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Letter from “A Lady”

By

On July 15, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

It is to be admired that a young lady of good family should excel with her paintbrush, as indeed she should also do in music, embroidery and letter-writing. That she should seek to earn her fortune thereby is another matter entirely.

Those of you cognisant of the recent scandal involving a certain Miss A and Mr C will know of what I speak. The seeking of one’s fortune through art represents an extraordinary lack of judgement, a trait oft seen in the story of the aforementioned Young Lady.

I cannot blame the prodigal daughter of Lady A for seeking escape from what I can only consider one of the Less Civilised provinces, despite its having a coastline and an absence of inconvenient hills. Unfortunately, our Great Metropolis draws all towards it, although it is to be wished that said young lady had made the journey in a more Respectable Fashion. Lady A is truly to be pitied that her offspring chose elopement, and even more so that the gentleman, in question, a certain Mr T, chanced to be a Nobody who could have no thought but for the young lady’s Fortune. Rumour has it that he, too, considered himself An Artist. Imagine that! That two such Unworldly Young Persons should be domiciled together is a recipe for Boredom, Penury, and Ultimate Disaster. Any Person of Taste, Fashion or Discretion must be shocked by such behaviour.

If only this were the end of the sorry tale of poor Lady A’s wayward younger daughter! As if creating a Scandal in London were not enough, what must she then do but return to her dreary county of residence in the company of a member of the Lyon’s Den Gambling Hell, whom we shall call Mr C. Said Establishment is right here in Town, almost on my own doorstep, I’ll have you know. Utterly appalling. The goings-on! The only good thing I can say for Mr C is that he’s not known for his Watercolours, Portraits, or Oils, but prefers to lead the ramshackle existence that is so often the Preserve of the Younger Son. His association with the proprietor of the aforementioned establishment bears closer inspection, as it is my understanding that Mrs D-L frequently involves her acolytes in Nefarious Activities. What hope is there for a Daughter of the Provinces when thrown into the company of such a fellow? And if he should have turned her head by saving her from Highway Robbers, a rejected Lover, and indeed, from herself, then she is entirely lost to Decent Society.

Let us pray that the aforementioned Mr C will break the young lady’s heart, render her an Unmarriageable Spinster, and cure her forever of her ambition to set herself up as an Artist. Only then will the drawing rooms of the ton be safe from Scribbles, Indecipherable Blobs, mawkish depictions of babies, Ugly Portraits, and hideous representations of Dogs.

If I learn anything further regarding this Particular Situation, I promise you shall be the first to hear of it.

Yours etc.

LYON ON THE LOOSE

She fled a terrible mistake. Then her past caught up with her.

When scapegrace Miss Lissy Ashby faces ruin, she vows never again to trust a charming smile. But Fate has other plans. An ultimatum, a stolen carriage, and a forced overnight stay entangle her with her mother’s new secretary—a man with secrets of his own.

He was awful at spying. Excellent at falling in love.

Roland Chetwynd has been sent to Lissy’s home under false pretences, charged by renowned matchmaker, Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon, with recovering a missing sapphire necklace. He never imagined he would instead be captivated by a brave, blue-eyed artist who sees far more than he intended to reveal.

When masked villains strike at Lissy’s family’s ball, Roland risks everything—his reputation, his commission, even his heart—to protect her. But when the truth of his deception comes to light, Lissy must decide if the man she loves is a hero… or simply another mistake.

Purchase Link Universal: https://mybook.to/lyonontheloose

Purchase Link Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H5P9LR9Y

Excerpt:

London

The carriage clattered to a halt at the road junction, then rocked alarmingly as someone yanked the door open and flung themselves into the interior. The Honourable Roland Chetwynd automatically reached for his lion-headed cane, a gift from Mrs Dove-Lyon, with which to defend himself. Too late. There was an ominous cracking sound as the unwelcome intruder lost their balance and collapsed onto his lap.

An interesting twist to an already disastrous day; his carriage was now full of rain-drenched young female, and his new walking cane had been snapped in two. He also now had mud on his trousers whilst a trail of water dripped enthusiastically from the woman’s bonnet onto the toes of his carefully polished Hessians.

