Category: Bluestocking Belles Page 2 of 51

Strange Doings Back Home

On February 7, 2026

December 1816

Wheatton Village, Wiltshire

My dearest Maudie,

I’m writing to tell you our papa has overcome the Fever he suffered. You don’t need to travel home, the roads being unpleasant this time of year, and you so far up north. My Edward continues to managing the drapery with the old man ill. While I shudder to be blunt, the business prospers under his care, no matter what you might have heard from Papa who, as I’ve written is becoming queer in his old age.

You ask for such village news as it is, and I’m happy to send it. Mrs. Mckinny and old Eunice Martin quarreled over church flowers as always, especially this time of year. That solicitor who moved here after you left is stepping out with Eunice Martin’s daughter. The Martin’s are preening even though that boy of theirs got sent down from the fancy school they sent him too.

Squire Archer’s nephew, a decent enough lad, has been hired as the steward up at the big house—yes, Murnane House—and him barely past twenty. I heard it was the Wheatly woman that recommended him, she that was the vicar’s daughter’s by-blow that Lord Arthur took in. A less feminine creature I never met. Imagine the earl listening to a woman like that about something as important as hiring a steward.

Oh. About the earl. The duchess’s brother the Earl of Chadbourn has been seeing to the Murnane estate now the Duke is dead, the duchess being a flutter brain. He’s the boy’s guardian. Making Johnny Archer a steward isn’t the oddest thing he’s done. Here’s the most interesting news. The Wheatlys over at Songbird Cottage have been visiting at the big house. Do you remember that ever happening before? I don’t. The old duke and the most recent one never allowed it. After all, when the vicar’s daughter disappeared and came back with a child, the old man had conniptions. Forbade his sons to have anything to do with her. Disgrace he called it and all of Wheatton knew it What did Lord Arthur do but up and marry the woman. Th’old duke called it a disgrace. Now they’re up at Murnane House for dinner as bold as you please. No good can come of that!

Papa says to tell you he’s dying. I send you his words and suggest you ignore him. No point you trekking all the way here from Yorkshire and bunking in with Ed and I. We have little enough room with Papa underfoot.

Will write again when there is news

Your sister,

Esther

About the Book

Family Honor, Book One Honor at Heart

Two passions rule Will Landrum’s life: family and a devotion to the land and those who depend on it. The only benefit of being Earl of Chadbourn that matters to him is the right to care for those things. Carrying family burdens can be lonely, however, without a life partner.

Catherine Wheatly’s mother married her beloved Papa when Cath was ten. Her dubious background has kept her single. No one ever had to explain to Cath that base-born daughters have few marriage prospects. She knew. She contented herself being the best land steward in the county, helping Papa with his research, and raising her two brothers.

Trapped by his brother-in-law’s death into responsibility for his traumatized nephew, grieving sister, and an estate gone to ruin, loneliness overwhelms Will. The first rate husbandry of a neighboring farm and Catherine, who runs it, draw him like a moth to a flame. Her background means nothing to him, especially when he learns what his family has done. With Christmas coming, can he repair the damaged estate and far more damaged family? Dare he hope for love in the bargain?

This new edition of A Dangerous Nativity, fully edited and updated, with a new epilogue launches March 24, 2026. It is available for pre-order now.

Preorder from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Family-Honor-at-Heart-ebook/dp/B0GKHVMTJY

OR various other retailers: https://books2read.com/u/3JdJwQ

About the Author

Caroline Warfield – Authorr

Award winning author, Caroline Warfield, grew up in a peripatetic army family, and the need to travel never left her. After a varied career (largely around libraries and technology) she retired to the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania to be closer to family and to write. She remains a traveler and adventurer, enamored of owls, books, history, and beautiful gardens (but not the act of gardening). She writes family centered, emotionally rich, sensual stories set in the Regency and Victorian periods.

Find Caroline on the Web:
Website http://www.carolinewarfield.com/
Amazon Author http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/
Good Reads http://bit.ly/1C5blTm
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/WarfieldFellowTravelers
BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/caroline-warfield
You Tube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCycyfKdNnZlueqo8MlgWyWQ
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/gma-roddy.bsky.social

Three New Grand Sponsors for The Teatime Tattler

By Bluestocking Belles

On January 12, 2026

In Jude Knight, Teatime Tattler

“Mr Clemens, Mr Clemens,” gasped Joseph Spratt, the newest and keenest of the newshounds who worked for The Teatime Tattler. “Breaking news, sir! The Bluestocking Belles have three new members.”

