Dear Readers,
As the burnished leaves fall and the snows of winter impend, the imagination might long for India, with its exotic heat and mysterious customs. But one must take caution, for all is not as it seems for two travelers who have returned from thence to our fair kingdom.Only last month, Miss F, having spent her youth in India, returned to England to find a suitable husband. Under the auspices of Lady P, the young lady attended one of her hostess’s excellent and entertaining house parties. No sooner had the esteemed hostess introduced Miss F to her other guests than the young lady made the most shocking comments, proving herself incapable of commanding her tongue in public! One may only assume the climate of India had affected her brain–though a certain very eligible gentleman seemed quite willing to excuse her, and to seek her out again. Perhaps her exotic influence has infected his sensibility as well–a warning to all susceptible young men.In quite another quarter, a certain Captain D recently returned from service in India to claim an inheritance from his godmother, only to find his claim challenged by that lady’s son, Lord F! It is highly like that his lordship’s claims were heavily influenced by rumors set forth within a week of Captain D’s arrival that a trove of diamonds had been found in the house. Speculation on the matter has set the whole town on its ear, for if they are real and not the product of fevered imaginations, it remains to be seen whether they were indeed part of the old lady’s legacy, or were brought by the captain from mysterious India. A certain very pretty young lady seems quite eager to discover which is the case–though her sensible cousin seems quite satisfied with the captain himself.It seems that India cannot help but imbue its residents with mystery. Must must only decide how curious one is to delve into them!
A Winter’s Romance, Volume 2: a Regency anthology
Authors: Christina Dudley, Jayne Davis, Judith Hale Everett, GL Robinson, Audrey Harrison, Penny HampsonAnother winter anthology to captivate the heart and charm the spirit. Daunting obstacles and second chances, surprise attraction and mysterious gifts all combine with delightful romance to satisfy your winter longings!
Stories featured:Francis and the Magic Stone, by GL Robinson
Blurb: An inexperienced young lady discovers a strange stone from her Indian nanny has the power to boost her confidence—perhaps a bit too much!Lady Lavinia’s Legacy, by Jayne Davis
Blurb: A former soldier discovers part of his godmother’s legacy is missing, and follows her clues with an unexpected ally. But the clues concern more than his fortune.Preorder your copy for the November 5th release: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HJ3TLMC8
About the Authors:Glynis Louise Robinson is from Portsmouth in southern England, and writes romances in memory of her dear sister Francine, who died unexpectedly in 2018. GL likes gardening (except for weeding!), reading in bed, having tea parties with her grandchildren and boiled eggs for breakfast at the weekends! Visit her website at https://romancenovelsbyglrobinson.com, where you can sign up to her email list and find out how to receive a free copy of The Earl and the Mud-Covered Maiden.
Jayne Davis was hooked on Georgette Heyer and Jane Austen from her teens, and always wanted to be a writer. Now she has 14 romancespublished, all set in the Regency or Georgian Eras. Find her on Facebook and Pinterest, or go to her website at https://www.jaynedavisromance.co.uk where you can read a free short story, sign up to her mailing list, and stay up to date on her new releases.
Author: Alina K. Field Page 1 of 19
Dear Readers,
Your correspondent has been assured that there is absolutely nothing remarkable about the amount of time Lady Eliza Thornhaven has lately spent in the company of Mr. Thomas Grey, estate manager at Hartleigh Hall.
Nothing whatsoever.
Mr. Grey manages the estate.
Lady Eliza has considerable experience managing one herself.
They therefore have any number of perfectly sensible reasons to walk the grounds together, consult over drainage, discuss tenants, examine accounts, and occasionally disappear down a country lane where one’s boots may suffer considerably.
We are relieved to have settled the matter.
Society, unfortunately, has not.
Those familiar with Lady Eliza will know that she has never required a gentleman to explain an estate ledger to her. Since the death of her husband, the late Marquess of Thornhaven, she has managed Thornhaven with a competence that has disappointed several gentlemen who might otherwise have enjoyed advising her.