His coachman, apparently unaware of the new arrival, set the carriage lumbering off once more. Speechless, Roland glared at the damp young lady as she seated herself opposite him and shook the rain from her hooded cloak.

“I most awfully sorry, sir, but I was in dire need and your coach stopped in the street at just the right moment. I promise you needn’t take me far—I just need to travel a few blocks to make sure he can’t find me.”

Usually of a sunny disposition, Roland found himself feeling particularly ungentlemanly today. He was currently boasting a black eye following a set-to with his old enemy Henry Sutton, and he had just discovered that there was a book set up against him at White’s, a further blow to his rickety self-esteem. Rescuing bold young ladies from unwanted suitors—or whoever—was not what he had in mind right now. A few games of cards, a harmless wager or two, and a very decent Canary wine awaited him at the Lyon’s Den gambling club, and he had every intention of making his way straight there without becoming entangled in somebody else’s affairs. Besides, the last time he’d come to the aid of a damsel in distress, it had not gone well.

The young woman was subjecting him to a sober perusal, and he wondered what he must look like to her, dressed up to the nines, his jacket tailored as tightly as Beau Brummel’s, his unruly blonde hair well-suited to the windswept style, and a swelling eye. Part of him wanted to inform the young lady at once that he hadn’t been the loser in the battle with Sutton, and that he had every intention of evening the score, but why should he care what she thought of him? This was his carriage, his ghastly day… and she wasn’t likely to make it any better.

When she pushed her water-blackened hair back from her face, he noticed a pair of intelligent blue eyes peering out from an elfin face with a determined chin. “Oh, I am desolated,” she exclaimed. “I have broken your beautiful cane.”

“Never mind that. Coachman!” He rapped on the roof of the carriage with what remained of the lion-headed cane. “Halt!”

The woman glanced fearfully through the window and pulled her cloak tightly about her neck. “Please, no, sir! He’ll see me if you set me down now. Please—can we not just go a few more blocks? I cannot allow him to catch me.”

Author Bio: USA TODAY bestselling author Elizabeth Keysian writes richly researched historical romance set in Regency England, Tudor Britain and the mysterious landscapes of Dartmoor. She has completed a series for Dragonblade Publishing called Trysts and Treachery, and contributed three Regency romances to their Lyon’s Den Connected World line, with one more still to come. Though primarily a writer of romance, she loves to put a bit of mystery, adventure, and suspense into her stories, and refuses to let her characters take themselves too seriously. Elizabeth likes to write from experience, not easy when her works range from the medieval to the Victorian eras. However, her passion for re-enactment has helped, as have the many years she spent working in museums and British archaeology. If you find some detail in her work you’ve never come across before, you can bet she either dug it up, quite literally, or found it on a museum shelf. She puts out the occasional newsletter when there are books, contests, and bargains to promote.

Social media links and website:

Website: https://elizabethkeysian.co.uk

Free short story: https://elizabethkeysian.co.uk/landers/free-short-story-offer

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elizabeth-keysian

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.keysian

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/LizKeysian/

Newsletter: https://preview.mailerlite.io/forms/779677/180462996562118030/share

X: https://twitter.com/EKeysian

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/lizkeysian1/

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ladies in Breeches!

By

On July 9, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dearest Readers:

Our correspondent from Cheltenham delivers the most surprising intelligence that Lady B— and her husband have arrived in town, he to devote himself to the gaming tables and his lady to exhibit the latest fashions at the various spas and promenades. It would seem that Lady B— has acquired an enthusiasm for the theater, for she gave her name to support a recent exclusive matinee performed at Suffolk House, currently occupied by the Viscount A— while the Earl and Countess grace us here in London with their company.

Our correspondent, who is intimately acquainted with the house in question, suggests that the Viscount might have wished to delight his guests by showing them the results of the recent renovation, which borrows the most gracious and elegant inspiration from the Italian style in the hands of Cheltenham’s newest architect, Mr. Dante Manelli, lately of London. Curiously enough, our friends inform us that Mr. Manelli had a previous acquaintance with Lady B—, which ended upon her marriage to his lordship.

