as Daisy Abbott confronts her protagonist, William, after being woken by him that morning. They are standing in the middle of her flat having a conversation, during which she is both frustrated and inconvenienced at his presence. Her latest book has stalled due to his apparent inactivity and yet he claims he's been telling Daisy all she needs to know to write the book.
“Listen.” Daisy faced the Georgian named William, who sat rather dashingly on the mid-century sofa. “This has all been strangely amusing, but I really must ask you to go back to whatever aristocratic estate in my imagination you came from. We have work to do and I can’t have you here trying to arouse me like this. It’s very rude.”
He unfolded his tall, imposing body so the fullness of his wardrobe was displayed rather magnificently. “I see. You wish me to come to you at once until you have what you need and then I am simply to disappear.”
Daisy wrinkled her nose briefly in agreement and then gazed back at him. “That’s about the size of it.”
“See here; this is not Arabia and I am not a genie floating out of a bewitched lamp. I am a nobleman from Carrington. There seems to be some sort of miscommunication between what I have been saying to you and what you think you’re hearing.”
“There certainly is. The miscommunication is that you are not standing in my living room at half six in the morning telling me I haven’t been listening to you.”
“I have.” She looked him up and down.
“Then why did you ask for me to come? You don’t seem to be hearing me any better now that I am here. If I’m not mistaken, you don’t seem keen on my presence at all.”
“You don’t get it. You are the protagonist, okay? You are supposed to speak to me. I will filter through what it is you’re saying and decide whether or not to keep it.”
“Is that how you wrote all your other books?”
“It doesn't matter. This book is not other books. It’s a little late to use my usual method because you’ve been off doing whatever it is you do in Carrington. I trust you made that name up.”
“Pray, what is it that you require of me that I have not already provided?”
Daisy’s eyes widened into crazy mode again. “Give me coffee.” She abruptly left the living room. “Give it to me intravenously, give it to me by catheter – just get it inside of me.” She instantly reappeared in front of William. “Do you know what your problem is? You’re problem is that you’re the one with control issues, not me.” She walked off again toward the kitchen, leaving him standing there with his hands patiently resting behind his coattails. There was silence and then she returned again. “Just tell me one thing.”
“Will you stop shouting?”
“Go on,” he said with a nod.
Daisy inhaled and kept her finger pointed before she repeated the words, his name was William. Aside from the very.” She looked up at him accusingly. “You say you’ve been speaking for months? Well, what on earth am I supposed to do with that? What does that even mean?”
He nodded gently and looked down at the ground for a beat before reconnecting with Daisy’s eyes. “Aside from the very plain fact he was besotted with the King’s daughter, William knew nothing about love.” He recited the words like a poem he had memorised. “He only knew he had to have Georgina, because he knew she was love.”
Daisy stared back into his eyes and then uncomfortably shifted her weight. “Well.” She cleared her throat. “Okay.” She nodded curtly. “Thank you.”
William nodded toward the desk. “Aren’t you going to write that?”
She waited a moment and then dashed most ungracefully over to the desk and pulled up the lid of her laptop. She typed the words furiously into the document, then read and re-read them as she slowly walked around the chair and sat down.
After a pause, she turned over her shoulder. “I don’t like the name Georgina.”
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