Category: Historical Period Page 5 of 16

A most noble lady

Gentle Reader,

Is there anyone who doesn’t love a royal? Well, clearly, there is because we are extremely disturbed to inform you that the newest amongst our ranks has suffered not one but two attempts on her life! And yet, despite this horrors of such a thing occurring to one who could possibly be the sweetest, most demure royal we have ever encountered, she was seen at a ball less than twenty-four hours after her latest attack! Not only that, but telling anyone and everyone who would listen how imperative it is that she stand up not only herself, but her country, and the memory of her dearest, departed brother. We were nearly swooning at the girl’s bravery! I tell you, dear reader, if anyone can capture the villain responsible for attempting to harm our beloved princess, he will be declared a hero in truth.

In Lieu of a Princess by Meredith Bond

“This isn’t her Royal Highness,” the headmistress told the man and the woman who were staring at Lucinda with their mouths hanging open.

“But it could be.”

These words turn the life of Lucinda North upside down. Within hours, she agrees—against her better judgement—to impersonate the missing Princess Louisa of Aachen-Düren. Within a week, she meets the queen and the handsome and charming Lord Melfield. Within the month, she is living at Buckingham Palace, lying about her true identity not only to Queen Charlotte, but to all of Regency society, while someone is trying to kill her. Within her lifetime, she will never regret a moment of it.

Anthony Melfield would rather not waste his time helping a spoiled princess learn how to conduct herself. He would certainly rather not have to return to society after a heartbreak. And he most definitely would rather not have feelings for the princess, no matter how sweet, funny, and beautiful she is. To top it all, he would much rather not have to use his skills to save her life and figure out who wants her dead.

Hidden identities, a princess on the run, and three lives at stake… despite this, these royals and rebels must learn to trust and open themselves to a lifetime of love.

Purchase Link at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lieu-Princess-Royals-Rebels-Book-ebook/dp/B0BL1886VZ This book is enrolled in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:

“You said you had an opening for a language teacher? I, er, I brought references as you asked. I’m afraid two of them aren’t in English, but I do hope that won’t be too much of a problem,” Lou said, fumbling as she opened her portfolio while still standing in front of the headmistress. “I also have an essay which I—”

“But you look…” the woman started, completely ignoring the letters Lou was trying to hand her. “You are the spitting—”

“She cannot be found anywhere. I have ridden…” A man’s deep, accented voice made Lou spin around. “Oh! Eure Hoheit! Meine Prinzessin! Wo bist du gewesen?” He started to scold her gently in German before Lou held up a hand. He was a large man, probably a full foot taller than Lou, and looked strong enough to pull a horse rather than the other way around. His pale blond hair was windblown, and he was wearing riding clothes. He smelled as if he’d been in the saddle for some time.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she told him in German, “but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else. I am Lucinda North. I’m here to apply for a teaching position.”

He stopped and stared at her as if she had just grown a second head. “Was? Ist das eine Art Spiel?” He gave her a tentative smile.

Lou shook her head. “No. This is no game. Truly, I—”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Another woman joined them, also speaking German. “Where were you, Your Highness? You should know better than to scare us like that!”

“It’s not her,” the man said, turning to the middle-aged woman. She had dark blonde hair pulled into a tight chignon and a fashionable yet sensible gown of deep blue that made her cheeks look flushed.

“What do you mean? What nonsense are you—” The woman came forward and stopped just in front of Lou. Her eyes widened. “Your eyes. They are brown. Why are your eyes brown?”

“This isn’t Her Royal Highness,” Mrs. Carter told the man and the woman who were now staring at Lou with their mouths hanging open.

“It could be,” the woman said in strongly accented English. She stared at Lou as if she were a painting, examining every detail. “She’s got the same heart-shaped face, the same features, her height, build… She even has the same shade of blonde hair… But for the eyes.”

“What are you saying, woman?” the man snapped, turning to look at the lady.

“Who is she?” the woman asked the headmistress, ignoring him.

“She’s here for a teaching position,” Mrs. Carter told them.

The Author, Meredith Bond

Meredith Bond’s books straddle that beautiful line between historical romance and fantasy. An award-winning author, she writes fun traditional Regency romances, medieval Arthurian romances, and Regency romances with a touch of magic. Known for her characters “who slip readily into one’s heart,” Meredith loves to take her readers on a journey they won’t soon forget.

Merry loves connecting with readers. Be sure to find her:

Website: https://meredithbond.com

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Must we speak ill of a gentleman returned from the wars? Never!

By Cerise DeLand

On November 2, 2022

In Guest author, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Dear readers,

No one likes to speak ill of a gentleman returned from the wars.

We must pay our respects to that country baronet who has returned as gallantly as any ancient knight to take on his father’s title.

And surely all will… if Sir M. is ever seen at any social function, here or in the country, at all.

Apparently the gentleman is of good nature apart from the occasional raising of his voice. He has not inherited the icy sharp tongue of his mother, that Miss H. our readers may still remember for her public and very cutting rejection of her most highly-placed suitor.