The subsequent rift between the two does not bode to be mended upon their reunion, for it is reported that Mr. Manelli has been much seen in the company of a leading actress from the troupe lately favored by Viscount A—, who is housing them in his home. This Miss Evans, a young woman from Wales, is the same who our faithful readers will recall so charmed London a few Seasons ago as the ward and friend of Lady P—, wife of the Viscount P—.

It is reported by our faithful correspondent that Lady B—‘s matinee made a signal impression due to the performance of women in several of the leading roles, which included Miss Evans offering a most startling and original interpretation of Hamlet, the role beloved of Garrick and Kemble. While your loyal reporter understands that not all of our readers can approve of women in breeches roles, our correspondent reminds us that the peerless Mrs. Siddons played Hamlet in a performance in Dublin that became universally celebrated.

In the same vein, Miss Evans appears to be gaining renown in Cheltenham, but our correspondent reports that one of her more interesting roles appears to be as the recipient of the affections of Mr. Dante Manelli. The two have been spotted promenading outside of Thompson’s Spa, and our correspondent reports that Mr. Manelli has invited the troupe of actors to tour the house he is building Charlton Kings.

What will his former inamorata Lady B— think of Mr. Manelli’s new infatuation, one might wonder? Will the seeming affection between Mr. Manelli and Miss Evans give us a comedy leading to love and marriage, or will it prove a tragedy in the end? Your faithful reporter can only assure you, dear reader, that the depths of the human heart remain as great and powerful a mystery as ever. But should interesting events unfold in Cheltenham, you may rely on our faithful correspondent to rise to the task.

Until then, may your tea be always warm and your cream always sweet.

The Gentleman’s Leading Lady

The lady least likely to: let a pretend courtship become real.

She’s got her heart set on the role of leading lady.

Cerys Evans ran away from her family to make her way on the stage, wanting a name that was all her own. But when the theater burns down, her options are to slink home a failure, or help her troupe build new premises and finally prove her place among them. The only obstacle: she’ll have to work with the arrogant Dante Manelli, Cheltenham’s rising architect, who is most decidedly not a gentleman.

He’s set his heart on her.

Dante Manelli has fought for every inch of his success, and he’s not going to let the taunts of a saucy actress distract him. But she’s offering a project that can cement his career, and when she creates a ruse to free Dante from an old nemesis, she soon has all of Cheltenham believing they are not just co-conspirators but lovers. The more time he spends with her, the more tempted Dante is to make their play real.

But Miss Cerys Evans is meddling with a dangerous rival—one who will do anything to end her hopes. And when her past comes back to find her, Dante must fight to prove himself the gentleman worthy of her hand and deserving of her heart.

For two souls struggling to establish their place in the world, there might be only one place they each belong: together.

An excerpt featuring their first kiss:

“I might have led her ladyship to believe you have a tendre for me.”

“You little—” The words ended in a growl. “Minx. You enjoy toying with people, don’t you?”

Cerys raised her chin to stare him full in the face. His entire body tensed. The visible eyelid flickered. He was like a figure from a masque, half light and half shadow, half angel, half dark god.

“And you, manipulative baggage that you are, intend to rescue me.”

She closed her eyes briefly at the effect his gravelly voice had on her.

“Hardly a rescue.” She forced her tone to lightness. “A negotiation. I am making you indebted to me so you will build us a theater.”

He shifted slightly. The space between them lessened. He smelled wonderful, a blend of port and orange and spices.

“You suppose,” he ground out, “that spreading tales about my affections is the way to put me in your debt?”

“Do you disdain to work with actors? Can we not elevate you enough that a commission from us would be worth your time? No, we are not lords or wealthy tradesmen, so perhaps you despise—”

She stopped when his hand covered her mouth. Her knees nearly buckled at the contact of his skin, the weight, the maddening heat of him.

