Author: Bluestocking Belles Page 17 of 39

Scandalous Ducal Family Continues to Shock

On July 3, 2021

As the Little Season draws to an end, one question is on every person’s lips. “Who is Elias W.?”

We understand from reliable sources that this young boy was found, dear reader, in a workhouse! A child of the gutter, we might be forgiven for assuming, and of no possible interest to proper families. However, his reception into one of the highest households in the land suggests that at least one of his parents was of very high birth, indeed.

All over London, people are wondering who it was. The W. family, despite their high estate, have had their share of scandal–generation after generation of rakes, at least two of whom (now sadly no longer with us) might have sired the boy. Since one was the father and one the brother of the lovely lady who has taken the boy home with her, perhaps all is explained.

And now, or so it is said, the lady is looking for a husband, after years of refusing all offers. Is it for the boy’s sake? Beyond a doubt, she will find one. She is no longer in the first flush of her youth, but she is still one of the great Diamonds of the ton. And the loveliness of her person pales in comparison to the loveliness of her dowry.

Still, should it prove (as some have whispered) that the link between Elias and the W. family is on the maternal rather than the paternal side, any gentleman might think twice about the cost of bringing such a scandal under his roof. Even the new Viscount B., who has been seen much in the lady’s company.

Like Elias, Lord B. has been sprung on Society without warning, when all believed that Lord L., his father, had male offspring. He has, by all accounts, been practicing medicine in the Royal Navy. An odd pass time for a future earl, it is true, but not as odd as continuing to work as a doctor in one of London’s worst slums.

Still, a man who does not turn up his nose at providing treatment to thieves and prostitutes might tolerate a workhouse brat as a ward for the sake of beauty, whether of the lady or her delightful money. Perhaps, after all, the Diamond and the Doctor are made for one another.

To Claim the Long-Lost Lover

Novel 3 of The Return of the Mountain King

Sarah Winderfield has refused every offer of marriage she has received since Nathaniel Beauclair convinced her to run away with him seven years ago, and then disappeared without a word or a trace. But now she needs a husband. She has a child to love and to protect, and the child needs a father.

She does not expect to meet Nate also on the marriage mart. Should she let him explain? Can she believe him?

Dragged back to England to feed his father’s pride in family, Nate refuses to give into the man’s demands that he take a wife. The only woman he will ever love is lost to him, married to a husband chosen by her father—or so his abducters said seven years ago, while they were beating him.

But when Nate finds that Sarah is still single, he rushes to London. Surely, they can find again the promise they believed in when they were young?

Through a labyrinth of old rumours and new enemies, two long-lost lovers must decide whether or not to claim one another, and win the bright future they both desire.

Preorder links (releases 30 July)

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B096RLJJBZ

Links to other retailers: Books2Read: https://books2read.com/CMK-Claim

Excerpt

“You look lovely this evening,” Nate told Libby, as she joined him in the foyer.

His father’s wife glowed with pleasure. “And you look very fine yourself, Bentham,” she replied.

He bowed and offered his elbow. “Madam, your carriage awaits.”

“I am so looking forward to this evening, Nate. Perhaps tonight you might meet the young lady who will be your wife!”

Nate smiled and nodded, keeping his reservations to himself. Not unless my Sarah is present. But she is not yet in town, so it won’t be tonight. And even if she was in town, she would surely not be visiting the Hamners. Lady Hamner had been a ward of the Duchess of Haverford, and—according to Libby—the Dukes of Haverford and Winshire had been feuding since Winshire arrived back in the country with a whole quiverful of foreign-born children.

He allowed day dreams about their next meeting to while away the carriage ride and the wait in the street for other carriages to move out of the way. Libby continued to chatter, but she seldom required a response beyond ‘Is that right’ and ‘If you say so’.

It must have been a good thirty minutes before they were announced by Lord and Lady Hamner’s butler. Libby led him over to the Hamners to be introduced, and Nate looked around as he crossed the room.

