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Count’s Actions Get Curiouser and Curioser

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On January 28, 2023

In Elizabeth Ellen Carter, gossip, Teatime Tattler

There’s been scandalous talk in some corners of the Bon Ton regarding the company kept by the eligible bachelor, Armand Danger, Comte de Ytres.

Rumour has it that he was spotted at White’s seeking out the company of Lord Kingston Prendegast. Now your correspondent has it on good authority that the only reason why one seeks out the man willingly is to seek an invitations to one of his parties.

Few details are known about what goes on inside these bacchanals, as both guests and servants are sworn to secrecy suffice to say that the finest of spirits (and the finest of the lightskirts) are to be found.

We are curious to know what the good count is up to given his predeliction for attending auction houses of late and being seen in the company of one Miss Jade Bridges, sister of the current proprietor of Bridges & Sons.

A CURIO FOR THE COUNT

To find his future, he must own his past…

An excerpt from A Curio For The Count:
Lord Prendegast was easy to spot.

His costume hinted at a Tudor style – a close-fitting doublet in red satin edged in black which featured mameluke sleeves of red satin slashed with black. His hose was the same shade of scarlet. His shoes were red leather held by gold buckles and black bows, while gold rings and a striking collar made of large square links sat around his shoulders and neck.

Armand imagined this would be how a libertine Sir Francis Drake might dress. But who was he representing?

Mephistopheles?

It seemed appropriate.

Prendegast headed his way. Armand acknowledged him with a nod, but not his name.

His host clasped him by the shoulders. “Come now, do you see nothing to your liking?”

Armand forced a laugh. “I see plenty – too much to take in all at once.”

“Then greed is not your deadly sin. Very wise of you. The virtuous say to delay gratification is to make the conquest more satisfying. Perhaps there is something to it, perhaps not. Every taste is catered for here. You must be one of my first-time guests.”

He nodded over to a clutch of colorfully dressed prostitutes.

“Nothing is off-limits to my guests. If they do not whet your appetite, you may wish to sample the serving wenches as well as the food.”

He watched as Armand took it all in – the spectacle, the displays of flesh. More welcome than any of that was the smell of freshly roasted meat on a spit.

Prendegast noticed his interest.

“Lust and gluttony can be a potent combination. Enjoy.”

Armand bowed, took another sip from his ale, and put a lightness in his step to stop himself from looking entirely sober and used the opportunity to wander around the gardens.

There were more here than just the statue of Athena. There were at least a dozen magnificent life-sized figures from the pantheon of Greek deity. Armand had no idea who the sculptor was, but he could appreciate the workmanship. It was tempting to run his hands along the shapely calf of Aphrodite, so he did and ignored any strange glances that might have been directed his way.

Why not? Nothing was off-limits.

The anonymous sculptor was a master of his craft. Armand understood how Prometheus thought, his desire to create a beautiful woman – his perfect woman captured in marble and yet brought to life.

Armand allowed himself to feel a measure of hope for his mission.

Given the sculptures in the grounds, perhaps it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that the Thalatte clock was in this building after all.

A CURIO FOR THE COUNT (BOOK TWO, THE GEMS OF LONDON)

Raised as an Englishman, Armand Danger, Comte de Ytres, is troubled by a dream from his childhood that leaves him speculating on his French past.

He is convinced an elaborate clock belonging to his late father, executed in the French Revolution, holds the answers he seeks.

Miss Jade Bridges works as a valuer in her family’s London antiques shop and auction house. One day she receives mysterious letter from an anonymous client willing to pay any price for a very specific statue clock.

While in pursuit of the clock, Jade and Armand meet and there’s immediate attraction. But how can it amount to anything when they are rivals for the very same object?

As the couple grow closer and attraction deepens, they agree to join forces to find the timepiece together.
Then an antiques dealer is killed. It appears someone else is willing to extract a fatal price to possess the clock for themselves.

What is it about this curio for the count that someone is willing to commit murder for it?

About Elizabeth Ellen Carter

Elizabeth Ellen Carter is a USA Today best selling author who writes richly detailed historical romantic adventures that have been praised for their strong characters and ‘edge-of-seat intrigue’. Her eleventh full length title, Deceiving The Duke, will be released early in 2022 by Dragonblade Publishing.

A former newspaper journalist, Elizabeth ran an award-winning PR agency for 12 years. She lives in Queensland, Australia with her amazing husband and two adorable and mischievous cats. In addition to writing books, Elizabeth produces a online reader magazine called Love’s Great Adventure.

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Website: https://www.elizabethellencarter.com

 

All bets are off when love is on the line

Tempers Gallop; An Imprudent Wager Is Made!

