The Teatime Tattler prides itself on bringing you the latest news. This fascinating conversation about an old scandal resurfacing was overheard by our intrepid reporter.
“It was all her fault.” With a superior smile, Lady Samantha Ridgewater lifted a spoonful of raspberry sorbet and popped it into her mouth.
“No, really?” queried her companion, this season’s toast, Miss Cecile Ambrose. “Are you sure?” The fair Miss Ambrose, twirled her spoon in the vanilla ice she’d ordered.
“As certain as I am that I look better in strong colors, like this sorbet, than in the pastels we young ladies are cursed to wear.”
“That much is
certainly true. Pastels do your complexion no favors. You should have your maid
trim all your outfits in ribbons of dark shades so you still have a strong
color near your face.”
“What a
splendid idea. I shall give that a try the moment we get home.”
“Now, please
tell me how it is that Lady Mary Percival Cummins is at fault for the death of
her parents.”
“I shouldn’t
gossip.”
“No one will
know, and I did tell you how to solve your wardrobe problem.”
“You are a
true friend, Cecile. It really is a cautionary tale from which we can all learn
a lesson.”
“Then it
isn’t gossip at all. You’re passing on wisdom to a friend.”
“It happened
when Lady Mary had her come out three years ago.”
“I was still
in the schoolroom, but my sister Mavis was out and she told me everything. I
don’t recall any mention of Lady Mary or a scandal.”
“That’s
because Lady Mary, who was bold as brass, never got to London. She disgraced
herself and her family before leaving that backwater where she grew up.”
“She must have done something terrible.”
Lady Samantha leaned forward, “She was found kissing a stable lad shortly after her parents announced her engagement to a local gentleman.”
“Who was the gentleman, and how did this cause her parents deaths?”
“I don’t recall who the man was.” Lady Samantha dismissed him with the wave of a hand. “But her father shot himself the next day.”
“Why in the world would he do that? The shame was his daughter’s.”
“It seems that Lady Mary’s wedding would save the family fortunes which her papa had lost through bad investments. Her mother went into a decline and died a few months later.”
“I’m sorry
for the death of Lord and Lady Cummins, but their daughter got everything she
deserved. Imagine risking your entire family’s well being for a kiss from some
smelly stable lad.”
“That isn’t
the worst of it.”
“What more
could she have done?”
“When her
father passed, his cousin inherited. The new Lord Cummins refused to have such
a brazen wench in his home. He cut her hair and threatened to have her whipped
at the carts tail if she did not leave. Lady Mary was put out to the road like
so much rubbish with only the clothes on her back and not a pence to her name.”
“This was after
her parents passed?”
“No, her
mother was ill, but still living. I understand the new Lord Cummins allowed the
woman to remain at the dower house, but because of her daughter’s reputation he
refused to see the mother or speak to her.”
“What happened to Lady Mary?”
“No one
knows. At the time speculation had it that she ran off to the former colonies
with the stable lad. Other rumors said she’d gone to Scotland and become a
whore. I only know that she’s never shown her face in London.”
“She wouldn’t dare.”
One would not thinks so, but a friend of a friend says he saw her at the kitchen door of Haverford House.
Dear Readers,
The above conversation will introduce you to the heroine of my next novella with the Bluestocking Belles. As yet, I have no title for the story, and I am just beginning to discover exactly who Lady Mary Percival Cummins is. By next month, I should know much more about her and the eventual love of her life, Major Lord Arthur Trevor PenRhydderch. Until then, keep reading.
I urge you to print a severe warning to all. With this horrible weather that we have been having it is bad enough that many foolish folk wander out onto the frozen Thames in search of entertainment. All must be aware that several have fallen through the ice to the detriment of their health and for some the loss of their lives. However, even more dangerous than those who traverse the ice are the young bucks who undertake to race their curricles upon the frozen waters.
As evidence of the hazards I provide you this drawing of a typical carriage accident (this one on a road). One can easily imagine the peril of such an encounter on the slippery and fragile surface of the Thames Ice.
Please, sir, urge your readers not to venture onto that treacherous surface for fools abound and those in carriages will cause much damage and sorrow.