A profile caught his eye. He shrugged it off. He had seen Sarah wherever he went for the past seven years, and a closer look always disclosed a stranger. This stranger turned towards him, and he stopped in his tracks, cataloguing changes. The fair hair was slightly darker. The heart-shaped face he remembered had matured into a perfect oval. The slender body of the long-remembered girl had ripened to fulfil its promise. But, beyond any doubt, Lady Sarah Winderfield stood on the other side of the drawing room, a smile on her lips as she talked with her friends.

Her gaze turned toward him just as Libby tugged on his arm. “Bentham! Are you well?” He let her pull him along, and Sarah’s gaze drifted away. He wanted to cross the room to her; accost her; demand that she recognise him and all they’d once meant to one another.

Some modicum of sense kept him stumbling after his step-mother. Men change between seventeen and twenty-four, he reminded himself. And people who have been through experiences like mine more than most.

Still, of all the meetings he’d imagined, he’d never envisaged one in which she didn’t know him.

Another Scandal: This Time From the Grave

By Bluestocking Belles

On June 30, 2021

In Teatime Tattler

To this seasoned reporter, the entire episode was shameful, dear reader. After returning from the war, Christian, the Duke of Randford, arrived at his solicitor’s office bearing the will of his late half brother, Lord Meriwether Vareck. Once he arrived, the duke faced the most disastrous of calamities. Rumors abound that his late half brother created a scandal to end all scandals. Yet, it appears the duke is also making one of his own.

It seems the celebrated war hero duke failed to offer his sincerest condolences to the first bereaved widow, Lady Meriwether Vareck, the former Katherine Greer. For the record, the Duke of Randford never bothered to meet his late half brother’s wife before he delivered the will. Nor had he met his late brother’s other wives.

Indeed, you read the words correctly. The duke’s half brother fancied wives. He had three tucked away in different corners of England. He couldn’t add to his collection after he’d drowned in a mud puddle during a stormy midnight steeplechase.

Fortunately for the three widows, the exalted duke had a change of heart and called upon them the next day. A spectator walking nearby Lady Meriwether’s home said that the duke had three bouquets of his prized roses in hand. I suspect they were for the three widows. Ah, to be a bird at the window for that titillating conversation, dear reader. One source informed me that the duke offered to repay their lost dowries his half brother spent. However, I find such talk unreliable. Who would want to have anything to do with such women? They face ruination in every sense of the word.

To compound matters, who exactly is Lady Meriwether? No one has heard anything about the woman except she owns a linen business. It’s unseemly she invited the other wives to live with her. Sources share the females of polite society highly regard Lady Meriwether. Even the Prince Regent has even expressed an interest in having her decorate his Royal Pavilion.

But the scandal grows. One of the solicitor’s law clerks whispered that the duke and Lady Meriwether appeared to be a little too cozy with one another as they try to find a solution to this disgrace. It is this intrepid reporter’s opinion that both should review the Church of England’s rules of affinity and consanguinity. That should put a stop to such nonsense.

Did I mention the second wife is in a delicate condition? Did you know the highest echelons of society once considered the third wife a diamond of the first water during her first Season? Oh, how that diamond has dulled.

The Duke of Randford, who has won the highest regard of all our countrymen, will have difficulty resolving this indignity. But as we discover more about the happenings of the three wives, our loyal readers shall be the first to know.

A DUKE IN TIME

“If…looking for something new with Austen’s spirit, humor, and dashing heroes, they can’t do better than MacGregor.” – Entertainment Weekly

A Duke in Time is the first book in a three-story arc that will have you rooting for leading heroines, searching for lost dowries, and falling for swoon-worthy heroes.

Katherine Vareck is in for the shock of her life when she learns upon her husband Meri’s accidental death that he had married two other women. Her entire business, along with a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a royal supplier, is everything she’s been working for and now could be destroyed if word leaks about the three wives.

Meri’s far more upstanding brother, Christian, Duke of Randford, has no earthly clue how to be of assistance. He spent the better part of his adult years avoiding Meri and the rest of his good-for-nothing family, so to be dragged back into the fold is…problematic. Even more so is the intrepid and beautiful Katherine, whom he cannot be falling for because she’s Meri’s widow. Or can he?

