Because history is fun and love is worth working for

Author: Susana Ellis

Fathers and Daughters

12 January 1812

Park Street, Mayfair, London

“Number 14,” announced the hackney driver, pulling up outside a row of neat, brick townhouses, all trimmed in white, fronted in black wrought iron and darkly lit by a handful of lamp posts. George was accustomed to returning home in darkness, but he’d left the office more than an hour earlier than usual and it was already dark. London winters were always dark. There were days when the only light he saw was when he went to the windowed waiting area to greet a client.

Detailed view of a typical british red brick mansion

George tossed a coin to the driver and strode toward the door of his sister’s home, wondering what Eliza needed to discuss with him so urgently. It had to be something to do with Louise, he conjectured. Although he had the impression that his daughter was quite happily settled with her aunt’s family by now. He knew she had bonded with her much-younger cousins and Eliza declared her a delightful addition to the household. So what could have gone wrong?

“Good evening, Mr. Durand. Mrs. Childers is expecting you.”

The butler led him upstairs to Eliza’s sitting room, where he found her at her writing desk. She put down her pen when she saw him and rose to greet him with a fond embrace.

“George! How good of you to come so soon! I hope my scribbled note did not alarm you unnecessarily. Nothing dreadful has occurred, after all. It’s just that I have so many things to do now. My mind is scattered in so many directions since William told me the news.”

“News?” George’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to imagine what sort of news would have sent his generally level-headed sister into such a tizzy.

Eliza twisted her wedding ring on her finger. “William has accepted a new post, George. Quite an honor, really. We are all very proud of him, of course. But to move the entire household to St. Petersburg—if only we had more time. I hardly know where to start!”

George blinked. “You are moving to St. Petersburg?”

“Yes. In a month’s time. Lord Cathcart chose William personally to serve with his staff. He is wanted straight away, but thankfully, William said he would not go on ahead and leave me to make the journey unaccompanied.” She brought a shaky hand to her forehead. “There is so much to do, George. Decisions to make about packing and servants and—”

“—Louise,” finished George. “You needn’t worry about my daughter, Eliza. I shall take her back to St. Albans with me tonight, and her belongings can be sent later.”

“Oh!” Eliza’s eyes widened. “I didn’t mean to imply that Louise is a burden, George. Not at all. The children love her—we all do—and we would be pleased to take her with us, as part of our family.”

George blinked. They wanted to take his daughter to Russia? Where he wouldn’t see her for years?

“You can’t be serious.”

Eliza took his arm. “But I am, George. We are. And Louise is eager to go. Aux anges, in fact. It will be so good for her, you know, to meet new people, experience other cultures. We will be on the invitation list for the most exclusive balls and receptions—just think how thrilling it will be for her to socialize with dukes and princes!”

George pulled away from his sister. “Have you lost your mind? She’s only fifteen, Eliza! She won’t come out for at least two more years, and besides, I don’t want her to be encouraged to see herself as part of the European aristocracy. Her grandfather’s title was lost at the guillotine, and if it were not for all the false hope instilled in her head by her mother and grandmother, she’d be content with her situation as the daughter of a solicitor.” He began pacing in front of the fireplace.

Eliza sighed. “I know that was a bone of contention between you and Genny for years before she died, but George, Louise is happy with us. We will love and protect her as though she were our own daughter. What will you—a man alone—do for her if she remains? Especially when you spend nearly all waking hours at your place of business?”

What indeed? He hadn’t been much of a father to her, even before the carriage accident that took her mother nearly two years ago. He’d left all that to Genny, and then, to Eliza. But he’d never meant it to be a permanent placement. It was simply a temporary solution that had continued primarily because of his own indecision.

Which ended now. He stopped pacing and straightened his spine. “No.”

He’d hire a governess. Perhaps find a gentlewoman who could be more of a companion of sorts, who would take over the tasks of the mother she no longer had. Louise did have a father, though, and he determined then and there that he would start behaving like a father from that point on.

Because Louise was all he had. Without her, he was alone, and he didn’t really want to be alone.

“She won’t be happy,” warned Eliza.

“Well, well,” said George, unmoved. “I daresay she’ll get over it.”