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On March 19, 2022

In Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Teatime Tattler

From your special correspondent
York 1818

All bets are off when love is on the lineAll eyes will be on young, up-and-coming horse trainer Captain James Bentley and his cousin Captain Sir John Bentley, Viscount Tyrell, at this year’s York Races.

The pair of cavalry veterans have sunk every last penny into the Tyrell estate with ambitions to turn the dilapidated pile into Yorkshire’s finest training facility. This year they will enter a young colt, Crimson Lad, into the stakes.

It’s a risky venture made even more perilous by an imprudent contretemps witnessed by your correspondent.

The Earl of Seahaven, 0ne of this season’s regulars, was seen at the concert held at the  Merchant Adventurers Hall openly mocking the Bentley cousins’ enterprise directly in front of Sir John himself.

The handsome young Viscount– who has newly come by his title, it must be noted – did not take kindly to the insult, and wagered the Earl the princely sum of One-Hundred Pounds on the outcome of a horse race of the Earl’s choosing.

Twin sisters, two cousins... it could be love, or a four-to-one fancy.Such fits of impetuousness are not unknown in these events, dear reader, but the matter becomes all the more intriguing when one learns there is more than just gentlemanly pride involved.

Earlier that evening, Viscount Tyrell was seen sitting alongside the dowager Countess of Seahaven, Lady Patience Bigglesworth, and her step-daughter Lady Ivy Bigglesworth, who is considered to be one of this season’s diamonds. The Viscount and Lady Ivy were also seen in conversation prior to the confrontation with the Earl of Seahaven.

A good source tells me that the Earl was quite surprised to see his late cousin’s young widow and her brood of step-daughters so well turned out, as it has been long rumoured that pleas to improve the dowry of the late Earls’ six eligible daughters have fallen on deaf ears.

I don’t wager as a rule, but if the young Bigglesworth ladies have found champions in the Bentley cousins, I would put my guinea on a victory for Crimson Lad at this year’s York Races.

About The Four-to-One Fancy

Fate has given twins Ivy and Iris Bigglesworth a season in York. They vow to marry only brothers so the sisters will never be apart. But what are the odds of finding and falling in love with two eligible brothers? Hearts race when they meet two handsome cousins who are betting their future on a risky racing venture. Soon the twins learn there are more than fortunes to be lost on a four-to-one fancy.

Excerpt from The Four-to-One Fancy:

The Earl of Seahaven was about a decade-and-a-half older than himself, John estimated, which would put him in his late thirties. Already there were signs that the man was not as healthy as he ought to be.

A redness in the nose indicated a fondness of a little too much drink. A bit of softness around the middle indicated an equal love of food.

He was also introduced to the Countess who, no doubt, was a diamond of the first water in her day. At a distance, she could still claim the title of handsome, but her beauty now was brittle.

After bowing to the woman, John found himself wishing more than anything else to be back in the convivial company of Ivy and her stepmother.

“Did I hear right, Tyrell? You have an interest in the ole gee-gees?”

John gritted his teeth at the use of such a juvenile term for horses. He answered: “Indeed, we do, sir. A very promising colt we hope will do well at the York races.”

“Well, I’ve been known to back a few winners in my time,” the Earl boasted. “A bit of success with the fillies, if you know what I mean.”

John did know and his contempt for the man grew.

“Oh, there’s more to Lord Tyrell’s interest than just the horse,” said Lady Clune, cheerfully oblivious to the rising tension between the two men. “The Viscount and his cousin are looking to build a training facility for racing horses.”

The Earl burst out laughing. “I’d say you’re a damned fool. It’s one thing to have a flutter, quite another to sink your life savings into it.”

John’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth to prevent himself from setting the man on his arse—peer or not.

“Would you care to wager on it, my lord?” he found himself saying.

He watched the Earl’s changing expression closely—humor, smug satisfaction, surprise, then curiosity.

“A wager, you say?”

“A hundred pounds on a winner. You pick the race.”

John heard Lady Clune gasp.

If his rational self had been in charge of his brain, he’d have simply ignored the Earl, but the insult had been given, not just to himself, but also to the Bigglesworth girls. The idea of becoming their champion greatly appealed.

Find out the full story: The Four-to-One Fancy in Desperate Daughters.

Pre-order now.

Biography

Elizabeth Ellen Carter is a USA Today bestselling author and an award-winning historical romance writer who pens richly detailed historical romantic adventures. A former newspaper journalist, Carter ran an award-winning PR agency for 12 years. The author lives in Australia with her husband and two cats.