Indeed, if the rustic reports are true, Sir M. is appropriately and publicly entertaining a young lady at his estate right now. And whether she is teaching him to ride again after the loss of his leg, or whether she is, as reported, a distant relative making him a gift of a biddable horse, surely the gentleman will be of better temper once he is astride again.

In this warm summer weather, it is only reasonable to venture abroad for fresher air, and if anyone happens upon a party with Sir M., they may confirm for themselves that his tendency to take off his coat in company is his only real fault.

There is nothing to the speculation that Sir M. has given shelter to a French spy, or that he has grown dissolute in his rural isolation. The gentleman remains gallant to anyone ladylike, and is far too clever to risk his reputation on anyone not like a lady.

* * *

Not Like a Lady

Letty’s lost everything but one friend, and her horse.

She desperately needs to convince the fierce baronet to buy any horse but hers.

Now she’s causing her own problems, because she can’t stop touching the man she wanted to hate.

The only way Sir Michael Grantley knows how to be the baronet of Roseford is to do what his father did. But he’s not his father; he’s a salty ex-sailor who lost half a leg in the war with a far worse temper. Struggling to be the new baronet, he’s desperate to get outdoors again – but for that he needs a biddable horse he can ride. He’s not prepared for the horse to come with a woman who wants her own life… and who decides that the key to her future is helping him ride again.

Letty has never been anything even close to a lady. Sir Michael imagines that the lady of Roseford Manor will be like his mother: calm and elegant. Neither of them can resist the one person they ought to refuse.

A sensual, engrossing, enchanting romance between two people who can’t keep their hands off one another.

Amazon: https://geni.us/notlikealady

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1610132457

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All buy links: https://find.judithlynne.com/950hat9ifa

EXCERPT:

“It’s hopeless.”

Michael swung himself down from the ropes using the handrails, and had only taken one crutch from Letty’s waiting hands to swing only a step or two away and then collapse on the cool grass.

Letty dropped his coat on his stomach quite unceremoniously, then plopped herself down on the grass next to him.

“Hopeless might be too strong a word,” she said but her dubious tone said that on the other hand, it might not.

Maggie had spent at least two hours walking in circles.

Michael’s thighs were aching and his frustrations had peaked at least twenty minutes ago. “Hopeless.”

Letty was watching Maggie crop placidly at the grass. Of all of them, she had to admit, Maggie looked the least exhausted. She had an infinite supply of patience, that horse. If the human wanted to walk around in circles forever, then by all that was holy, she would walk around in circles forever.

“I think we have to take off the stirrup.”

“Oh, do you?”

Letty looked down at Michael’s sweating, angry face. “I have not seen you sarcastic before, sir.”

“Does it not increase my lordly appeal?”

“I don’t know what that might be, but I daresay even without knowing what a lordly appeal should look like, I think that it does not.”

Michael sighed and closed his eyes.

She let him lie there for a moment, then one of her hands covered his and she said softly, “Don’t be discouraged, Michael, truly. It is only the first day.”

He opened his eyes and looked up at her where she sat by his side. Even the sky was gray to match his mood, but she still had her sunny hair and sunny smile, and they eased something in his chest.

He said, “If you are using my given name to appease my bad mood, it is working.”

* * *

Judith Lynne writes rule-breaking romances with love around every corner. Her characters tend to have deep convictions, electric pleasures, and, sometimes, weaponry.

She loves to write stories where characters are shaken by life, shaken down to their core, put out their hand… and love is there.

A history nerd with too many degrees, Judith Lynne lives in that other paradise, Ohio, with a truly adorable spouse, an apartment-sized domestic jungle, and a misgendered turtle. Also an award-winning science fiction author and screenwriter, she writes passionate Regency romances with a rich sense of place and time.

Come chat!

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Our great hero weds a widow and promises only companionship?

By Cerise DeLand

On October 29, 2022

In Bluestocking Belles, Cerise Deland, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Dear Reader,

I have it on best authority from servants in the house of a relative of the bride-to-be that our illustrious Hound of the Cavalry, decorated as he is and a newly minted earl, weds a widow today! This is such a loss to our many younger ladies who had hoped for a chance to enchant him!

We understand however that he has made promises to his new wife that they shall be forever just friends. Friends?

Does he not deserve more?

The comfort of a loving wife? The joy of children? The certainty that his line will be continued?

We are astonished that the lady would agree. But then, we’ve also heard that she requested this celibacy herself? What could possibly be her reason? Did she love her first husband so much? Did she promise him abstention? If so, where is her duty and her loyalty to her new husband?

Where is her love for him?

THE LYON’S SHARE by Cerise DeLand

She’d spend every last penny to marry again for security, comfort—or even friendship.

He’d win her wager, possess her, keep her for himself—even if he’d never win her love.

(Their wedding day in London.)

Sydney’s good friend and now his new brother-in-law, Henry, Lord Norbridge, handed him a whisky. “Welcome to the fold. Marlowe women are a unique brood.”

Sidney emptied his glass. Nerves were not a condition in which he usually indulged. “I’m pleased to be among you.”

“Do not say that too loudly.” Henry considered the three men younger than he who stood to one side of the bishop by the piano. “Our other brothers-in-law will have a thing or two to add to buck you up for the challenge.”

