Dear Readers,
Alas, while there are daily reports of criminal activity in our great metropolis, such incidents happen in the countryside as well. Here is one most interesting story from a correspondent about criminals in the countryside, and the heroic young lady who foiled them:
The aftermath of this summer’s raid upon R Manor (formerly known as B Manor) continues. It is not just stolen valuables that the Rs need concern themselves.
The neighbors are abuzz with chatter about the daughter, C.R, a young, most beautiful debutante. During this brazen act of robbery, she most bravely prevailed against unimaginable evils.
The ruthless devils kidnapped poor Miss R, keeping her hostage while they searched for a vault totally unconnected with her family. Through no fault of her or her family, you see. The thieves believed the vault was left behind by the previous family who occupied the home, The Bs.
This name, my readers may know. Before their fall from society–which I’m afraid is a story for another column–they once hosted the most lavish parties. Perhaps you remember them? Though, for some, they may be little more than a blur…
Hosted by Mrs. B, a woman hailing from the mysterious Philippines, these gatherings are believed to be the most strange and exotic parties known to society. That was, perhaps, the attraction. I, myself, attended a few in my day and I daresay their memory lives up to their reputation.
These parties are far from the only infamy that haunts the home, though. A hoard of gold has long been rumored to be stashed away in the ancient manor–stolen, it is said, from a forgotten mine.
But the thieves were deceived. They may have greed but wisdom they do not. If they read my column, they might have known that that portion of the countryside is rife with false rumors. The Northern Woods, especially, are believed to be haunted. They say a young and handsome soldier still wanders the woods on his war horse. Considering that lie, who would be foolish enough to believe the others?
I want to remind my readers that the thieves’ grave error should not fall to Miss R. It is despicable that there should be any harsh chatter toward Miss R and her reputation, especially as she, alone, saved the lives of not just her family but many servants. Despite being shackled and locked away in the manor’s library, she fought off the robbers and managed to escape and lead everyone to the nearest estate, owned by the N family. This, the family themselves have confirmed!
Once there, the Ns found her fully clothed–I must mention–and with far more than just her honor intact. To best a band of robbers is a true act of courage that no one, not even the highest ranking war general can deny of her.
Before you consider all that may or may not have happened during her kidnapping, which I have it on good authority did not happen, I hope you’ll consider her acts of bravery. Most ladies in society swoon at the mere mention of highwaymen. Miss R, however, overcame them all.
Any man in the highest circles of society would be lucky to win her hand and add her fine breeding to their family line. If she can save the lives of countless others from the harshest of circumstances, she can no doubt raise children to be as strong and brave as she. Running a household would come at no trouble at all to such a lady.
The Sapphire Heiress (Book 1 in the Silver Order series)
A historical romance with adventure and fantasy:
A pirate who walks amongst the highest circles of society.
A governess desperate to escape servitude.
“Exciting, dramatic, romantic; infused with magic, danger and mystery, The Sapphire Heiress reinvents the historical romance.
Wondering what Historical Romantasy looks like? This is it.”
– New York Times Bestselling Author Amanda Quick
In Victorian England, the Silver Order has kept its supernatural discoveries hidden for centuries. Those who seek its secrets must always pay a price…
Mae Blackthorne, the daughter of an English shipbuilder and a Filipina immigrant, has been taught to ride sidesaddle, embroider pillows, and dance the waltz. So when her brother disappears at sea, she hasn’t a clue what to do when the family’s shipbuilding business falls into bankruptcy.
It isn’t long before Mae is penniless. Or so she believes. Forced to accept a post as governess in the very home she was raised in, Mae takes on the challenge in good spirits. Yet she is restless and yearns for the life of adventure her daredevil father and brother once had. That is, until she meets Ethan Locke, a pirate who offers her an enticing opportunity to recover her secret inheritance.
Unbeknownst to Mae, her family used their shipbuilding business to shroud generations of successful piracy. Locke, who was once partners with her father, has an old score to settle. He claims that her father stole from him an object of great value: a sapphire that can stop its wearer from growing old. As her father’s last surviving heir, Mae is Locke’s only hope of finding this supernatural jewel hidden amidst her family’s secret fortune.
Agreeing to work together and split the fortune amongst themselves, they share an instant spark of attraction. But they’re not alone in their search. The original owners of the sapphire, who operate an elite secret society, are far more powerful than Mae and Locke could have ever imagined. As danger closes in and the supernatural proves real, Mae fears she has much more to lose than just a second chance at a new life.
Pirates of the Caribbean meets Jane Eyre, THE SAPPHIRE HEIRESS is a suspense-filled historical romance perfect for fans of Amanda Quick.
Buy on Amazon for 99c or read for free in Kindle Unlimited.
About the author:
Ella Leon writes historical romantasy full of intrigue and suspense. Her debut historical romantasy series will be released in 2025 with Dragonblade Publishing. During her 9-5 career, she has delved into many different styles of writing: journalism, public relations and marketing. Fiction, however, is where she finds the most freedom to transform the page. Like the Victorians she writes about, she loves all things gothic and supernatural. Unlike the Victorians, she is a feminist who enjoys exploring the precolonial past. When she’s not writing, you can find her spending time with her family or tending to her rose garden. She lives in the Chicago area.
Find all my social media and purchase links for my books here: linktr.ee/ellaleon
Be sure to sign up for my newsletter to get exclusive content: ellaleon.substack.com
Add my books to your TBR on Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/53193883.Ella_Leon
Excerpt
April 1842, Bristol, England
Lightning crashed on the moor, this time nearby. When her horse reared skyward, Mae Blackthorne strained to stay upright.