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A Kidnap Threat To The Ambassador to the Kingdom of Two Naples!

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On June 13, 2018

In Character Interview, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Despatches from Palermo (1810)
by Lord William Bentinck, English Ambassador to the Kingdom of Two Naples

Lord William Bentinck, pictured here as Captain in a portrait painted by George Romney. William Bentinck was ambassador to the Kingdom of Two Naples 1812-1816

My dear Lord Chamberlain,
I enclose this letter to you privately, so it will not appear in official correspondence.

I find myself the subject of a most extraordinary plot – one of kidnap on the high seas.

As you know, I have entered delicate negotiations with the Bey of Tunis for the release of more than three hundred Sicilians who were forcibly abducted from their home by the corsairs of the Barbary Coast.

Not only is it a matter of justice, but freeing of these unfortunate souls would also build immeasurable goodwill among the people whose interest I am trying to further with my reforms.

So far, standard diplomatic tactics have proved fruitless with the Bey. I don’t know if you are familiar with this culture but it appears to be the custom for the all the promises in the world to be made but when it comes time to deliver, it is a never ending litany of excuses.

With Napoleon’s Empire at my back in Naples and the Barbary Coast Pirates at my front, it is no easy task set before me. You know of my penchant to follow my intuition and I have done so once again with two young men.

Let’s hope Captain Hardacre can deal with the captured French Frigate in a less spectacular manner.

Captain Christopher Hardacre is an Englishman who runs a merchant vessel out of Palermo. He’s come to me with the most extraordinary tale. It seems one of the pirates has acquired a French frigate and he harbours ambitions to abduct me and my wife and hold us for ransom.

It sounded like a ravings of a mad man – and I have to confess that if was just his testimony alone I’d ignore it, but in Hardacre’s favour is one of his men, an African by the name of Jonathan Afua who I’ve come to learn is a son of one of Ethiopia’s most aristocratic families. He strikes me as being a much more steady character than his captain. It is his grave assessment I’ve learned to trust.

As for the abduction threat, Hardacre has hatched an audacious plan to keep me safe in exchange for the claiming the French frigate for himself as spoils.

Whether Hardacre succeeds or not is immaterial as I have appraised Admiral Freemantle who has agreed that the next meeting with the Bey of Tunis should be done as a show of force so we will be arriving in Tunisia with a fleet that also contains the flagship The Milford.

I’ll write when I have more news,

William

 

Excerpt

Shadow of the Corsairs

Bagrada

Shadow of the Corsairs – out June 26 2018 – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07DM9VJ5Z

Jonathan’s stomach soured.

Even though it had been more than a year since his captivity there, the very sound of its name reminded him there was work still to finish, a past that could not draw to a close until he had answers.

“Bagrada. Are you sure?” Elias asked. “We’ve sailed by several times over the past six months and there’s no noteworthy activity there.”

Hardacre looked up from the map of the Tunisian coastline. “Sharrouf is certain.”

Elias snorted and folded his arms. “I think you put too much stock in what that man says. He’s a snake, Kit, and he’s not to be trusted.”

“I never said he was to be trusted. He might very well hate Kaddouri as much as we do. But so long as he is a member of the inner circle, then he is useful to us.”

“Unless Kaddouri is using him to lure us into a trap,” countered the first officer. “We’ve stopped three of his raids over the past twelve months and helped free more than a hundred enslaved souls. He’d be just as keen to see the end of us.”

Jonathan shook his head. Kit and Elias bickered like he and his older brother used to. It was time for him to step in.

“What’s Sharrouf getting in exchange for telling you the location of Kaddouri’s fleet?” he asked.

“Information here and there to help with something.”

“Which is?”

“Kidnapping Lord William Bentinck.”

“You jest!”

Hardacre said nothing for a moment. The upturn of his lip was trouble, Jonathan knew that, and so did Elias who turned away with an exaggerated groan.

“Go on,” said Jonathan. “Tell us the whole thing before you make Elias’ head explode.”

“I might not have been completely honest with Sharrouf,” Hardacre confessed. This time, both ends of his mouth lifted and there was a twinkle of manic glee in his eyes. “I told him Bentinck plans another trip to Tunis to petition for the release of the Sicilian slaves, but I neglected to tell him Bentinck’s going with a show of strength instead of taking one ship with a single escort. Accompanying The Milford will be a dozen heavily-armed ships from the Royal Navy.”

“And both Bentinck and Admiral Fremantle know to expect an attack,” Jonathan concluded. “That’s a good plan. What makes you sure Kaddouri will take the bait?”