Sam smiled benignly. The boy was good. But nowhere near as good as Sam. Without a word, he waved towards the galley proofs spread across the large table. Joe read the headline. “Three New Grand Sponsors The Teatime Tattler”. “Oh!” said Joe. “You knew, sir.”

“I did indeed,” said Sam, who had written the article in question. The Bluestocking Belles had founded The Teatime Tattler, and had been supporting it for ten years. Of course Sam, the editor and proprietor, heard about changes in their membership before the news was released to the public.

Sam was sorry to farewell Lady Elizabeth Ellen Carter, whose stories about spies and corsairs had provided some wonderful copy. But he looked forward to hearing more about the new ladies.

Ten Bluestocking Belles sending him gossip, scandal, and intrigue to publish every Saturday! Sam rubbed his hands together in glee.

***
The Proprietor and Employees of The Teatime Tattler are proud to welcome the following ladies to the ranks of The Bluestocking Belles. The newspaper’s special relationship with those grand ladies is well known to most of our readers, and we are certain that Lady Aileen Fish, Lady Barbara Monajem, and Lady Elizabeth Donne will do great credit to their new roles and further enhance the reputation of our magnificent sponsors.

More information about each lady can be found below.

Meet Aileen Fish and view Aileen’s books

Meet Barbara Monajem and view Barbara’s books

Meet Elizabeth Donne and view Elizabeth’s books

Or follow the links on the drop down menus at the top of this post.

Soldier’s wife a credit to English womanhood

By Bluestocking Belles

On December 12, 2025

In Jude Knight, Teatime Tattler

If it sometimes seems that The Teatime Tattler has nothing but scandal and bad news, then do not blame us, dear reader. Such stories are sadly plentiful. But every now and then a story comes across our desk that touches even our calloused hearts, and that reassures us that courage, perseverance and loyalty still exist in this war-weary world.

Such is the story of Maggie Parker and her children. Picture, if you will, the daughter of one of our brave soldiers, a sergeant, who died in the service of God and his country. Maggie, a good and modest girl for all that she had been raised by her father in the army’s train, was told to choose a husband. And quite right, too, dear reader. The army is no place for a virtuous single girl with neither father nor husband.

Dear reader, Maggie was fortunate. There was a corporal she liked, a William Parker, and he like her, and so they were married, and for a time they were blissfully happy, even in the midst of war. Their son was born, and named for his father, and little Billy grew and prospered. Never was a little family so content.

But war is a dreadful thing, and when the French were driven from Spain and Will’s regiment were given their orders to march after them and end the long war, Billy had one of those childhood illnesses that are short duration but terrifying to parents. Maggie, who was also ill as her second confinement approached, remained behind.

And that, dear reader, was the last this gallant lady heard of her dear husband.

By the time she, her son, and her new daughter were well enough to follow him to France, the peace had been signed, his regiment had been sent elsewhere, and nobody could – or, perhaps, would – tell her whether Corporal William Parker was still in the land of the living.

Maggie returned to Spain, and worked to save money to travel to England, where she hoped to find Will’s mother. A determined woman can conquer mountains, and Maggie made it to England, but on the way she found a difficulty. Parker is a common name, and the only thing she knew about Mrs. Parker’s address was the name of the village. Ashton. How many villages are there in England with the name Ashton? Twenty or more, spread across the land.

But that did not deter Maggie Parker. She arrived in Portsmouth, purchased a wheelbarrow, set her baggage and her son in it, strapped her daughter to her back, and set off to find her mother-in-law.

Spare a thought for this gallant woman, the flower of English womanhood, marching the roads of England with all the determination of a conquering army.

Dear reader, I am certain you join with all of us at The Teatime Tattler in wishing her God Speed, and a Happy Ending.

***

Maggie’s Wheelbarrow in Merry Belles

A year ago, Maggie’s husband marched out of Spain with his regiment to invade France. She hasn’t heard from him since, and when she followed him, the battles were over and his regiment was gone. Letters to the army, him, and his family have brought no answers, so she and her children are off to find him, even if they have to walk the length and breadth of England.