Several weeks back you presented your readers with an
interview of a member of the infamous MacFearann clan. I read the interview
with interest because the man you featured, Caibre MacFearann, spent the winter
here. His presence was a mixed blessing, for he managed to bring our Laird,
Baron Steafan MacKai, back home. He also managed, and I cannot begin to imagine
how, to return the Brother Blade to Clan MacKai. Your readers may not know that
the Brother Blade is a legendary sword that represents the close relationship
between Clan MacKai and the Earls of Strathnaver. But that’s where the
blessings ended.
This horrible man, for everyone knows MacFearann’s are kin to the devil, took shelter under our roof, ate from the MacKai clan’s table, and pretended to have our clan’s best interests at heart, and all the while he was seducing Baron Steafan’s sister, Miss Aisla MacKai. Why our own Mrs. Grogan caught him kissing Miss MacKai. Miss Aisla protested of course that nothing untoward had occurred, but we all know that kisses are only the beginning. And with a MacFearann involved, a kiss is more than enough to ruin our beloved Aisla.
What will become of her, I cannot say. Her brother may be home, but he is very ill and cannot look out for his sister as he should. Someone must step up and compel the nefarious MacFearann to do the right thing. It is my hope that exposing his devious seductions will result in MacFearann offering for her hand so that Miss Aisla’s good name is restored. Public opinion is a strong force, and is desperately needed in this case. I beg you and your readers to demand Caibre MacFearann take the appropriate action and make an honest woman of Aisla MacKai,
Allow me to introduce you to Caibre
MacFearann, hero of Forever Hold My Heart, an historical romance novella by Rue
Allyn.
Welcome to The Teatime Tattler Mr. MacFearann. I’m Samuel Clemens, editor and owner of this periodical.
Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Clemens.
Please call me Ciabre.
Tattler: As you
wish. The Tattler is well acquainted
with Miss Allyn’s work and interviewing her heroes is a constant delight. Please,
if you will, confirm the following information about your story.
Tattler: The title is Forever Hold My Heart by Rue Allyn, an historical romance novella that one would politely call steamy; that is not to be read by children under the age of seventeen?
Caibre: “Och, I
suppose so, Mr. Clemens. T’ tell the truth, I concern myself no so much with
the story as I do with makin’ sure t’ author gets m’ character right, and that
she doesna malign Miss Aisla MacKai in any way,
Tattler: Well
that’s forthright. I gather you and Miss MacKai are lovers?
Caibre: (He’s
grinning.) I’d no say anything to damage Aisla’s reputation. Let’s say that I
intend to propose to the lady and pray she’ll accept me.
Tattler: I wish
you the best of luck Mr. MacFearann, er Caibre, as I’m sure our readership does
too.
Tattler: Are you
aware of the expression “kicked the bucket?”
Caibre: Oh,
aye. That and a number of other, ah, quaint expressions are used in the Wyoming
Territory where I make my home now.
Tattler: Then it
would make sense to you to say that a list of things a person wants to
accomplish, places to go, situations to experience, and so on have become known
as a “Bucket List.”
Caibre: Aye,
that does make sense.
Tattler: I’ll be
asking you some questions about what you might include in your bucket list. But
let’s get some basics out of the way first.
Caibre: Verra
well.
Tattler: What is
your age?
Caibre: Twenty seven or there abouts.
Tattler: You are
definitely male?
Caibre: Are ye
blind or daft? D’ye wish me to prove it to ye?
Tattler: No, no.
Forgive me, please. Let’s just pretend I didn’t ask that.
Caibre: Suits
me.
Tattler: Thank you. Where were you born?
Caibre:
MacFearann Castle on the northeast tip of Scotland’s coast.
Tattler: What
would you say is your profession?
Caibre: I’m a ranch
owner. I raise beef cattle and horses for sale to a number of different
markets.
Tattler: You’re
the son of a nobleman. Does it embarrass you that you work for a living?
Caibre: Does it
embarrass you?
Tattler: No
Caibre, but I’m not of the nobility.
Caibre: I never
had patience with that nonsense. Luckily, I’m a second son, and I dinna have t’
concern m’sel wi’ it. Proud I am that I’ve made a good life for m’sel in a hard
country.
Tattler: Please
describe yourself for our readers.