His fingers cupped her cheek, the lightest touch. She sucked in air.  The part of his mouth she could see quirked in a smile. “Lady Disdain is going to lecture me about contempt? I am in no position to look down on anyone.”

She couldn’t seem to haul enough air into her lungs. She’d never kissed a man, not an actual man, not a proper kiss. What if it was awful? She couldn’t understand why she wanted so badly something that might be so terrible, and she stared at his lips, willing him, willing him—

“I go too far.” He loosened his arm from the wall and stepped back. “I—”

With a small, inarticulate groan, Cerys buried her fingers in his cravat and pulled his face to hers.

His mouth touched her mouth, and it was marvelous. A spark caught and then flared as those lips moved on hers, tentative, searching.

“Minx,” he growled in warning.

This was wrong. This was madness. She dug her fingers in his cravat, holding him. She wanted more of this. Dante, kissing her, forever.

~~~

The Gentleman’s Leading Lady, out now from Oliver Heber Books, is Book 12 in the Ladies Least Likely series. This is a grumpy/sunshine Regency romp with a pretend courtship, a headstrong actress, a starchy half-Italian architect, women in breeches, a villainess ex, and some sensual, stolen kisses.

Buy the book: https://books2read.com/u/m2gZBO

About the Author:

Misty Urban is a medieval scholar, freelance editor, and college professor who likes to write stories about misbehaving women who find adventure and romance. She lives in the Midwest in a little town on a big river with a handsome park ranger, two budding authors, and an ever-growing collection of books.

More about Misty: https://www.mistyurban.com

Find Misty online: https://linktr.ee/mistyurban

 

Is the Well Truly Magical?

By

On July 4, 2026

In Aileen Fish, Teatime Tattler

 

Dearest Reader:

It has come to my attention, thanks to our correspondent within the village, that Fenwick on Sea has a most unique claim. It is said that anyone who drinks of the water will find true love. Do we believe in this unusual claim? Well, it has happened to some guests at the Queen’s Barque Inn.

Now, I tend to be of the skeptical sort, but our correspondent assures me that Lady Beatrice Johnson arrived claiming to be engaged to Mr. Edwin Mills, but in a matter of weeks, she was engaged to Mr. Charles Robinson! How does such a thing happen? What does Mr. Robinson have to say about this?

I understand if the owner of the inn, Mr. Brewster, was making such claims to draw guests to fill his rooms, but as I understand it, the inn is undergoing renovations, so it seems to be a bad time to draw crowds.

Mr. Brewster, himself, wrote me recently, as you dearest readers might recall, but now that my correspondent has confirmed another occurrence of love at first sip, it has one contemplating sending one of my nieces to call there. If she has similar luck, I shall inform you all posthaste.

 

Along the Road to Ruin

Forevers in Fenwick Book Two

Aileen Fish

Somewhere along the road to Gretna Green, Lady Beatrice Johnson fell in love—but not with her betrothed!

Desperate to escape the life her guardian and brother Lord Shermer has planned for her, Bea accepts the proposal by Edwin Mills, whom she’s known for only a short time. Instead of taking her to Gretna Green as she’d been told, he takes her to the tiny town of Fenwick-on-Sea, where she’s soon found by her brother’s man, Charles Robinson.

Years ago, Charles realized the futility of any romantic feelings he had toward Bea and forced them aside. When Shermer sends him to find Bea he’s more than happy to go. Knowing that Shermer has already arranged a marriage for her to another man, Charles isn’t eager to return her to her brother.

Old feelings reawaken as Charles and Bea await the carriage Shermer is sending to bring them home. All the reasons Charles has for not confessing his love to Bea seem less important. Could she love him in return? And is he bold enough to do what’s best for Bea?

Order Now!

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author Aileen Fish is an avid quilter and auto racing fan who finds there aren’t enough hours in a day/week/lifetime to stay up with her “to-do” list. There is always another quilt or story begging to steal away attention from the others. When she has a spare moment, she enjoys spending time with her two daughters and their families.

She also writes steamy romance under the pen name Ari Thatcher.

Social Media Links:

Website: http://aileenfish.com

Amazon Author page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Aileen-Fish/author/B005EEER4M

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AileenFishAuthor

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Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/aileenfish/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/aileenf17/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/aileen-fish

 

 