(Merry Belles is a Bluestocking Belles collection.)

Wicked Doings in Rural Paradise

By Bluestocking Belles

On November 21, 2025

In Jude Knight, Teatime Tattler

The village of Marplestead has an unusual, some would say scandalous, tradition. On Christmas Day, any woman who finds a silver coin in her slice of the Christmas pudding is appointed Lady of Misrule for the duration of the Christmastide Feast.

In itself, that is harmless enough, provided the winner is a woman of character. But New Year’s Eve in Marplestead is known as the Festival of the Lady of Misrule. On that day, and particularly on that evening, the women defy the dictates of their nature, and rule the town. Woe betide any man who is abroad on that fateful day, for he is likely to find himself the butt of many a sly joke and merry jape.

Still worse fares any man who has offended a woman during the previous year, for by Marplestead tradition, women are free to take their revenge on that one day, as the old year passes into the new, provided that the Lady of Misrule approves. No magistrate of Marplestead will say them nay, or take any action against them.

Are you scandalized yet? If not, read on, for the most dire of circumstances occured in Marplestead on the New Year’s Eve that has just been, and it brought about circumstances that its perpetrators and its victim could never have forseen.

A Gift to the Heart

(A Twist Upon a Regency Tale Book 11)

by Jude Knight

When the Queen of Misrule takes over the town, sins are laid bare, and brothers lose their hearts.

When Cilla Wintergreen supports her sister’s plans to punish the man who ruined their friend, she helps in a miscarriage of justice, for they catch the wrong man. But no harm is done, except to her imagination. She cannot forget the sight of their victim, half naked, his torso shining in the candlelight. Just as well she is unlikely to meet him again. Until she does.

When Drake Sanderson is mistaken for his licentious older brother Colin, he readily forgives the women who captured him. After all, they release him when they realize he isn’t Colin. But the event changes his life, for one of those women captures his heart, and he won’t give up until she agrees to be his wife or marries another.

When Livy Wintergreen tries to take revenge on a cruel seducer, and catches the wrong man, she puts in train a series of events she could not have imagined. For she had long thought she was too old, too contentious, and too independent to find a man to love her.

When Bane Sanderson rescues his brother from female revelers out for retribution, he did not expect their queen to consume his heart and mind, until courting her seems the only sensible course of action. If she is not put off by his scars, his irregular birth will disgust her. But he must try.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FTFYXNXB

An excerpt from A Gift to the Heart

A shaming. Bane had never seen one, but he had heard about the last one. The man had been a serial fornicator, seducing one girl after the other with meaningless promises. After being led through the whole village and around the major farms and manors all one Misrule Night, he had left town and had never returned.

The object at the end of the ropes was plodding into view. It was a donkey, stolidly ignoring the ropes, the noise, and the murmuring of the onlookers. That, Bane saw at a glance.

What took his attention was not the steed but the rider. He was male. Since he wore nothing but knee breeches and a head-concealing mask in the form of a goat’s head, his gender was beyond a doubt. The broad shoulders and the muscular torso, arms, and thighs also bore witness.

He sat backward on the ass, bound to the saddle with rope, swaying slightly as if he was drunk.

With a jolt of shock, Bane realized he knew that torso, those arms! He narrowed his eyes as the rider drew level, and was aided by one of the dancers, who lifted her lamp so it shone on the rider’s elbow.

“It is Drake,” Bane said.

“Really?” asked the blacksmith. “What has Drake done to deserve a shaming?”

“Nothing,” Bane said, grimly, and took a step forward, but the blacksmith grabbed his arm.

“If you go out there, you’ll be joining him.”

“I can’t leave him there,” Bane protested, but the blacksmith was right. He’d not get Drake free without using his brain instead of just reacting. “I need my horse,” he said. “And a good knife. I’ll grab him when they take him off the donkey to throw him into the pond.”

“They’ll overpower you,” the blacksmith warned. “There are what? Fifty of them? One of you.”

“I can’t fight them. Not women,” Bane admitted. “But I must try. If I get dunked alongside Drake, so be it.”

The blacksmith pursed his lips. “Cut the goat mask off,” he advised. “Let them see they’ve got the wrong man.”

That might work. Bane left for the barn, where he also stabled his horse.