Caibre: I’ve
dark hair, some might call it black. My eyes are blue. I’ve a muscular build
and am considered tall.
Tatter: Tell us a little about yourself, please.
Caibre: Because my spendthrift da gave me naught with which to set m’sel up in life, I left the woman I love and Scotland for the western territories. As I said, I’ve no patience with the idea that a man should not earn his way simply because of his birth. I never thought to return to Scotland, but my older brother asked my help with our father’s funeral.
Tattler: Who is
that woman you left behind, and have you seen her since your return to Scotland?
Caibre: Her name
is Aisla MacKai. And no I havena yet seen her. So, ye must promise me ye’ll no
publish this interview until after ye hear from me that all is well between
Aisla and I or that all is finished.
Tattler: I so
promise. Moving on, if you haven’t made a bucket list before, perhaps now would
be a good time. Who knows? It might inspire another story from Miss Allyn.
While you’re thinking about that list. Please tell us about some of your other
favorite things, starting with your favorite toy as a child.
Caibre: Oh tha’s
an easy one. My brother Eric and I were fascinated by all the old suits of
armor and weapons scattered about MacFearann Castle. Whenever we could, we’d
don as much of the armor as we were able and play at attacking each other with
any of the weapons we could lift. We were in our teens before we were capable
of using most of the weapons, and we weren’t very expert, so we dinna do much
damage to each other. The castle walls, however, bear a number of chinks and
gouges that resulted from our play.
Tattler: That is
truly amazing and dangerous. Didn’t your father or your tutor stop you?
Caibre: Our da
was never home, and we dinna have a tutor.
Tattler: Tell us
about your best friend.
Caibre: That’d
be Aisla MacKai.
Tattler: Isn’t she the woman you said you loved but never expected to see again?
Caibre: Aye.
She’s also the one I told you I plan to ask to marry me. I’ll be seeing her
again, whether she accepts my proposal or no. My da stole something from her
family, and I’m honor bound to return it.
Tattler: So, if
you’ve been apart these many years, what makes her your best friend?
Caibre: Simple. I’ve never had a better. I’ve many friends and acquaintances in Wyoming, but none of them share the kinds of memories and experiences I share with Aisla. We learned to ride together. We explored the highlands together. Until we got too old for it, we spent long days and nights out under the highland skies sharing stories and dreams. We always thought we’d marry, but we dinna count on my da’s feckless ways leaving me as penniless as she was. She deserved so much more than I could offer her as a younger man. I did the only thing that was right. I left her behind. I honestly thought she’d forget me. Seems I may have been wrong.
Tattler: What are
two places you would like to visit before you die, and why?
Caibre: Anywhere
Aisla is. I love Wyoming. Like the highlands it’s both harsh and beautiful. However,
I’ve already been to both. For some place I’d never been, I think I’d like to
visit Austria and Australia. I hear that they too are places of difficult
beauty.
Tattler: Where
is a place you would never like to return, and why?
Caibre:
MacFearann Castle.
Tattler: But
that’s your home?
Caibre: Nay any longer. ‘Tis my brother’s home, and I wish him joy of it. Whether I want to return to MacFearann Castle or not, I’m sure I will. I’ll no allow a little thing like stones and mortar to stop me seeing my brother.
Tattler: Who is
someone you would like to meet, and why?
Caibre: I wish
I had been in a time and place when I could have met Mr. Abraham Lincoln. From
all I’ve heard he seemed a wise and canny man. A conversation with him could
have yielded much to think on and much to learn.
Tattler: Who is
someone you would like to avoid, and why?
Caibre: ‘Twould
be rude of me to say.
Tattler: So
there is someone?
Caibre: Aye, but sharing that person’s name would be wrong. I’ll no do it.
Tattler: I can
accept discretion and courtesy. Last question. If you could time travel to any
date, what would it be, and what would you do there?
Caibre: I’d go
back in time to when the second Lord MacFearann committed a crime so heinous
that it has tarnished the MacFearann name to this day.
Tattler: Heavens
a centuries old scandal. Do tell us the details please. What did he do?