“Oh, he will. Sharrouf has told me he’s just managed to acquire a double gunned frigate.”

Elias rocked back on his feet. “How has he managed to get one of those? That would carry almost as much firepower as The Milford.”

A Famous Artist Asks For Help

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On January 27, 2018

In Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Historical Period, Teatime Tattler

Dear Mr. Clemens,

Elisabeth Vigee-Lebrun. A self-portrait. The late 18th-early 19th century French portrait painter was one of Marie-Antoinette’s favourite court painters

I am writing to ask if you will lend your considerable influence as one of society’s leading doyen in sponsoring a talented young artist I have taken a liking to.

Miss Laura Cappleman, you may have heard, made a successful debut in the Season of 1814, but the events after that time have been largely tragic.

You might think it quite selfish of me to make light of the poor girl’s misfortune, but it seems to have quite the unexpected outcome.

You see, her experience has made her art one of a kind. When she paints scenes of the Oriental marketplaces of Africa or of life inside the Ottoman harem, one is utterly transported.

One can feel the beating heat of the sun, smell the pungent aroma of the spices, shudder the menace of the large eunuchs and their scimitars, be awe-struck by the opulence inside these pleasure palaces.

Miss Cappleman knows these places first hand. If her name didn’t ring a bell when I first mentioned it, I’m sure you remember hearing about her abduction in August of 1814 at the hands of white slavers. It was covered in The Times.

The story of her rescue two years later is one of the most remarkable tales I’ve heard. I’m trying to persuade her to draw on her experience more to create great art for the world to see.

The Royal Academy summer exhibition is the perfect opportunity for this young lady to make a debut of another sort – a launch into the artworld which is her due.

A word in the ear of the Royal Academy directors and sponsors to consider this impressive young artist would be considered a personal favour.

Yours,
Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun

Revenge of the Corsairs

Madame Vigée-Le Brun stood in front of the still life. She pulled a small pince-nez from her reticule to take a close look. After a minute or two, the great French artist left that painting without comment and examined the portrait of Victoria.

Pull yourself together, Laura! If she were to enter the Royal Academy’s exhibition, her works would be judged worthy or wanting in a heartbeat. If she were to exhibit at all, many people would be staring at her work. Yet this somehow, seemed different.

After a length of time, the French woman looked up from the portrait and spoke. “I understand from your sister-in-law that you have returned to England only recently.”

“Yes. I spent time abroad.”

“Did you do anything? Did you see anything?”

Laura’s mouth dried. “I, ah, I mean, I spent time in Sicily and…”

The artist removed the glasses. “And you experienced nothing?”

“I beg your pardon?”

The older woman let out a long, put-upon sigh. “All I see is practiced technique, adequate color choice, and a schoolgirl’s sensibilities.”

Laura couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her mouth.

“I’m sure you are a delight to your friends and family, who no doubt praise you endlessly, but I am not here to coddle or to give you false flattery. I do not see the soul of an artist in these paintings.”

Laura fought a trembling of shame, and fear, and disappointment. It was a small miracle she was able to reply, “Then I am sorry to have wasted your time, Madame.”

The woman shrugged. “I said I would look at your works and I will.”

The third painting, she studied for a few seconds; the fourth, the landscape, received nothing more than a cursory glance. “I spent three years in Rome, I was inducted into the Accademia di San Luca,” she continued conversationally, either unaware or unconcerned Laura’s hope had turned to dust.

“How very nice for you,” replied Laura, bitterness dripping from each word.

“What I am trying to say to you, ma fille, is your work seems utterly unmarked by your time abroad. That, I fear, makes you a dabbler, someone who pretends to be an artist. If you can live on La Méditerranée and not be influenced by such histoire, people, and surroundings, then I’m afraid you will be nothing more than a very little talent.”

Laura looked down. Her knuckles were white, but her face, she was sure, was puce. Her disappointment of a few moments ago was now a rage. How dare that woman say she was unmarked!

“How dare you?” she repeated out loud, unaware Madame Vigée-Le Brun had approached her final painting.

“You have no idea what happened to me there. No idea! I have been scarred to the depths of my soul. I was seized and imprisoned for nearly two years in an Ottoman harem. I was violated repeatedly by a man who had the power of life and death over me. The only good thing I have left is painting. Can you blame me for not wanting it tainted?”

When she looked up, Madame Vigée-Le Brun was not looking at her; she peered instead at the last painting, the Tunisian market scene. “La! That is it – c’est de cela que je parlais!”

Her face animated, the woman turned the easel around so the canvas faced them both. Laura could feel the desert heat of its colors from where she stood.