Message From Afar

By

On June 27, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

The Teatime Tattler has it on good authority (Lady Z, currently temporary resident of Rome and long time subscriber of this publication) that odd goings on are occurring. She writes,:

“Odd behavior is as one might expect in this papist kingdom, and one fears that our young men abroad are not always as they should be. One need only look at that Byron fellow. He fled England in scandal and brought his outrageous behavior with him.”

While visiting the offices of one Arthur Wentworth, a “middling sort who is nevertheless the closest thing we have to British officialdom in this city,” she encountered a suspicious character. She might have ignored the man, poorly dressed and shabby as he was, except Lady Z was quite certain she had met him before. In London. Could he be a gentleman underneath all that? Is it a disguise? This thought was further confirmed by his speech, which “insofar as one could hear through the door,” was that of a gentleman.

What man, known to the government agent and familiar from the drawing rooms of London, could be dragging about Rome looking like an out of work laborer. Why would he not make his presence known to the wider English community?

Intrigued, Lady Z has made it her business to keep track of him for us. She last saw him entering a Papist convent of all places with a plain sort of English woman. Shocking!

About the Book, Tattered Honor

He languishes in Rome, his honor in tatters. Will love and promises help him piece it together again?

Jamie can’t let Nora know the secrets he has hidden from everyone, even his closest friends. Nora can’t trust any man who drinks. She had enough of that in her marriage. Either one, however, will dare anything for her niece, the little imp that keeps them together, even enter a sham marriage to protect her.

Formerly entitled Dangerous Secrets. The first editon was an award winning best seller. The new edition is fully edited and enlarged with new material.

Pre-Order Now https://www.amazon.com/Tattered-Honor-Heart-Book-Four-ebook/dp/B0H4HLPQDN

About the Author

Caroline Warfield – Authorr

Award winning author, Caroline Warfield, grew up in a peripatetic army family, and the need to travel never left her. After a varied career (largely around libraries and technology) she retired to the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania to be closer to family and to write. She remains a traveler and adventurer, enamored of owls, books, history, and beautiful gardens (but not the act of gardening).

Caroline calls her books family-centered romance, and this one is no exception. Family makes her characters what they are, for better or worse. She takes them as they are, scarred and wounded, and sets them on their path to their own happily ever after, because love is worth the risk.

Soli Deo Gloria

Find Caroline on the Web:

Website http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

Amazon Author http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/WarfieldFellowTravelers

Newsletter: http://www.carolinewarfield.com/newsletter/

BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/caroline-warfield

You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCycyfKdNnZlueqo8MlgWyWQ

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carowarfield/

Whispers from Hartleigh Hall

By

On June 24, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

There is a saying among the villagers near Hartleigh Hall.

The house remembers.

Whether one believes such things is entirely a matter of personal taste. However, recent events have provided enough material to keep local drawing rooms occupied for weeks.

After years abroad, the new Duke of Hartleigh has arrived to claim his inheritance. Ordinarily, such an event would be cause for little more than polite interest. A new duke takes possession of an old estate. Accounts are reviewed. Servants are introduced. Life continues much as before.

Hartleigh Hall, it appears, has other ideas.

Since the duke’s arrival, whispers have circulated throughout the village and beyond. Strange discoveries have been reported. Long-forgotten rooms have attracted renewed attention. Estate records that ought to agree have proven unexpectedly troublesome. Even the oldest residents have begun recalling stories they had long dismissed as family folklore.

Naturally, none of this has escaped the notice of society.

Particular interest has centered upon Miss Clara Whitmore, companion to the Dowager Duchess and a lady who appears to know Hartleigh Hall rather better than most. One might even say the house has entrusted her with a remarkable number of its secrets.