Does Louise indeed “get over it” as her father predicts? To find out, you’ll have to read Valuing Vanessa, Book 2 of The Hertfordshire Hoydens, which will appear in the Bluestocking Belles’ 2016 holiday anthology, Holly and Hopeful Hearts.

In the meantime, why not read Treasuring Theresa, Book 1 of the series?

About Treasuring Theresa

Theresa Cover Front 200x310 WEBLady Theresa despises London society. What’s worse is that she has to attend the betrothal ball of the young man she expected to marry. To deflect all the pitiful glances from the other guests, she makes a play for the most striking gentleman there—who happens to be her Cousin Damian, who is everything she despises.

Damian, Lord Clinton sees a desperate young lady with no social graces, and it solidifies his opinion that country folk are beneath him. But it so happens that he is the heir to that young lady’s father’s title and estate, and the time comes when he finds himself obliged to spend some time there.

Thrown together, both Damian and Theresa discover each other’s hidden depths. But are their differences too much to overcome to make a successful match?

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About the Author

Susana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

Vanessa’s Dilemma

April 1810, Piccadilly Street, London

“Vanessa! So this is where you’ve got to! Mama is beyond vexed with you for slipping away during my fitting!”

HATCHARDS2 copy

Hatchard’s Bookshop, Piccadilly Street

Vanessa’s head jerked back as she slammed the book shut with a definitive smack and gaped at her younger sister, whose pixie-like appearance was contradicted by the sharp tone of her voice.

“I’m so sorry. I only meant to find a new book. What time is it? Surely I haven’t been here more than ten minutes or so.”

Eugenia rolled her emerald green eyes, her arms crossed over her chest. “We’ve been searching for you more than half an hour. Mama had to reschedule your fitting since Madame LaFleur had another appointment.”

She dropped her arms and reached into her reticule for a handkerchief. “Really, Vanessa, I know it must be difficult for you to look forward to my wedding in view of the fact that you are my older sister, but can you not at least make the effort to avoid antagonizing our mother? You know how she gets when things don’t go her way. The entire house will be in an uproar and there will be no peace for anyone.”

She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, and Vanessa, overcome with contrition for her behavior and compassion for her sister, rose to embrace her, the book carefully laid on the bench.

“I am so sorry, Genie. I don’t mean to be so ungenerous. Of course I am delighted at the news of your betrothal. You and Reese are perfect for each other, and you deserve a magnificent wedding. Please forgive me for being so thoughtless! It’s just that—you and Mama were busy with the modiste and I thought I could just slip out for a moment to see if Hatchard’s had any new novels.” She swallowed. “The time got away from me.”

Eugenia stroked her hair gently. “I know this can’t be easy for you, my dear. Not after what happened in the past. I almost feel guilty for finding my own happiness so quickly and unexpectedly when you have had to endure so much.” She stepped back and grasped Vanessa’s shoulders, looking at her directly. “Wedding aside, it’s time for you to move ahead with your life. Find some worthwhile occupation… a charity, perhaps. Something to get you out of the house before Mother’s constant carping makes you fit for Bedlam.”

Vanessa wanted to argue that she was doing well enough without her sister’s advice, but the lie just wouldn’t fall off her tongue. Slinking off to her bedchamber at every opportune moment to bury herself in books and write bad poetry was not really much of a life. Especially not with having to endure her mother’s constant nagging about her appearance, her unmarried state, and her bluestocking tendencies. Eugenia and their mother’s obsessive devotion to her had made life at Sedgely House bearable; once Eugenia was whisked off to Hertfordshire with her gentleman-farmer husband, Mrs. Sedgely’s attention would be focused entirely on remaking her disappointing older daughter.

She leaned in and kissed her sister on the cheek. “You constantly amaze me, little sister. Just seventeen and not only are you about to become a bride, but you have the maturity and wisdom to offer your spinster sister some excellent advice. If I involve myself in some worthwhile charity, perhaps Mama will give up pestering me to find a husband.”

Eugenia threw back her head and laughed. “I assure you she will never give up that particular pleasure. But at least you will have the opportunity to escape the house and her badgering, and at the same time do some good for the unfortunate.” She chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “No doubt you will meet a great deal of interesting ladies—and gentlemen—and who knows what will happen from there?”