With a textile business to run and a strong friendship forming with Meri’s two other wives, Katherine doesn’t have time for much else. But there’s something about the warm but compellingly taciturn Christian that draws her to him. When an opportunity to partner in a business venture brings them even closer, they’ll have to face their pasts if they want to share each other’s hearts and futures.

Available at these fine retailers:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08FZ8B348/

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iBook’s https://apple.co/36lxQb0

Google Books https://bit.ly/3kdhWEB

Kobo https://bit.ly/3wSY552

Love’s Sweet Arrow: https://shop.lovessweetarrow.com/jannamacgregor

The Sporting Duchess

By Bluestocking Belles

On June 23, 2021

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

We rarely venture into happenings in the West Country, but just this morning received a most unusual letter from our infrequent Falmouth contributor, Mrs. Crowther. She’s been most helpful in the past, sharing far-flung on dits from passengers alighting from the international packets.

But now, she’s related something more, shall we say, shocking. As shocking as events can get in Falmouth. Come to think of it, if the happening she related is to be relied upon, it would be even more shocking in Mayfair. Your editor must admit he’s never quite seen the like of this scandal, which if it had unfolded in London, would have rocked the ton to its core.

Consider this scene: A duke and duchess of the realm race their separate conveyances (pell-mell along a dangerous coastal road) to a local theater performance of Othello in Falmouth. Our correspondent assures us, since we sincerely doubted the veracity of such a tale, Her Grace is first to the theater in her high, sporty curricle with smart, matching grays.

His Grace, the Duke of Sidmouth, follows behind in his heavier, more sedate carriage. Of course, he is also obliged to convey additional guests, but according to reports from reliable bystanders, gamely tries to keep up with Her Grace’s frightening speed.

At the edge of town, the curricle slows to a more sedate pace and then rolls to a stop at the theater near the harbor front. You can imagine the amazement of the crowd outside the theater when Her Grace and the widowed Marchioness of Blandford alight, unaccompanied, and turn over the conveyance and lathered cattle to the tiger. The two women proceed to the ducal family box inside the theater before the arrival of His Grace.

Since no one in the family is prone to gossip, and the servants at Bocollyn are too loyal to offer so much as a peep, speculation has been rampant. However, one footman (after several rounds of ale at a local inn on his day off) did hint to an acquaintance of our correspondent that Her Grace had returned from the ducal honeymoon weeks earlier than the duke, but when pressed would say no more.

About the Book, The Duke’s List

The former Jane Lemon’s overnight transformation into a duchess, thanks to her father’s deathbed maneuverings, has been something of a shock. She’s spent most of her life in London, where her mother’s free-spirited salons brought her into contact with a world of discreet, privileged sensuality. Now she must deal with a stuffy duke who accuses her of being a tarnished woman. He wants a duchess who will make love in the dark of night, without any imaginative embellishments, for the sole purpose of producing an heir. If only he were willing to bend a little her way…

Cornelius, Duke of Sidmouth, has his limits. He assumed his arranged marriage to a Cornwall heiress would go as smoothly as his well-run estate, Bocollyn. A man expects decorum and modesty in his bride, not unbridled sensuality, and wantonness. He can’t believe she left him on their honeymoon in Venice. When he returns home, she’s already there, in charge of his beloved horses and living in his retired stable master’s cottage. Now he must start all over and woo his duchess.

Will she give him a second chance? Will he be able to suspend his pride a little to give her what she needs?

“The Duke’s List,” is live now on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/3c804cR

An Excerpt:

November 1820, Bocollyn House, Cornwall

Sidmouth sipped at his coffee, prepared just as he liked it, and stared out the window of the small, dark parlor at the far rear corner of Bocollyn House. When he’d insisted on taking breakfast there each morning, his housekeeper, Mrs. Smythe, had given him an odd look, but had complied.