Mr. Grey, for his part, appears entirely untroubled by this.
A curious quality in a man.
He listens when Lady Eliza speaks.
He answers when she asks a question.
And, most alarming of all, he appears to believe that when she has made a decision, the matter may actually be decided.
One hardly knows what society is coming to.
Of course, those eager to make something of the friendship will be disappointed to learn that Lady Eliza and Mr. Grey have known one another for years. Mr. Grey grew up at Hartleigh alongside her late husband and Nathaniel Draycott, now acting Duke of Hartleigh.
They were young together.
They are not young now.
Time has an inconvenient habit of altering one’s perspective.
So, apparently, do rolled sleeves.
Your correspondent would never suggest that Lady Eliza has taken particular notice of Mr. Grey while he attends to the more physical requirements of estate management.
We report only that drainage near the lower pasture has recently received an extraordinary amount of attention.
Readers may draw their own conclusions.
There are, however, more serious matters occupying Hartleigh Hall.
The question of the Hartleigh inheritance, which has already provided this column with more entertainment than any respectable family ought to supply, remains unsettled. New claims have emerged. Old stories have acquired inconvenient details. A signet has attracted considerable interest, and persons previously unknown to society have found themselves suddenly very much discussed by it.
One would think a disputed inheritance sufficient trouble for a single household.
Hartleigh, as longtime readers will know, has never been a house inclined toward sufficiency.
Yet amid questions of bloodlines, legitimacy, family records, and who may, or may not, possess a rightful claim to the Hartleigh name, another question has begun circulating through certain drawing rooms.
What, precisely, is Lady Eliza Thornhaven doing with an estate manager?
We confess ourselves puzzled by the question.
Walking with him, apparently.
Talking with him.
Working beside him.
Trusting his judgment.
Occasionally disagreeing with him.
And, if reports are accurate, defending him when others mistake the absence of a title for the absence of worth.
Perhaps society’s confusion arises because it understands titles rather better than it understands people.
A marchioness is expected to know where she stands.
An estate manager is expected to do the same.
It becomes terribly inconvenient when two people from different worlds meet and discover that neither considers the other beneath consideration.
Still, your correspondent advises caution.
There is, after all, no evidence of scandal.
No secret assignation has been reported.
No compromising embrace has been witnessed.
No kiss has been observed.
Yet.
We include that final word only in the interest of grammatical completeness.
Until then, dear readers, should you find yourself near Hartleigh Hall, we recommend keeping your observations discreet, your boots out of the mud, and your attention firmly upon the estate’s continuing inheritance difficulties.
Under no circumstances should you watch Lady Eliza Thornhaven and Mr. Thomas Grey.
Everyone else is already doing so.
— The Teatime Tattler
❧ ❦ ❧
The Hartleigh Inheritance
When a priceless jewel vanishes during the grand Masked Ball at Ravenshade, it triggers a series of events that unearth scandal, betrayal, and secrets long buried within the walls of Hartleigh Hall. Known for its ghost stories and fractured legacy, the estate becomes the backdrop for six emotionally charged romances. Each couple must navigate the estate’s tangled history to find justice, healing, and lasting love. Gothic in atmosphere and deeply romantic, The Hartleigh Inheritance explores love in the face of legacy, loss, and the power of reclaiming one’s name.
~~~~~
The newspaper remained open beside Eleanor’s teacup.
Eliza stood at the window, reading the same paragraph for the second time.
“This is absurd.”
“Entirely,” Eleanor agreed.
Eliza turned. Her mother-in-law appeared deeply interested in buttering a piece of toast.
“I have walked the estate with Thomas hundreds of times.”
“I am certain you have.”
“We discuss estate business.”
“Of course.”
“And the drainage genuinely required attention.”
At that, Eleanor looked up.
Eliza narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You are smiling.”
“I am eating toast.”
“You can do both.”
“One of the privileges of age.”
Eliza folded the newspaper with rather more precision than necessary. “And that business about his sleeves is ridiculous.”
Eleanor’s attention returned to her toast.
A moment passed.