Vanessa grinned, aiming a playful swat at Eugenia’s upper arm. “You mustn’t hold your breath. No doubt any gentlemen involved in such schemes are stout, white-haired solicitors old enough to be my father.”

“But they may have eligible sons,” her sister suggested with a smile. “In any case, you will make the acquaintance of many worthy individuals that you might never have encountered in the ballrooms of the ton. People who value more in life than simply wealth and titles.”

“Mother will hate that. You know she has always aspired to have lofty connections.”

“My Reese is a squire’s son, a gentleman farmer. No title. No more than moderately well-to-do. Besides, she can’t but recall the mess that occurred with your betrothal to a baron’s son.” Seeing Vanessa’s face whiten, she grasped a hand and squeezed it. “Now don’t keep berating yourself over it, Vanessa. It was years ago, and it wasn’t your fault he ran off to Scotland with a milkmaid. You didn’t love each other. You agreed to the betrothal only to please Mama.”

Vanessa drew a deep, calming breath and smiled shakily. “True. I’m so glad that you were able to find and fight for your true love, Genie. Your Reese is a fortunate man to have won so wise a wife.”

Eugenia flushed. “Just between you and me, I haven’t the faintest idea how to be a wife. I shouldn’t want Reese to become disappointed with me.”

Vanessa shook her head. “That man loves you, Genie. I’m sure he worships every part of you, right down to your toenails.”

“My toenails?” Eugenia’s giggles reverberated through the shop, and the slender gentleman behind the counter sent them a stern look.

“Along with the other parts of you he hasn’t seen yet,” Vanessa continued. “He hasn’t, has he?”

Eugenia tilted her head as she reflected on it. “No, I don’t think so. Not my toenails, at any rate.” She bit her lip. “But seriously, Vanessa, I do have some concerns. Not about Reese, but about a childhood friend of his, the earl’s daughter from a neighboring estate. When we went to call upon her the other day, I could see that the news of our engagement was a devastating blow to her.”

“Ah yes, Lady Theresa Granville. She had her presentation the year before mine. I heard about her, but she’s been absent from the social scene since.”

“That’s because she’s completely fixated on farming, maybe even more so than Reese is. They’re constantly together talking about agricultural nonsense, and the truth is, I’ve done nothing more than arrange cut flowers from the garden. I could study farming every day and never have as much knowledge as she has in her little finger.”

“Ah, but Reese chose you. He’s had years to propose to her and chose not to do so. I’m quite sure he doesn’t expect you to turn into Lady Theresa.”

Eugenia smiled shakily. “I hope you’re right. I know he loves me. I just hope I can persuade Lady Theresa to accept me as Reese’s wife. Her friendship is important to him—to both of them, really—and I should really dislike to be the reason it came to an end.”

Vanessa squeezed her sister’s hand. “She’ll learn to love you, my dear. Everyone does, when they get to know you.”

The shop door opened noisily, and a scowling gentleman peered in.

“Excuse me, ladies, but is that your carriage holding up traffic in the street? The lady inside has been waving her umbrella out the window for quite some time.”

“Mama!”

Both girls stared at each other in horror before they raced to the door of the bookshop and shakily boarded the carriage, mumbling apologies that went unheard as Mrs. Sedgely railed at them relentlessly.

Vanessa leaned her head against the squabs and closed her eyes.

Genie is right. I need to take charge of my life. Now… how shall I go on from here?

About Treasuring Theresa

Theresa Cover Front 200x310 WEBLady Theresa despises London society. What’s worse is that she has to attend the betrothal ball of the young man she expected to marry. To deflect all the pitiful glances from the other guests, she makes a play for the most striking gentleman there—who happens to be her Cousin Damian, who is everything she despises.

Damian, Lord Clinton sees a desperate young lady with no social graces, and it solidifies his opinion that country folk are beneath him. But it so happens that he is the heir to that young lady’s father’s title and estate, and the time comes when he finds himself obliged to spend some time there.

Thrown together, both Damian and Theresa discover each other’s hidden depths. But are their differences too much to overcome to make a successful match?