None of the servants dared say a word, but they all knew. His Grace, the Duke of Sidmouth, had chosen to take his meals in the smallest, darkest room in his vast manor house because the window looked out on his stable master’s cottage.

He did not presently have a stable master, because he’d delayed replacing old Crofton who’d retired more than a year ago. That decision had come to haunt him now that he’d been bested by his duchess. Her Grace, the sultry and delectable Jane, had occupied the vacated cottage ever since she’d left him and returned to Bocollyn after that fateful night in Venice. He’d apparently not only burned a marital bridge, but chopped the damned thing up into small pieces and built a raging bonfire to consume it.

Across the way, in the stable master’s cottage, his duchess chirruped happily on with his cousin’s son and his ward, Nicholas, at her side, embarrassing proof of the cold ashes of his marriage.

Eight-year-old Nicholas, Marquess of Blandford, and his two slobbering monster mastiffs were temporary guests at Bocollyn. The boy’s mother, Lady Harriet, formerly Marchioness of Blandford, was spending time with her new husband, Lieutenant Bourne, on Sidmouth’s yacht, The Falcon.

His duchess and the boy had formed a mutual admiration society and played endless games of cards. He strongly suspected she was teaching Nicholas to be a Captain Sharp, but could not for the life of him catch the two of them in any untoward tricks. He was allowed to join them at the cottage for supper each evening, but he had to return to his own abode at the end of his nightly drubbing at cards.

The previous night, his duchess had worn a blush-colored beaded silk gown that swayed and rustled with every move of her voluptuous body. It seemed as if each time he joined them for supper, Jane found yet another gown designed to drive him insane.

Once his cousin’s husband returned to his ship and she finally retrieved her tribe of boy, dogs, and their attics-to-let grandmother, he had plans for his duchess. He could barely keep from rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

But for now, he had to be satisfied with staring across his stable yard, like a hungry schoolboy standing in the rain outside a warm bakery with the smell of hot raisin buns heavy in the air.

About the Author

Andrea K. Stein, the daughter of a trucker and an artist, never knew it would take the hard-work ethic of her father to achieve the light-filled magic of her mother’s art. After helping raise a combined family equaling the Brady bunch without Alice, she retired early from a 30-year career as a newspaper and publishing professional and fled to the mountains. She interspersed a seven-year stint as a Colorado ski patroller with nautical adventures as first mate to a crusty, old British delivery captain, accumulating some 20,000 miles at sea. While delivering yachts up and down the Caribbean, she also earned a USCG offshore captain’s license. Now, she tells award-winning tales of the high seas from her writing room in Colorado. She has eleven titles self-published on Amazon.

Andrea can be found at the following online haunts:

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Ten Lords Rejected

By Bluestocking Belles

On June 16, 2021

In Teatime Tattler

London, 1817

In a previous article I mentioned my curiosity with regards to the house party that took place in the home of the Duke of Arscott to see that his daughter, Lady Lucinda Claxton married. Ten lords had been invited and I was anxious to learn which lord she settled upon. Therefore, it came as great surprise when she chose an American. Which then begged the question, why were the ten lords rejected?

One of those ten curiosities has been answered for I am told that the first to leave was Lord Emory Talbot, Viscount Ferrard. I was rather surprised that he’d been invited to begin with as last I’d heard he was not seeking a wife. In all my observations, he’d always preferred young widows to misses.

At first, I thought that perhaps he assumed it was a normal house party, with several guests, and hoped young widows would be present, when in fact, the guest list included few. However, it then came to my attention that he’d not attended for young widows or Lady Lucinda but announced that he’d hoped to gain an introduction to a younger sister, Lady Violet Claxton.

I can think of no two individuals less suited for the other. You see, while Ferrard can often be found in the ballroom, enjoying his status of a wealthy, bachelor viscount, Lady Violet avoided Societal events and when forced to attend she escaped to the gardens at the first opportunity. She spent far more time admiring flowers, plants, and bushes than she ever spent dancing, or even conversing with those in attendance. Further, if Ferrard had wished an introduction, all knew where she could be found as it was no secret that Lady Violet preferred roses to bachelors. Therefore, I’m quite perplexed as to why Lord Ferrard developed a sudden interest in Lady Violet.