Then another.
“Eliza?”
“Yes?”
“Were they?”
Eliza stared at her.
Eleanor took a perfectly composed sip of tea.
“Were what?”
“The sleeves.”
There was a dangerous silence.
From somewhere near the sideboard came a sound suspiciously like a cough.
Eliza turned.
“Mr. Greaves.”
The butler’s expression was immaculate. “Your Ladyship?”
“Have you been standing there this entire time?”
“I could not say, my lady.”
“You could not say.”
“No, my lady.”
Eliza looked from Greaves to Eleanor.
Eleanor lifted her teacup.
“I believe,” the Dowager Duchess said, “the Tattler has done rather well with this one.”
Mr. Greaves inclined his head. “Remarkably perceptive, Your Grace.”
Eliza closed her eyes.
Hartleigh Hall, regrettably, offered nowhere to hide from either of them.
❧══════════ ❦ ══════════❧
Books 1 and 2 of The Hartleigh Inheritance are available at Amazon
Dear Readers,
Rosachron Manor is once again the cynosure of all eyes!
The Winterose family’s disregard for Polite Society is already well‑known — refusal to observe mourning, casual time‑hopping through centuries, and the shocking elopement of the youngest daughter.
But now the situation has grown even more alarming.
Miss Katherine (called Kitty) has taken to wandering the countryside alone at dawn, returning flushed and feverish, yet insisting these rambles are “good for her health.” A curious claim, given the hour.
And now, dear readers, she has gone too far.
On one such sunrise excursion, Miss Kitty returned with a man — a completely unknown, oddly dressed gentleman who claims to be a physician. He was brought straight into the household like a stray puppy and shows no sign of leaving Rosachron Manor.
Has Miss Kitty Winterose met her match? Or is she destined to follow the scandalous path of young Miss Lydia?
Rest assured: the Tattler will report all!
A Rose at Dawn – Book Three of Roses of Longbourn
A time‑twisted Regency tale of healing, hope, and the courage to begin again.
Kitty Winterose has lived in the shadows for far too long — those cast by her portrayal as spineless Kitty Bennet, her sisters’ bolder personalities, and the chronic cough she fears may portend a far more deadly inheritance.
Kitty vows that her sojourn in the spa town of Buxton will be her new dawn — time and space to think, to grow, and to discover who she might be apart from her family and childhood home at Rosachron Manor, where time behaves so strangely.
Returning home, Kitty carries her new steadiness with her, never dreaming how Rosachron’s temporal anomalies are about to change her world.
With the arrival of Dr. Jamison Hartwell, a physician from the twenty‑first century — unexpected, impossible, and thoroughly unsettling — Kitty begins to feel seen in ways she never has before. Jamison’s modern insight, quiet humor, and attentive kindness challenge everything she believed about her illness, her future, and her worth.
As the Manor’s portal puzzle continues its slow unfolding and echoes of other travelers through time reverberate, Kitty finds herself standing at the edge of a future she never imagined — one shaped not by fear, but by hope, courage, and the possibility of love.
A Rose at Dawn invites you to believe in second chances, soft miracles, and love that arrives exactly when it should.
Purchase A Rose at Dawn in paperback or ebook format on Amazon or read in Kindle Unlimited: https://a.co/d/01NChin8
The Roses of Longbourn series:
A Rose Out of Time – Book 1
A Rose in Winter – Book 2
Mrs. Christie and the Misplaced Rose (A Short Story)
A Golden-Hearted Rose (A Short Story)
A Rake Redeemed, or The Gretna Rose (A Novella)
Truths and Roses (A Short Story)
Coming Soon:
A Rose After Rain – Book 4
Cornwall Chronicles:
Nevermore Castle
About the Author
KELLY BOGGS writes seasoned not spiced atmospheric fiction that blends historical charm, a touch of mystery, and warm, character driven storytelling. Whether her books wander through Cornwall’s windswept cliffs or the quiet corners of the Regency, she builds worlds where emotion, place, and personality intertwine. Her stories offer immersive escapes threaded with wit, whimsy, and a distinctly human heart.