Treasuring Theresa is Book 1 of The Hertfordshire Hoydens series. Originally published in the Blush Cotillion line at Ellora’s Cave, Treasuring Theresa has been re-released with a brand new cover by the fabulous Mari Christie. Book 2, Cherishing Charlotte, will be coming in the autumn, and Book 3, Valuing Vanessa, will appear in the Bluestocking Belles’ next holiday anthology.

Treasuring Theresa was a finalist in the 2013 EPIC Awards.

AmazonBarnes & NobleKoboiBooks

About the Author

P9 copySusana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

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Marnie Gets Her Revenge

11 June 1790, Gracechurch Street, London

It was late when I reached London and the temporary haven of my foster mum’s home. I hadn’t slept in days, partly out of fear of discovery by his lordship’s men and partly because the babe fussed so much. The brat was always hungry and I had no idea how to feed her. I was tempted to leave her with the family who took us in the first night—the farmer’s wife who found a way to feed her cow’s milk seemed that taken with her—but then his lordship would get her back and how would that serve my purpose? But oh, if I had known how much trouble it would be to sneak off with a puling infant while trying to keep out of the way of a powerful earl, I might have considered some other form of revenge.

Gypsy girl“Open up, mum, it’s me, Marnie!”

Finally, the door opened enough for Mum Herne to peer at me in the darkness.

“Marnie? It is you! For goodness sake, I thought you were in Derbyshire… Come in, I’m so glad to see you… it’s been ages since you took that position with the Cranbournes. Oh!”

She had just shut the door behind us when she saw the babe in my arms. “You have… a child?”

I held the babe out to her, pleased for the respite. I never realized how much it could hurt to hold a babe—even a tiny one—for hours at a time. “A girl child.”

Mum Herne cuddled her in her arms. “Such pretty blue eyes. A blonde,” she commented as she looked over my dark gypsy coloring with questioning eyes. “Must look like her father?”

“The spittin’ image,” I assured her. “The earl was a towhead when he was a babe, although his hair has darkened a bit since then.”

Mum’s head jerked back. “The earl is her father? The Earl of Cranbourne?”

I nodded as I looked hopefully in the direction of the kitchen. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a bite of bread and cheese? I haven’t had anything to eat since this morning.” When I’d managed to lift a meat pie off a pie maker’s cart without him noticing. But she didn’t need to know that. The mention of food had the intended effect of distracting her—at least temporarily—from the lecture about my morals I knew would be coming.

“Yes, of course. In the larder.” She looked down at the babe in her arms. “And the child? When did you feed her last? Looks downright poorly, she does.”

I shook my head and collapsed into the nearest chair. “So sorry, mum. It’s just that—I’m famished. We’ve been one step ahead of his lordship all the way, and the worry of it all just took my milk away. I was hoping you might have some cow’s milk for the poor mite… it’s only by the grace of God that I’ve found a few kindly folk along the way to keep her from starving.”

Mum’s eyes widened. “You’re running away from… the earl? Why on earth…? Never mind, you can tell me the whole later. Right now this child needs tending.”

An hour later, the babe asleep in a makeshift bed in mum’s bedchamber, she and I sat at the kitchen table and I told her my story. She already knew I’d been a maid in the household of the Cranbournes and that I’d agreed to travel all the way to Derbyshire because I’d hoped to catch the eye of the comely earl. She’d warned me against it, telling me it was foolish to set my cap at such a high falultin’ gent and that it would all come to no good—and while I hated having to admit she was right—she seemed to accept my story at face value. Some of it was even true. Maybe.

The story I told her was that the earl seduced me without any intention of marriage, all the while he was courting another woman. The affair continued after his marriage, and when I found myself with child, I was turned out without a character by her ladyship. I had no place else to go but the workhouse, but when the babe was born so pretty and so much like her father, I thought he might be willing to part with a few quid a month for food and lodgings. Little did I know that he would be so desperate to keep the babe’s existence from his wife that he would threaten to take her away from me and kill her! Which is what sent me flying from Derbyshire.

I’ve always been good at acting—my birth mother always said I should tread the boards at Covent Garden—and Mum Herne knew this, but I think the presence of the poor babe set off her maternal instincts and all she could think of was how to protect poor little Annie from the evil earl who threatened her life.