“Stand firm!” she shouted. Her dapple-gray gelding jerked back before righting himself. “Easy.”
With the threat of rain imminent, their only cover was the Northern Woods ahead, but not even her horse, Thomas, dared to enter. Gaining on a web of lifeless trees, he snorted and pulled back.
“Quiet…” Mae rubbed his black mane. “It’s no more than a bunch of trees.”
The words worked to reassure Mae, too. It took only another glance to freeze the blood in her veins. The trees were so dense that the ground had darkened to black, and inside, all was still and silent. Not a single insect, bird, or other small creature moved in the brush. There was only the whispering of leaves.
She risked a look behind her. The last of the evening’s light was gone. Dark, angry clouds rolled over the horizon. In the far distance, rain fell in thick, hazy streaks and bursts of lightning tore through a slate-colored sky. Blast. She’d thought she had more time.
Mae considered her options. There seemed little else to do but risk an awful cold. Her breaths grew shorter.
he was far not only from the Rosewood estate, but from town, too. She had one option. Cutting through the woods had always been an obvious shortcut, though she’d never dared take it. Just the thought made her tremble. She cursed herself. What did she have to fear of the dark forest? No matter how difficult the terrain, Mae was sure she could cross it.
To hell with the servants’ ghost stories. Yanking the reins, she twisted Thomas toward the trees. Snorting again, he continued to resist. Only after the second pulse of thunder did he ease forward.
Past the threshold of trees, the darkness deepened. Cold moisture coated Mae’s skin. Amidst the rocks and fallen branches, Thomas struggled to maintain his footing.
Mae mouthed a silent prayer. She had assumed she was alone, probably for miles, and therefore helpless when a white light flickered out in the distance.
“Who trespasses here?” A voice broke through the still air.
Mae’s throat tightened before she could respond.
The white haze grew brighter in the mist, approaching rapidly until it stung her eyes.
“Whoever you are, you encroach upon private property,” a man said, his voice unrecognizable. Not a local, nor vagabond, given his accent and well-formed words.
“I—I didn’t know anyone owned this land.” Mae squinted.
The man lowered his light. He eyed her the same way everyone did when they noticed her deep-olive complexion. With practice, she had become skilled at ignoring it.
“I was only trying to escape the storm.”
“I imagine you were. And your companions?” Locke swung out the lantern to pan the forest.
“I have none, sir. I was just out for an evening ride.”
“I see,” he said, though he continued to eye her suspiciously. “Your destination?”
Mae straightened, the personal inquiry giving her pause. “Home. No more than an hour’s ride—”
“An hour’s ride!” he exclaimed. “The storm will be upon us at any moment. You must allow me to escort you to my home. It’s not far.” He lifted his lantern, once again shining the light in her eyes. “What, may I ask, is the name of my guest?”
She swallowed. The last thing she wanted was to establish an acquaintance the man might soon regret. In this case, it was entirely unnecessary. “Sir, please, I wouldn’t like to intrude… The distance will be no trouble at all.” Mae jerked the reins to pass him, but his horse moved too, blocking her path.
Damn stubborn man.
“If you care to divulge your name, I can judge that for myself. I know every prominent family in the county and the distances of their estates.”
Silhouetted in the weak light of the lantern, she struggled to make out his face. Whether friendly or harsh, she could not tell.
“You are the lady of the estate, are you not?”
He clearly could not make her out in this darkness, either.
“No, sir. I didn’t mean to imply…” Mae blushed. “I have no estate. I’m no more than a governess.”
“Ah.”
“Sir, if you please…”
Lightning crashed again.
The man’s head tilted toward the sky. “The storm’s gaining on us. Come. I live just beyond those trees.”
To Mae’s shock, he pointed west. The forest went on for miles in that direction. The distance to another home in that direction would be greater than that to her own destination. Unless… Mae’s breath caught in her chest. He couldn’t possibly live within the Northern Woods. She lifted a cynical brow. Impossible. She would have heard.
Before she could question him, he disappeared. Curious now, Mae clucked her tongue, ordering Thomas forward. Between the trees, she could make out a subtle path, allowing for a safe gallop. Perhaps the home would be new.
Thunder roared again. As heavy sheets of rain crashed down, she quickened her speed. Shearing through the forest, she gained on the man. Skilled as she was, she sped ahead in a spray of mud.
But keeping her fast pace was no easy task. Her horse writhed with each long stride. Battered by the rain, her hands stiffened. Every muscle ached with fatigue.
The fog had thickened too, transforming the trees and rocks into dense, black shadows. Seeing a boulder, Mae yanked the reins just in time to leap over a fallen tree.
When she landed, the shadow of a building appeared seemingly out of the mist. She breathed in deeply with surprise. Not once had she heard of this man. All along, he had been her neighbor.
She pulled Thomas to a skidding stop. In the clearing stood a stone manor, stately yet modest in size. A burst of lightning illuminated the ivy that crawled its walls.
Mae swept round. A set of hooves squished in the mud, effectively catching her off-guard. The stranger was by her side.
“’Tis by good chance I found you.” He laughed, lifting his face toward the sky as if to relish the rain.
“And the name of my rescuer?”
“Forgive me. Ethan Locke.”
For a few moments, Mae forgot the rain. She held his steady gaze, his eyes no more than two glinting lights in the gloom. How on earth had she never heard of this man? The mystery surrounding him made her instantly suspicious.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt! If you’d like to read more, The Sapphire Heiress is 99c on Amazon or in Kindle Unlimited, click here!
Dear Mr. Clemens,
Back in the day, before we even had periodicals, when messages were passed by memory and entrusted to messengers on horseback, our old medieval forbears were facing a problem.
The Incident at Ingleton