Links:
Website: kellyboggsauthor.com
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/kellyboggs
Goodreads: Kelly Boggs (Author of A Rose Out of Time) | Goodreads
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kellyboggsauthor
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/kellyboggsauthor
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/KellyBoggsAuthor
Excerpts from A Rose at Dawn
Mistenmere wore an entirely different aspect in the morning, just as Jamison had hoped. The mist drifted in slow, shifting veils across the water, lending the whole scene an otherworldly cast and making the stone arch seem larger, darker, and colder.
He walked down to the water’s edge again, letting his hand rest on the back of the ancient bench. In the misty solitude, he fancied he could almost hear the echoes of other lives lived in this strange place. The thought brought back the musical laughter of the girl from his dream, and a pang went through him—loneliness, and a wistful longing for something he had never known.
Love, he supposed, shaking his head. He’d never had time to go looking for it, and he wasn’t sure when he ever would. Yet for all that he had come here craving solitude, he found himself wishing someone special were beside him to share the moment.
***
Kitty put her musings aside the moment the door opened, her eyes drawn instantly to the young doctor—so much for all her hard-won self-discipline. She had spent the hours since yesterday reminding herself that he was not for her. Now he looked well, she thought, ruthlessly suppressing the word handsome.
She was smiling to herself when their eyes met. All at once, she felt breathless. Kitty knew she was young and lacked experience of the world, but she did not think she was mistaken in what she read in Jamison’s gaze. It was the exact reflection of her own unwilling yearning. He felt it, too.
Jamison was dimly aware that Remington was attempting to introduce him properly, and that he was behaving very badly. But once he had allowed his eyes to search for Kitty—and their gazes had locked— his mind could not convince his heart to look away. She was beautiful, she was kind—she was everything he had ever hoped to find. And she belonged to a century he had no desire to inhabit.
The introductions then proceeded in form, and Kitty and Jamison each dared to imagine that their moment of silent connection had gone unremarked. But in truth, every person in that room had not only noticed, but developed an opinion on what had passed between the two.
Mary, for one, living in a perpetual glow of love and wedding plans, decided at once that Something Must Be Done. She had seen Kitty’s increasing loneliness and sincerely wished for her happiness. The more she saw and heard of the doctor, the more convinced she became that he was the ideal match for her sister.
Dear Readers:
Whispers from Cumberland inform the Tattler that the long-delayed Christmas wedding between the Duke of Kendal and industrialist’s daughter Miss Penelope Montgomery has been delayed once more by the bride’s disappearance into a snowstorm. Captain Lord Hugo Dalston, the bridegroom’s brother, went in hot pursuit of the runaway, but neither has returned to Gaitskill Castle. Have they perished, or is a more scandalous possibility in the offing?
Snowed In with the Runaway Bride
by Alexa Santi
Betrothed to the Duke of Kendal since they were children and still recovering from a near-fatal illness, Miss Penelope Montgomery is resigned to the marriage … until she discovers her twin sister Pippa has been in love with Kendal for years. The only way to prevent disaster is for Penny to flee her Christmas wedding ahead of an incoming snowstorm that strands her at a tiny inn with her jilted groom’s irritatingly attractive brother Hugo.
Royal Navy Captain Lord Hugo Dalston wanted to escape the spectacle of the woman he loves marrying his older brother, but Penny’s impulsive actions force them to share the smallest room he’s ever seen in an isolated village where everyone believes them to be husband and wife. Even worse, the masquerade is dangerously seductive, showing Hugo what his life with Penny can be if he has the courage to risk his family, his livelihood, and even Penny’s health should her illness return.
Part of the Regency Runaway Brides Series
Buy Link:
https://Books2Read.com/SnowedInRunawayBride
Excerpt:
The closer her family’s traveling coach came to her wedding, the more Penelope Montgomery wished she could turn tail and run.
Her mother’s continuous burbles about the romance of Christmas weddings, as though this had not all been arranged when Penny was a mere child, made her want to scream.