That was when we heard the sound of horses charging down the street.

“It’s his lordship!” I cried. “He’s found us! Quick, find us a place to hide!”

I ran to the bedchamber to pick up Annie.

“The earl?” But how…?”

I reminded her of the reference she had sent with me when I applied for the position. No doubt they would have gone back to ascertain the direction. She bit her lip and then shook her head.

“There’s no place here he won’t find you. A rich and powerful earl? I can’t imagine how you managed to get so far!”

Then a strange look came over face. “Although perhaps there is a way. We’ll have to bind the babe securely, though…”

By the time the loud banging at the door began, she had already bound the babe tightly around me with a red wool scarf and pressed a small black stone into my hand.

“I’m sending you into the future,” she whispered, urging me toward the back of the house. “Only for a short time. I’ll send you a signal when the coast is clear. But you mustn’t lose this stone.”

“The future?” I knew mum had a gift—’the sight’—which quite a few of our clan claimed to have—but traveling through time? I’d never heard of anyone who could do this, and I wasn’t sure I believed she could either.

That was when we heard the door give way and the sound of loud voices and footsteps.

Mum gave me a push and I felt myself floating through darkness before I felt myself collide with something big and heavy. My last thought before my soul abandoned my body was that at least I had my revenge. The Cranbournes would never find their baby now.

About A Home for Helena

A HOME FOR HELENA 150x220Believing that she has been misplaced in time, Helena Lloyd travels back two hundred years in an attempt to find out where she belongs.

Widowed father James Walker has no intention of remarrying until he makes the acquaintance of his daughter’s lovely new governess.

Lady Pendleton, a time-traveling Regency lady herself, suspects that these two belong together. First, however, she must help Helena discover her true origins—and hopefully, a home where she belongs.

A Home for Helena is Book 2 of The Lady P Chronicles.

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About the Author

P9 copySusana Ellis has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. A former teacher, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

WebsiteFacebookTwitterNewsletter

Lady Theresa’s Letdown

Reese engaged to be married? It couldn’t be true. Could it?

Theresa stared in astonishment at the couple seated on the threadbare divan across from her, hands clasped together and beaming with happiness.

She’d been certain that she and Reese would formalize their understanding before the year was out. She was twenty-four and he twenty-eight, and he’d confided recently that after several seasons in London, his father was urging him to marry and set up his nursery. Why, she’d thought—assumed—that he was signaling his intention to make her an offer of marriage. Particularly when she’d received his note indicating that he had something of importance to tell her when he came to call later that morning.

She’d dressed with especial care for the occasion, assuming, as her father had when she’d shown him the message, that their good friend and neighbor would be requesting Theresa’s hand in marriage. Even Molly, the one remaining housemaid, had a silly smile on her face as she struggled with the comb and hot iron to produce a more elegant coiffure than the simple chignon Theresa normally sported.

And she hadn’t done a bad job at all, Theresa decided, considering her lack of experience. It wasn’t all housemaids who could double as a lady’s maid when the household staff was reduced.

In the end, it didn’t really matter. Because Reese, when he’d arrived, wasn’t alone. He’d brought with him his new fiancée, one Eugenia Sedgely, a pretty redhead who couldn’t be more than seventeen years old.

Theresa struggled to maintain her composure. If there was anything worse than having ones hopes for the future dashed to pieces, it had to be allowing the originators of her pain to see it.

“Uh—congratulations,” she said, swallowing hard. “When is the… uh… happy event?”

“June,” broke in the blushing bride-to-be. “Mama likes a June wedding, and well—“ she broke off and her face turned scarlet.

“We see no reason to delay,” finished Reese. Good heavens, was he blushing as well? Theresa couldn’t recall ever seeing his face so red, not even after a hard day’s work in the summer sun.

“The betrothal ball is to be held in three weeks,” volunteered Reese’s fiancée (Fiancée? How could this be happening?) “Mama is off her feet day and night with the preparations. It’s to be quite a splash.”

“The Sedgelys have a ballroom at their London home,” explained Reese. “Father is over the top delighted, of course.”