Observers have noted that the duke and Miss Whitmore are frequently seen in conversation. Some report discussions concerning estate business. Others insist the subject matter is rather more personal. As always, the truth likely lies somewhere between the two.

What is known is this: wherever questions arise within Hartleigh Hall, the duke and Miss Whitmore seem destined to encounter them together.

And questions continue to multiply.

Why do certain records fail to align with the history everyone believes they know?

Why do stories long dismissed as rumor suddenly command attention?

And why do those closest to the house seem reluctant to speak openly about its past?

One cannot help but suspect that Hartleigh Hall is keeping accounts of its own.

Missing jewels.

Forgotten promises.

A legacy clouded by uncertainty.

And beneath it all, the growing awareness that some secrets are not content to remain buried.

Whether the greatest mystery proves to be the estate itself or the increasingly undeniable connection between its newest master and its most trusted guide remains to be seen.

Until then, dear readers, keep your ears open, your observations discreet, and your teacups full.

One never knows what Hartleigh Hall may choose to reveal next.

— The Teatime Tattler

❧══════════ ❦ ══════════❧

A Legacy of Lies

Welcome to Hartleigh Hall…

The house knows what the heart refuses to confess.

When Nathaniel Draycott inherits the Hartleigh title in name but not in blood, he expects ledgers, land, and the quiet burden of stewardship. What he finds instead is a house that resists accounting, an estate that balances on paper while something beneath it remains unclaimed.

Clara Whitmore has built her life on discipline and silence, serving at Eleanor’s side in a house that watches as closely as any living thing. She knows every passage, every locked room, and every rule that keeps her past buried. What she does not expect is the new duke’s gaze, precise, persistent, and far too perceptive.

As Nathaniel begins to uncover discrepancies between Hartleigh’s records and its reality, Clara becomes both his most valuable guide and the one person he cannot safely trust. Each corridor they share tightens the web of suspicion and attraction neither can afford. A storm-lit encounter shatters their restraint, binding them in a secret neither can name without consequence.

But Hartleigh keeps its own accounts. Missing jewels, a sealed inheritance, and a shadow from Clara’s past threaten to destroy more than reputation. To survive, Nathaniel must learn whether the woman who moves unseen through the house is its greatest danger, or the only one who can help him uncover the truth.

In a place where lineage is uncertain and every silence carries consequences, desire may prove the most perilous revelation of all.

A Legacy of Lies is a gothic romance of buried secrets, haunted inheritance, found courage, and a love that refuses to be silenced.

❧ ❦ ❧

The rustle of newsprint disturbed the morning quiet.

“Mr. Greaves, have you seen the latest from the Teatime Tattler?”

“Me, Your Grace?” said the butler sounding faintly scandalized as he settled a silver tray on the table with practiced precision. “Certainly not.”

The Dowager Duchess lowered the paper a fraction. Somewhere beyond the windows, rain tapped softly against the glass. The scent of tea drifted upward with the steam.

“I see.”

A pause. Then Greaves cleared his throat.

“Although…”

The paper lowered another inch.

“I did find one particular observation rather insightful.”

“Did you indeed?”

“‘Hartleigh Hall, it appears, has other ideas.'”

The corner of Eleanor’s mouth twitched. “A remarkably perceptive fellow, this Tattler.”

“So it would seem, Your Grace.”

Another pause settled comfortably between them.

“If that will be all, Your Grace.”

“Yes, Greaves.”

The butler turned toward the door.

“And Greaves?”

He stopped.

“Do tell the Tattler he did rather well with this one.”

“Very good, Your Grace.” The door closed softly behind him.

Whether Mr. Greaves ever delivered the message remains one of Hartleigh Hall’s lesser mysteries.

Links to A Legacy of Lies:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Legacy-Lies-Historical-Hartleigh-Inheritance-ebook/dp/B0H37SQ5Q4

Universal Link:  https://books2read.com/HI-LegacyofLies

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/a-legacy-of-lies-a-regency-historical-romance-the-hartleigh-inheritance-book-1-by-ruth-a-casie

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/252819794-a-legacy-of-lies

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author Ruth A. Casie writes historical romance filled with emotional depth, compelling characters, and stories where love is earned, tested, and ultimately triumphant.

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