A scream would echo oddly in the coach, likely muffled by the thick curtains that covered the windows and warm blankets that covered Penny, her mother, and Penny’s identical twin sister, Pippa.
Penny looked over at her sister, who had finally awakened after sleeping like the dead all the way from their last change of horses. Pippa lifted the curtain to look out the carriage window with a frown. Mother followed Penny’s gaze.
“Stop that, Pippa. You’re letting in a draft. Your sister will freeze.”
“Sorry, Mother,” Pippa said, without dropping the curtain. “I do believe it will snow.”
“It would be lovely to have snow for Christmas!” Mother gushed. Then she frowned. “But not until all of the guests have arrived. It would be dreadful to have everyone trapped on the road. Your father is still on his way from whatever that business was that sent him to Manchester.”
“If Papa is late, we could postpone the wedding,” Penny said, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.
Mother glared at her. “Bridal jitters are all very well, my dear, but it’s a bit late now. You shall be married in three days’ time.” She sighed. “A Christmas Eve wedding. So romantic.”
The rumble of the carriage wheels and clatter of the horses’ hooves picked up the rhythm of Mother’s words.
Three days’ time… three days’ time…
Penny had only three more days to escape her fate.
As the coach rounded the drive, she lifted the curtain on her own side of the carriage despite Mother’s fussing about the cold. That same cold seeped into Penny’s already aching bones as she regarded the gray stone walls that rose starkly against the winter-brown countryside.
In three days’ time, this would be her home. Away from her family. Away from her sister. Alone with a man who still felt like a virtual stranger even though they had known each other since they were children.
Barring one half-hearted attempt the previous year, he had never even so much as kissed her.
Not that she particularly wanted him to.
The carriage drew to a halt and the Duke of Kendal emerged from the front door, closely followed by a bevy of footmen. Carefully, Penny unfolded her limbs from the carriage seat. The painful swelling of her joints that had plagued her all through her recovery from the fever that had nearly killed her was becoming less frequent, but the cold, damp weather had made it flare up again. Combined with the rigors of travel, her aching joints wanted nothing more than a warm bed and perhaps some bitter but soothing willow bark tea.
But that could not be allowed, of course. She was the future Duchess of Kendal. The rituals must be adhered to. She must greet the servants, and then attend the reception with the whole family, and then dress for dinner, and then, and then, and then…
Penny shook out her skirts and pasted a smile on her face as the carriage door opened and a footman lowered the steps. Her gloved hand crept into the pocket of her pelisse to make certain the tiny wooden swallow was still there. Her good luck charm.
Before Penny could get to her feet, Mother all but leaped for the open door, startling the waiting footman, and made a precipitous descent, chattering all the way down. Taking a deep breath, Penny put weight on her sore joints and stood, her head stooped to avoid catching her traveling bonnet on the roof of the coach.
As she descended from the carriage, Penny looked beyond Kendal to see a familiar figure standing just inside the door, and her heart made a little leap even as her step faltered.
Hugo had come after all.
It had been uncertain whether Kendal’s younger brother would be able to get away from London, or so Kendal had written her. With Napoleon safely stashed away on St. Helena, Hugo had won his first official command as a post-captain after competing with most of the other captains of His Majesty’s Royal Navy. The Navy’s reduction in forces following the Allied victory at Waterloo had left many captains scrambling to find berths, which made Hugo’s accomplishment even more impressive.
Once he had left to be a midshipman, Penny had only seen Hugo once a year, or every few years, depending on his assignment, always with a new tale of derring-do at sea for his younger cousins… and for Penny to eavesdrop on, if she happened to be nearby.
She had always tried to be nearby.
But now the war was over, and he was here.
Penny busied herself with straightening her skirts once her feet were firmly on the ground, her heart pounding. The thought of marrying Kendal was already dreadful, but to have to do it with Hugo watching would be unbearable. He was always… judging her and her frivolous ways. Lurking in corners, frowning at her. Her skin prickled with heat every time she caught him looking at her with those disapproving brown eyes. He had only ever made one gesture that made her wonder if she was wrong about him.