Of course, thought Theresa vacantly. Were Reese and his father, Squire Bromfield, the only ones in Hertfordshire who hadn’t expected the two of them to make a match of it? Inseparable since childhood, she and Reese had done everything together, had so much in common—farming, estate management, fishing, the gamut. Not to mention the countless assemblies and parties they’d attended arm-in-arm. How was it possible that Reese, at the very least, had not comprehended Theresa’s expectations? She could not fathom it.

“It is our fondest hope that you and your father will attend,” he added. “And perhaps… Lord Clinton would consider honoring us with his presence also?”

Lord Clinton? Oh, Damian Ashby, her father’s distant cousin and heir to his estate. It took her fuzzy brain a moment to recall the title he’d assumed at his father’s death several years ago. So he was a viscount now. No doubt he’d become even more puffed-up with his own worth than ever before.

His fiancée’s face lit up. “Oh, do you think he might?” she asked excitedly. “Mama will be in alt if London’s foremost Corinthian were to attend her ball.”

Reese gazed at her fondly. “To be sure, he should do, my sweet, since one day he will be our closest neighbor.” Then he flushed as he realized the implications of his statement. “That is, many years from now when he becomes the next earl.”

The petite Eugenia looked as though she might swoon at the thought of the lofty Lord Clinton residing on the next estate over from theirs.

“Indeed,” said Theresa drily. “Father will write to urge him to make an appearance. And we will both be honored to attend, of course.”

She glanced up at the Gainsborough over the mantel and sighed. It would have to go the way of the other household treasures to the art dealer in Hitchin. Surely it would bring enough to finance a trip to London and perhaps a new suit for her father. She still had the marine blue gown that hadn’t seen much wear in the past year.

But as for how she would manage to endure the agony of dancing at the betrothal ball of the man she always thought would be her husband… she could think of no strategem for dealing with that particular problem.

About Treasuring Theresa

Theresa Cover Front 200x310 WEBLady Theresa despises London society. What’s worse is that she has to attend the betrothal ball of the young man she expected to marry. To deflect all the pitiful glances from the other guests, she makes a play for the most striking gentleman there—who happens to be her Cousin Damian, who is everything she despises.

Damian, Lord Clinton sees a desperate young lady with no social graces, and it solidifies his opinion that country folk are beneath him. But it so happens that he is the heir to that young lady’s father’s title and estate, and the time comes when he finds himself obliged to spend some time there.

Thrown together, both Damian and Theresa discover each other’s hidden depths. But are their differences too much to overcome to make a successful match?

Treasuring Theresa is Book 1 of The Hertfordshire Hoydens series. Originally published in the Blush Cotillion line at Ellora’s Cave, Treasuring Theresa has been re-released with a brand new cover by the fabulous Mari Christie. Book 2, Cherishing Charlotte, will be coming in the autumn, and Book 3, Valuing Vanessa, will appear in the Bluestocking Belles’ next holiday anthology.

Treasuring Theresa was a finalist in the 2013 EPIC Awards.

Amazon • Barnes & Noble • Kobo • iBooks

About the Author

P9 copySusana has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. Voracious reading led to a passion for writing, and her fascination with romance and people of the past landed her firmly in the field of historical romance.

A teacher in her former life, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and central Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

Website • Facebook • Twitter • Newsletter

Susana Interviews James Walker from A Home for Helena

Susana: Thank you for coming today, Mr. Walker. I understand you are quite a busy man. How generous of you to squeeze in some time to tell us a bit about you before your story is revealed in A Home for Helena.

James (rolling his eyes): Yes, well, Her Ladyship—that is, Lady Pendleton—made it quite clear that it was in my best interests to do so. That woman is a force beyond nature. I thank the heavens every day that we are not connected by blood, although it is quite bad enough that she considers my wife to be her protegée. Sir Henry—my neighbor—has the misfortune to be her son by marriage. But he did know what he was getting into when he wed Lady Sarah. [Sighing] In any case, they seem to be rubbing along quite well—three children, the most recent a boy. Not the heir, of course, since he has a son by his first marriage.

Susana: Er-yes, Lady Pendleton can be a bit of a nosey-parker, particularly when her family is involved. However, I have asked you here today to talk a bit about yourself for the benefit of my readers who are waiting eagerly to hear about my upcoming story about Helena and yourself.