He wanted to merely bridle the horse and be off after his brother, but his common sense told him that he might need the stability of saddle and stirrups. It took several minutes, even with the blacksmith’s help, but at last he was in the saddle and galloping after the Misrule party.

They had reached the pond and were dragging Drake from the saddle, none too gently. Fortunately for Drake, only a few of the women—ten at most—were involved in the dismounting. The rest were not even watching. Rather, they waited on the edge of the pond for the next event in the night’s entertainment. Bane grinned. He would give them something to watch.

He set the horse at a gallop, straight at the cluster around Drake, pulling up only at the last minute. They had, as he’d hoped, leapt out of the way, and Bane reached down and grabbed the rope that bound Drake’s arms to his body. “Mount behind me,” he shouted, and heaved as Drake jumped and scrambled until he was seated behind Bane.

The horse danced and skittered. Nightshade was skittish at the best of times, and he was taking exception to the torches, the masked ladies, the noise, the load, and the whole situation. That was a help, for the women who might have objected to losing their prisoner were keeping their distance.

“This is my brother Mandrake Sanderson,” Bane shouted. “He has done nothing worthy of a shaming.” He was pretending with his hands to be attempting to control the horse, but in truth, his calves and heels encouraging its jittery behavior.

A woman with the crown and staff of the Lady of Misrule stepped forward—an Amazon with dark curly hair. He could not see much of her face behind her half-mask, but what he could see distracted him for a moment. She was stunning.

“Mandrake?” she asked. “Not Colin?”

Another Encroaching Caulfield

By Bluestocking Belles

On November 8, 2025

In Caroline Warfield, Teatime Tattler

Dear readers, new events have brought an old scandal, one you may have thought had faded into the shadows, back into the light.

You remember no doubt the immense uproar caused by the Earl of Clarion’s outrageous will, that named his, shall we say, “informal”, offspring. Worse was the furor caused when his son, the new earl, appeared to welcome the lot of them as if they were true siblings.

Recently, one Seth Caulfield, boldly bearing the earl’s surname, appeared in London wearing the uniform of a naval officer of sorts. One gathered he bore the rank of surgeon, a warranted rank, not one of a gentleman to be sure. He had the look of a Caulfield about him, however, and no sooner than he had appeared than he was welcomed to the earl’s table and given full support. It appeared that another one of the, if you’ll pardon our language, Clarion Bastards has appeared on the scene. (I apologize if ladies take offense but we do like to speak the truth, and the man is well, not legitimate at all.)

Loyalty is well and good, but really, should such a blot on the family escutcheon be been pushed forward? For that is what the earl did, introducing the man to some of society’s best as his brother and inviting him to social events and house parties. One even heard the family pushed him toward a university, no doubt to raise his status from mere surgeon to physician.

The highest sticklers did not, of course receive him. But then, the highest don’t approve of Clarion himself. The earl’s radical politics caused more outrage in recent years, quieting the old scandal.

At least the newest Caulfield seems to have done society a favor by withdrawing from London. Rumor has it he has gone off to some obscure village in the north to practice medecine. We can only hope he stays there!
*****

Seth Caulfield is the hero of “The Angel’s Announcement, a Holiday Homicide,” in Merry Belles, the Bluestocking Belles’ newest collection.

You can order it here: https://books2read.com/u/mvRGPj

About the Story

Sybilla Somer was seventeen when Seth Caulfield disappeared without a word. For nine long years she wondered why. Now he’s back and she needs his help to solve a murder. There is no one else to do it.

Seth hadn’t been much older when Sibby’s father and brother drove him out with shouts of “bloody presuming bastard.” They delivered him to press gangs in Great Yarmouth. He assumed she knew. She didn’t, and she certainly didn’t care that his birth was irregular. The navy set him to helping the ship’s surgeon, a stroke of luck. He has returned a warranted surgeon himself.

They found the shepherd eight days before Christmas. Dead. When Sybilla and Seth are thrown together to solve the murder, to care for a small angel with a broken ankle — and to face the hurt between them, will the work and the season heal what lies between them?

About the Author

Caroline Warfield, former army brat, librarian, traveler, history-lover, and storyteller is a Bluestocking Belle. The story of the Earl of Clarion’s Bastards, the new earl’s radical politics, and his reconciliation with his siblings was told in the Ashmead Heirs Series. “The Angel’s Announcement” brings a lovely addition to their ranks.