Her hand strayed to where the tiny hand-carved swallow rested in her pocket before she tossed her head and straightened her bonnet. She didn’t care what Captain Lord Hugo Dalston thought of her. Not in the slightest.
Instead, she smiled at Kendal.
About the Author:
Alexa Santi loves storytelling of all kinds, so it’s no wonder it took some time for her to settle on writing romance novels after several career detours, including an MFA in Screenwriting from Loyola Marymount University. She lives near Los Angeles with her handsome archivist husband and their pesky cats, who insist she take frequent breaks from her writing to pay attention to them. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram, or on her website at https://www.alexasanti.com
Want to hear what I’m doing next? Sign up for my newsletter either on my website or at https://BookHip.com/KSFZDMH
Social Media Links:
Facebook Author Page
https://www.facebook.com/alexasantiauthor
Instagram Page
https://www.instagram.com/alexasantiauthor/
Goodreads
https://www.goodreads.com/alexa_santi
BookBub
https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alexa-santi
Amazon Author Page
https://www.amazon.com/Alexa-Santi/e/B0978GS9VB/
Website
Newsletter
https://www.subscribepage.com/alexasanti
Linktree
https://www.linktr.ee/alexasantiauthor
Facebook Profile Page
https://www.facebook.com/alexa.santi.311
Tumblr Page
https://alexa-santi-author.tumblr.com/
Dear Readers,
What an interesting harvest season the residents of Cheshire are having. This report comes from a resident of a small village which shall be left unnamed.
My Dear Mr. Clemens,
It has been some time since my last letter, but so it has been with the goings on in Belgium that one has no chance but to read whatever report one can find and otherwise worry.
Now we have come through that, and our people of R have both mourned the loss of some brave young men and celebrated the return of many as well as this year’s good harvest.
And what goings-on there have been before, during, and after our harvest fete!
In particular, we have seen the return to the village of a young Frenchwoman (one might call her an adventuress!) and the lady who employed her as a companion. They were both offered shelter by a friend of the younger woman, one of our most genteel widowed ladies. Such a fuss, with the Frenchwoman here in R openly seeking a wealthy husband, her employer bedazzling one of our elderly local worthies, and the widowed lady praying that her posthumous child (yes, she was in the family way at the time of her husband’s death) is a boy—else she and her daughters will be homeless!
There is more. A handsome young officer has returned from the army with a Frenchman in tow meant to marry the fortune-hunting young Frenchwoman, she who wants nothing to do with anything French. It is whispered that she is the heiress of a French vintner!
What is the truth? I will write again when I know more.
Under the Champagne Moon
Orphaned by the French Revolution and rescued by a British family, Fleur Hardouin didn’t—or wouldn’t—speak, until the jolly young Gareth Ardleigh crossed her path one summer and saved her from bullies. Fifteen years later, Fleur and the beloved lady she serves return to Cheshire. Determined to rescue them both through an advantageous marriage, Fleur tries to brush off the attention she receives from Gareth, who’s home from the wars and as handsome as ever. Her heart longs for him, but her head knows he can’t provide the security she needs.
Gareth’s excuse for visiting Cheshire is to deliver the personal effects of his best friend who perished at Quatre Bras. But his real purpose is finding the little French girl he met years ago, for marriage—not to him, but to the Frenchman who helped save his life. Astonished to find that Fleur has grown into a beautiful—and still intriguing—young woman, it soon becomes clear, he must choose between honoring a promise or trying to win the hand of the woman he loves.
Originally published in Under the Harvest Moon, a Bluestocking Belles with Friends Collection
Buy Links: https://books2read.com/underthechampagnemoon
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., but after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California. Now widowed, and with the kids grown, she recently transplanted from Orange County to a desert community. The nest is empty except for a sweet, feisty chihuahua and grandkids who frequently need looking after and visit often
Social Media Links:
Website: https://alinakfield.com/
Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlinaKField
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alina-k-field
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/alinakf/
Newsletter signup: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6q6e3