Links for COURTSHIP OF CONVENIENCE: https://books2read.com/u/3JRlxX

Release Date: May 18, 2021

Excerpt~

Lady Violet folded her hands on her lap, tilted her chin and looked toward the horizon. Her green eyes narrowed as her lips pursed, as if she were mulling over a problem.

She then glanced at Emory, hummed, then turned away again.

“May I ask what is on your mind.”

“I believe I have a solution that might solve both of our problems, if you are willing of course.”

The only solution was a courtship and then marriage, but as he’d just met Lady Violet, that solution wasn’t an option.

“What I propose is a courtship of convenience.”

“Courtship of convenience?” he repeated, uncertain as to her meaning.

“Yes,” she answered with a nod of her chin. “You shall court me until January sixth and then we will declare that we do not suit. Your father will be satisfied that you spent more than an afternoon of effort, and mine will be satisfied that I allowed a courtship.”

All he could do was stare at her. Such an agreement would placate his father. What he did not know was if Lady Violet might have an ulterior motive, other than pleasing her father.

“But it must be a true courtship, in that we come to know one another, as I don’t wish to lie to my father and say you courted me when we just pretended to do so.”

A fine line to avoid deception, but he understood. Yet, he didn’t trust that this wasn’t a trap to get him to enter into an agreement in hopes that more came of their association. However, while he did not know Lady Violet, he had the oddest feeling that he could trust her and that this scheme was no more or less than what she described.

“As you detest untruth as much as me, I trust that you are in agreement that it must be a true courtship with a scheduled time for it to end and the two of us to part. Based upon your behavior in London, I assume you have no real desire for a courtship any more than I, as I fully intend to remain unmarried for as long as I am allowed. Therefore, we can satisfy the demands of our families while knowing that we will both be free of any commitment come January sixth.”

A true courtship without the expectation of a betrothal? The very idea was intriguing. If she were as truthful as she claimed, and Emory believed that she was, this would be a perfect solution. “I think that is an excellent idea, Lady Violet.”

Emory smiled to himself. This was the first commitment in memory that he was more than willing to make.

She nodded and faced forward. “I am glad we are in agreement Lord Ferrard.”

“How does one court in Laswell?” If he were in London, it would be drives through Hyde Park, ices at Gunter’s, taking in the theatre, calling on her home, and dancing at balls. None of which were available to him here.

“I’m not certain, Lord Ferrard. Perhaps we could simply stroll through Laswell and in the park, each day at a certain time for a specific length in duration when we will most likely be seen. Such meetings will eventually be reported back to my father, and as your brother lives here, he can assure your father that we did indeed court.”

At her statement, he assumed there were no other entertainments to be offered. Perhaps his brother would have suggestions. Though, if strolls were all they did, Emory doubted any conversation with Lady Violet would be dull. At least, not for the first few days.

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Jane Charles is a prolific writer of over fifty historical and contemporary romance novels. Her love of research lends authenticity to her Regency romances, and her experience directing theatre productions helps her craft beautiful, touching stories that tug at the heartstrings. Jane is an upbeat and positive author dedicated to giving her characters happy-ever-afters and leaving the readers satisfied at the end of an emotional journey. Lifelong Cubs fan, world traveler and mother of three amazing children, Jane lives in Central Illinois with her husband, two dogs and a cat. She is currently writing her next book and planning her dream trip to England. Be sure to join Jane on Facebook @JaneCharlesAuthor for Wine Pairings Wednesdays.

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Church Ladies’ Gossip

By Bluestocking Belles

On May 22, 2021

In Teatime Tattler

“The innkeeper’s son is back.” Mrs. Simpson, the grocer’s wife, whispered to Eunice Norton, the carpenter’s sister, just before services started one Sunday.

“Eli Benson? He was home from Nottingham just last week? I saw him,” Eunice answered.

