Aw, Susan, seconding your rejection emotion, except mine might come with a promise to Quit Once And For All, which in my more together moments I imagine my muse looking down and saying "Excuse the fuck out of *me*, Virginia Woolf." Because my muse shares my weakness for profanity, I think."If you're so sure nobody'll care, why the Announcement?"

Well, I'd probably be more down were I not on the edge of a writer high over the current novel.

Speaking of which, I've reached a Plotting Impasse, and y'all are great help with those. Basically, I need my protagonists, Jack and Anna, to do something that's very much against the rules of their time so I can get them alone together for long enough to form a Passionate Bond. The rule-breaking is non-negotiable. But since I care about historical accuracy, I want to make it as plausible as possible.

Here's the situation: July 1811, Spain, Peninsular War. A small group of British soldiers and noncombatants (a wagon convoy of wounded being sent away from the front) is captured by a French regiment that, conveniently for my plot, shows up where no one expected them to be. Thanks to a plot device in the form of a French bullet, the young lieutenant in command of the British soldiers guarding the convoy lies unconscious, so Jack, a sergeant, is the highest-ranking Englishman aside from a pair of surgeons. Thanks to another convenient bullet, Anna is the only surviving lady of the group, though there are two other women--a private's wife and a camp follower who cohabits with one of the corporals.

The commanding French officer is capital-E Evil, and intends to rape Anna. It'd take too long to go into here, but he's figured out a way to sufficiently isolate her from the other British prisoners that he could pull this off. Fortunately, a junior French officer suspects his design and decides to help Anna escape. And since he can hardly send her off alone to make her way back to the main body of the British army, he'll also help a British soldier escape to guide her. Which, of course, to make the plot work has to be Jack.

I think I can justify sending her off with just Jack on the grounds that the good French officer would feel it was too risky for him to help more than two people escape. What I'm having a little trouble with is making him seem like the best possible choice of all the available Brits. The surgeons are out because they're needed to care for the wounded, so that's easy. And a certain number of the soldiers were wounded in the battle, and a good many of the others, given the realities of Wellington's army, wouldn't be the kind of men you'd trust alone with a woman. But I'm still stuck with the problem that there's bound to be someone who'd be less cause for compromise to Anna's reputation--someone married, middle-aged, and homely, for example--than our single, 28-year-old hero who looks a bit like Nathan Fillion and looks just as good in tight pants.

The one idea I've had is to involve a third person in the escape, but to kill them in the early going, leaving Jack and Anna alone. Neither of the other women would work--one because she has a baby to care for, the other because I need her later in the story and can't kill her off. So I could use one of the disposable men, except that A) I've already killed so many people in this story I feel like I should change my name to Tim Minear, and B) I'm not sure that going off with two men would really be seen as any improvement reputation-wise over going off with just the one.

Thoughts?

Could you establish a moment that casts Jack as trustworthy in the Frenchman's eyes earlier? A small but telling thing--he sees Jack showing some kindness to a lower-ranking soldier or to a prisoner or writing a letter home for an illitierate wounded man, so we see that he has a reason to choose him?

I've already established a good rapport between Jack and the French officer, since they work together on things like care for the wounded and accommodations for the prisoners after the British surrender. Maybe I could have the Frenchman conclude that while Jack isn't the ideal choice for Anna's reputation, at least he knows him to be a capable, intelligent, and kind man, and he doesn't have time to decide if there's anyone else who'd be suitable.

I just got my first form rejection letter (from an agent). It hurts a lot more than the personalized kind.

Fie! You still roooooock.

We could go with the premise that the French soldier wouldn't be completely aware of the social implications of sending Anna off with one man. Maybe he's not too far above peasant himself and thinks competence trumps social appropriateness any day of the week. Jack's not an officer--therefore not a gentleman (officially)--and while he's probably aware of the social gulf between himeslf and Anna, he probably doesn't have the bone-deep awareness of the fine points. She would know, though, and she might have an intiail kneejerk response that having someone of lower class escort her could be damaging. You could have a British officer volunteer but be too injured to actually fulfill the duties. And maybe the British officer can be intelligent enough to realize that Jack--"He's a stout fellow and can be depended on"--is the best bet to defend the lady, especially in the awkward situations a war entails. Then when everyone gets back to civilization, the people who were safe at home can be all twittery and those who were out there can be very quietly accepting. Though it would be the kiss of death to say such a thing out where the social dragons could hear.

Thanks, y'all.

She would know, though, and she might have an intiail kneejerk response that having someone of lower class escort her could be damaging.

t fairly ignorant about the period, outwith Heyer

I'd have thought that having someone markedly lower class than her would actually be less compromising, reputation-wise; I mean, ladies were alone with menservants at times, weren't they? Without there being the kind of hoo-ha that would ensue if they were alone with gentlemen?

t /fairly ignorant about period, outwith Heyer

My other thought, in addition to everything above, is that emergency trumps custom every time, and twice on Sundays. It can be as simple as Monsieur Evil is on his way over here right now, and Jack is standing right over there, and he seems a right fellow.

You know, Go. Go now. Here is my greatcoat, slip under the back of the tent. Head north if you can. I haven't seen you.