James (pulling at his collar): Yes, of course. Unfortunately, my life is not that much different than most English gentlemen. At least it wasn’t, until I met Helena. Now her story is the remarkable one.

Susana: Indeed. But your part is just as important. Tell us about your early life.

James (sighing): Very well. I was born into a family of gentleman farmers. Unfortunately, by the time he died, my father had lost two of his three estates from gambling and reckless investments, and the only one remaining belonged to me through my mother. He still managed to run it down to the ground before he died, though, and I’ve been struggling to build it back up for a decade. [Smiles] It’s been quite a challenge, but I’m pleased to say that Melbourne Manor has begun to turn a handsome profit.

Susana: Melbourne Manor. Might you be related to the prominent London Melbournes?

James: My mother was a distant cousin of the current Viscount Melbourne. It’s not a connection I wish to claim, however. My father’s recklessness is enough to live down; the scandalous doings of the Melbournes are too much.

Susana: Oh, the Melbourne Miscellany. Quite remarkable how the family has remained so prominent in Whig circles when everyone knows Lady Melbourne’s children are not her husband’s.

James (rubbing his temple): Indeed. But the fact is they do socialize in the highest circles, and I suppose I am in the minority for not wishing to promote the connection. [Clearing his throat]. I’ve even considered changing the name of the estate, but I’ve been advised that doing so might have the opposite effect.

Susana: What would you change it to?

James (laughing): I’ve suggested Helena’s Haven, but she just rolls her eyes. She doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with Melbourne Manor.  It’s tradition, she says. She quite likes having roots, since she grew up without any herself. But we both agree that we won’t have our children raised around that particular branch of the family.

Susana: You have a daughter from your first marriage, do you not? Can you tell us a little about her?

James: By all means. Annabelle is a precocious six-year-old. It’s through her that I met Helena—my current wife. When I lost the last in a long line of governesses, my neighbors the Newsomes invited Annabelle to stay with them for a time and share their governess. Helena—Miss Lloyd at that time, of course—was there for a few weeks as a temporary replacement, and then… well, things have never been the same.

Susana: You’ll have to explain that last statement. What was it about Helena Lloyd that changed your life?

James (with a deep sigh): For one thing, she’s not a plain drab thing with a sour look on her face. She’s not only very pretty, but dresses like a duke’s daughter. She’s American, but that doesn’t completely explain the remarkable manner of her speech, nor the astonishing ideas she advocates. There was a time when I suspected she was a follower of that woman Mary Wollstonecraft, who advocates for women’s rights. But for some reason, even that couldn’t tear me away from her. [Stares at the floor] I almost lost her, though. When I finally discovered the truth. For awhile there I thought she was a lunatic—or else I was—and I couldn’t decide which was worse.

Susana: And—?

James (shrugging): If loving Helena means accepting an alternate reality, then so be it. Whatever comes, we’ll face it together. [Winking] And it certainly doesn’t hurt to have a wife who has a talent for predicting the future. [He grins and rises from his chair.]

Susana: Indeed not. Thank you so much for coming today, Mr. Walker. Please give my best wishes to your delightful family.

James (bowing): My pleasure, Ms. Ellis. My congratulations on the upcoming release of A Home for Helena. I do hope your readers enjoy the story of how Helena found her home.

About A Home for Helena

A HOME FOR HELENA 150x220Believing that she has been misplaced in time, Helena Lloyd travels back two hundred years in an attempt to find out where she belongs.

Widowed father James Walker has no intention of remarrying until he makes the acquaintance of his daughter’s lovely new governess.

Lady Pendleton, a time-traveling Regency lady herself, suspects that these two belong together. First, however, she must help Helena discover her true origins—and hopefully, a home where she belongs.

This is Book 2 of The Lady P Chronicles.

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About the Author

P9 copySusana Ellis has always had stories in her head waiting to come out, especially when she learned to read and her imagination began to soar. A former teacher, Susana lives in Toledo, Ohio in the summer and Florida in the winter. She is a member of the Central Florida Romance Writers and the Beau Monde chapters of RWA and Maumee Valley Romance Inc.

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