“Not him, the other one. Wild he was,” the grocer’s goodwife said.

Eunice’s brows reached for the rafters as the congregation rose to sing the opening hymn. Wee Robby is back? She remembered him as a lad. Handsome as sin and she fancied him, for all he was several years too young and Eunice already nodding at spinsterhood.

Reverend Styles droned on longer than usual. Worst luck, that, with Eunice anxious to find out more. When he finally brought it to a close, she scurried out. She had spied Emma Corbin, who used to be Emma Benson, in the benches.

Luckily Emma’s husband liked to visit after church and Eunice caught her watching her flock of children and calling them to stay nearby.

“I heard your brother has come home.” Eunice watched her closely.

“He has indeed. We are so proud of him,” Emma Corbin beamed.

“Is he really—” Eunice barely got the words out.

“A hero of Waterloo? Yes. It was in the dispatches. Don’t you read the papers Eunice Norton?” She smiled as sweet as can be and marched off with that husband of hers. As if just having one made her better than Eunice.

Waterloo? The was two years ago. The whole valley knows about it. Eunice meant to ask something different.

Just then she caught sight of Molly Sims who worked up at The Hall flirting with Aaron Miller, a farmer from over by Willowbrook. She sauntered over all friendly and smiled her most practiced smile. “Emma Corbin tells me her brother Robby is back.”

“I’m wondering, Molly, what they say at the Hall. Is he really the old earl’s son?”

“Don’t say that to Mr. Benson the innkeeper. He won’t hear the man called aught but his own son,” Aaron said.

Eunice snorted. “But the will. Is it true?”

“That the earl named his by-blows in it and gave all his goods to them?” Molly said, her words as tart as lemons. “I can tell you for certain he left Lord David—the new earl—short of cash. We get our wages, but there’s too few of us for the work, and things are tight. The Dowager Countess won’t even come back from London.”

“Well, that’s one blessing, isn’t it Moll?” Aaron laughed. He sobered. “We heard months ago that the old man left Willowbrook to one of his bastards. Agnes Styles says its him, and he’s back.”

Eunice’s meager chest lifted in delight. “See you Sunday,” she called to them. She couldn’t linger. She had to find Mrs. Simpson and tell her what she heard. She just wished the man had the decency to come to church. She’d like to get a good look at him.

About the Book

When the Earl of Clarion leaves a will with bequests for all his children, legitimate and not, listing each and their mothers by name, he complicates the lives of many in the village of Ashmead.

One sleepy village

One scandalous will

Four tormented heirs, one of them believing he was the innkeeper’s son. He is the first of The Ashmead Heirs.

Sir Robert Benson’s life is in London. He fled Ashmead the day he discovered the man he thought was his father had lied to him, and the girl he loved was beyond his reach. Only a nameless plea from his sister—his half-sister—brings him back. He will not allow a ludicrous bequest from the earl who sired him turn him into a mockery of landed gentry. When a feisty little termagant with flashing eyes—and a musket—tries to turn Rob off the land—his land—he’s too amused and intrigued to turn away. But the longer he stays, the tighter the bonds that tie him to Ashmead become, strengthened by the powerful draw of the woman rooted on land he’s determined to sell.

Lucy Whitaker’s life is Willowbrook, its land, its tenants, its prosperity, but she always knew it wasn’t hers, knew the missing heir would come eventually. When a powerful man with military bearing rides up looking as if he wants to come in and count the silver, she turns him away, but her heart sinks. She can’t deny Rob Benson his property; she can only try to make him love the place as she does, for her peoples’ sake. A traitorous corner of her heart wishes Rob would love it for her sake.

His life is London; hers is Ashmead. How can they forge something lasting when they are torn in two directions?

For pre-order now: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09484DC1D/

About the Author

Caroline Warfield, award winning author and proud Bluestocking Belle, has been many things: traveler, librarian, poet, raiser of children, bird watcher, Internet and Web services manager, conference speaker, indexer, tech writer, genealogist—even a nun. She reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows where she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.