“You are afraid of this beast that is locked in your breast? Let it out, my dear! You cannot hide from it! I see hints of it in this painting here. In this work, I begin to see the world as you see it.”

Revenge of the Corsairs out now exclusive to Amazon

Hearts and Diamonds At Risk

By

On September 25, 2017

In Ask Aunt Augusta, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Teatime Tattler

Ask Aunt Augusta

Dear Aunt Agatha,
I am a young lady with a dilemma. I think one of my dearest friends is going to propose marriage.

You might ask how I know, but one goes not need to be a Scotland Yard detective to see the signs – a particular look, a request for a private interview, hints made at a jewellers…

Now for some, this would be a delightful proposition, but as much as I am fond of my dear friend, I am not in love with him. So how can I kindly  refuse him without ruining our friendship and causing distress to his family and mine?

And secondly, how does a man disappear with an arm full of diamonds without leaving a trace?

Your faithful reader,
Caro A.

Dear Miss C,
My goodness what a conundrum you have my dear!

Let us address your problems one at a time.

Yes indeed, if everything is as you say, then it would appear that your male friend indeed may be proposing marriage but are you sure who the intended bride will be?

Are there other young ladies in your circle of acquaintance you can confide in to see if they concur with your tell-tale signs.

If they are in agreement, then you must break the news as gently as you can to your poor swain, assuring him that the fault is not is, but rather a woman’s heart is a fickle thing.

Have you asked any of your female friends how they feel about your unintended intended? A little matchmaking to nudge cupid along, might be just thing to help two people who truly do belong together.

As to your second question, I cannot answer for the male sex.

For the female of the species, the answer is two fold. One, to obtain an armful of diamonds, she must inherit or marry very well – preferably several times over. Secondly, a woman with such an armful, shows them off and so does not disappear without a trace.

Indeed, that is a question for Scotland Yard.

I wish you the very best,
Aunt Agatha

About The Thief of Hearts

The Thief Of Hearts. This Christmas is going to be magic!

December 1890. London, England.
Some seriously clever sleight of hand is needed if aspiring lawyer Caro Addison is ever going to enjoy this Christmas. To avoid an unwanted marriage proposal, she needs a distraction as neat as the tricks used by The Phantom, the audacious diamond thief who has left Scotland Yard clueless.
While her detective inspector uncle methodically hunts the villain, Caro decides to investigate a suspect of her own – the handsome Tobias Black, a magician extraordinaire, known as The Dark Duke. He’s the only one with the means, motive and opportunity but the art of illusion means not everything is as it seems, in both crime and affairs of the heart.
As Christmas Day draws near, Caro must decide whether it is worth risking reputations and friendships in order to follow her desires.

Available on Amazon

Excerpt

Caro’s butterflies returned as Bertie led her into the jeweller’s.

“Miss Caroline! A pleasure to see you again,” said the jeweller. “I hope you’ve come to tell me that you’ve single-handedly apprehended The Phantom.”

“Alas not, Mr Hargreaves,” she answered, “that is most certainly a job best left for the police. I’m here on a professional matter – your profession.”

Bertie looked up from the glass case in front of him.

“May I see the rings in that tray please?”

Mr Hargreaves was only too happy to oblige.

Bertie fingered row upon row of rings before pulling out two. The first was an oval cut sapphire – from Ceylon, the jeweller informed them – surrounded with round diamonds and mounted in gold. The second gold ring featured a faceted stone that shone pinks, blues and greens – Alexandrite, Caro learned – and that stone was surrounded by tiny seed pearls.

Bertie held them both out to Caro.

“You’re really good at hypotheticals, Caro, so let me try this one on you. If you were going to be surprised with a ring, which one would you prefer?”

Caro quelled her nerves and gave the question serious thought before answering.

“Both rings are absolutely beautiful, but I don’t think it would be much of a surprise if the girl knew she was getting a choice!”

Bertie shook his head with a smile and swept away the fringe that flopped over his brow.

“Seriously? You’re not going to tell me which one I ought to get?”

“I’m not the one proposing – you’re going to have to do that for yourself.” Caro grew serious. “But, this being a purely hypothetical question, let me put it back onto you. When you think of the girl you are planning to surprise, which ring reminds you of her?”

Bertie looked thoughtful for a moment and turned back to Mr Hargreaves.

“Could you put these two rings aside for me for the next few days, while I think about it?”

About the author

Elizabeth Ellen Carter is an award-winning historical romance writer who pens richly detailed historical romantic adventures. A former newspaper journalist, Carter ran an award-winning PR agency for 12 years. The author lives in Australia with her husband and two cats. 

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