Caibre: That ancestor
disagreed with a bishop over the boundary between his lands and where the
Bishop wished to build a new abbey. Deeds and other documents show that my
ancestor was in the right. But the Bishop claimed that the needs of the church
were more important than the papers of men, and he started construction of his
abbey on MacFearann lands.
Tattler:
Opposing a land-grabber, be he prelate or king, seems the right thing to me and
no crime.
Caibre: Had the
second Lord MacFearann left it at that and let the courts decide, all would
have been well and our name would no equal that of the blackest criminals. But
he was no accustomed to waiting on the pleasure of anyone regarding what was
his. He invited the bishop and his brethren to dinner. He and the bishop went
apart, supposedly to resolve their dispute. They were gone a very long while. When
my ancestor returned, he was alone. He told the brothers the bishop was
indisposed and begged that they should partake of the meal. Their leader would
join them anon.
Tattler: And did
he?
Caibre: (His
expression is grim.) Aye, in a manner of speaking. The brothers praised the
skills of the MacFearann cook and asked why my ancestor did not partake. He
explained that the meat was not to his taste but they should eat their fill.
They cleaned their plates twice over—for the clergy were always hungry. When
they thanked Lord MacFearann for the delectable dish, he told them they should
thank the lord for allowing the Bishop to make their meal for them.
Tattler: You don’t
mean . . .?
Caibre: Aye, I
do mean. That while the second Lord MacFearann and the bishop were alone, my
ancestor killed the man then had him roasted over a spit in the kitchens,
carved and sauced and served to his holy brothers. Interestingly, every one of
those holy men died within the year.
Tattler: I
confess dear readers at this point I found myself unable to continue the
interview. Mr. MacFearann was kind enough to leave me with a short summary of
his story and some information about the author, which you will find below.
Blurb: The last thing
Caibre MacFearann wants is to return to Scotland let alone be forced to stay
there. But the chance to rekindle the lost love of his youth is too tempting to
resist.
Losing Caibre MacFearann’s love once hurt so
much that Aisla MacKai wants nothing to do with him when a blizzard brings the
man to her doorstep. Kindness and human charity require that she give him
shelter, no matter that her poor heart had never mended.
Where to buy Forever Hold My Heart: Forever Hold My Heart cannot be purchased. It’s release date is May 20, 2019. On that date the novella will be free to all of Miss Allyn’s newsletter subscribers and the members of the RAVON FB Community. The link for newsletter subscription is: https://www.rueallyn.com/ravonsubscribefhmh/.
About Rue Allyn: Hi, I’m
Rue Allyn, I write heart melting romance novels. Books about characters and
adventures in which love triumphs at the darkest moment. The kind of hopeful,
steal-your-breath romance that melts a reader’s heart. The type of book I like
to read. Hope you will too
It has come to my
attention that your readership extends to nearly all of London, from the most
noble and high to those who must have your articles read to them. While I am
certain this gratifies you greatly, I would never sink to the moral quagmire of
writing to what is essentially a gossip rag, were I not in most desperate case.
For the past two years, I
have searched diligently for the heirs to the estate of a very wealthy
gentleman, a Mr. J. B., who has been my client, and whose estate I now
represent. It is of the utmost urgency that anyone believing he or she might
hold claim to the honorable J. B.’s estate come forward, via letter to me at
your papers address, and therein present a means for contact, as well as such
evidence of being a legitimate claimant as he or she may be able to provide.
The evidence so provided
will be investigated, and upon satisfactory proof that the claim is valid, I
will personally contact the potential heir or heiress with further
instructions. I give one warning, that spurious claimants will be prosecuted to
the full extent of the law on charges of fraud and conspiracy to commit fraud.
I thank you sir, for your
willingness to assist me in this matter. Your discretion is most sincerely
appreciated.
Sincerely,
Mr. T. C. Solicitor
NOTE TO OUR READERS: Obviously Mr. Solicitor is very concerned with discretion. While we cannot appreciate his opinion of our paper, it is his opinion, and his generous contribution compels us not only to publish his plea but to act (with the discretion he so values) in capacity of liaison. All replies to Mr. Solicitor received by this paper, will be forwarded to him directly and no information (not even initials) published without prior consent from those involved. The Teatime Tattler appreciates the support of all of its readers and thank you for your support.