“Come now, Henry. You don’t want to frighten me off. I’ve had enough trouble getting this done.”

Henry clinked glasses with him. “Good job, too. However, I understand from my best source that we are still denying how good this union can be.”

Sidney frowned even as his heart swelled with the sight of his bride who stood across the room talking with her four sisters. “Adriana appears happy and …” Blast it. “Resigned to the match.”

“I hope you have plans to hasten her along. She’s been at this mourning business much too long and I dare say, it grows tedious. She needs to buck up.”

“I do agree.” I’d have her forget about Paul and focus her every thought on me.

Across the room, his new wife threw back her head to laugh at some remark of one of her sisters. Sidney vowed one day he’d make her do that whilst talking to him. She was a glory when happy.

“Give yourself joy in this too, Sidney. You deserve it. Don’t let her cow you into a friendship with no…”

“Benefits? Yes.” He absorbed the delicate beauty of his bride. How tall she was, how elegant, her long fingers and lithe limbs. Her lovely firm breasts. Her troth was his. Her vows. Her honor. But he had yearned for decades for more. Without hope too had he pined. Like a schoolboy. Watching Paul take her hand, help her to mount her horse or a carriage, embracing her in jest or passion.

His gaze swept down her form, her plump breasts spanning a gown of citron green velvet. She shifted to speak with one of her nieces and one long leg pulled the fabric taut to accentuate her limb. He wanted to run his hands up her leg, her arms, each inch of her. And how long could he wait to have her like that?

Forever, man. You vowed.

He put down his glass on a footman’s tray. “I have plans to draw her to me. But I have promised myself and Dove-Lyon, if she never wishes it, I will not pressure her.”

“A damn lonely way to live your life, my friend. You are Middlethorpe now. You have responsibilities.”

“That I know.”

“And needs.”

His gaze locked on Henry’s. “Never worry about that.”

“But I do. It is not natural what you promise. And I know how you truly regard my sister-in-law.”

He went to dust. “You will never say.”

“No, never. I would not break your trust. But damn it, Sidney, I like you as you are. I don’t want to see you turn bitter because you sold yourself into a bad bargain.”

“I fought one war, Henry. I can fight this one, too.”

“Can you?” His friend shook his head, weary. “It’s one thing to fight a foe with sabers and pistols. This opponent is yourself. Your very nature. Your every des—”

He clamped his hand on Henry’s shoulder. He’d had many women for a night, for the comfort and relief. One lovely French countess he’d kept in Paris last year for a month. “I will be well. I have girded myself with my own forbearance.”

“Which is strong, I do hope.”

Love. “The very stuff of life.” He smiled at his friend. “Forgive me now. I must take her away.” And begin my next campaign. The hardest one of all will be to become her best friend—and remain celibate.

The Lyon’s Share, the story

Adriana, Lady Benton, has many regrets—and one hope. To wed a good man to gain a life to which she is entitled. One free of sorrow, penury and ridicule. Appealing to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, Adriana hopes to attract one man who may appreciate her assets. But never need her love.

Colonel Sidney Wolf, once hailed as the ruthless ‘Hound of the Horse Guards’, vows to end Adriana’s hardships. He’s home from the wars and faces the daunting task of filling his father’s role as the Earl of Middlethorpe. Believing only Adriana will do as his helpmate, he strikes a deal with Dove-Lyon that brings him the one woman he admires. The one woman he tells himself he can live with—and never touch.

But the nearness of his funny, charming, beautiful bride drives him mad. Knowing she will never love other than her first husband, can he keep his hands—and his heart to himself?

And if he doesn’t, can she ever forgive him?

Cerise DeLand is the USA Today Bestselling author of romantic fiction starring sassy ladies and the charming men who adore them!

In KU on Amazon: https://amzn.to/3bc6ri3

A note from a Disgruntled Reader who says, “Publish This If You Dare!”

By Cerise DeLand

On August 3, 2022

In Guest author, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Dear Mr. Clemens,

Until last week, you enjoyed my greatest confidence that the Teatime Tattler reported London’s juiciest gossip. But now I must pose this question: whyever was your coverage of the Duke’s ball so woefully incomplete?

Becoming Wanton I have never before risked such correspondence, but I cannot resist, for I wish to know, sir. Do you abuse your discretion as publisher to protect certain lords in Parliament? Or were your usual sources so captivated by the obvious they overlooked the most delicious gossip? To be fair, most guests at the ball were not afforded my view…

Oh, I do not disagree that Lady Clara’s scandal was noteworthy. An earl’s sister and a Scottish industrialist? Yes, of course I gasped along with everyone else when that commoner brute swept her into his muscled arms after she swooned! And again when, carrying her to the terrace, he shouldered the very host of the ball out of the way! The Duke!

Any informed reader cannot, however, be surprised. This is the lady who withdrew from her coming-out season and rejected favorable courtships. Why, any close Mayfair neighbor can attest to the wicked music her fingers regularly elicit from her piano. Chopin’s most fervent pieces!

The other honorable guests at the ball were agape at the Scotsman and Lady Clara, but I cannot purge a different passionate image from my memory. I shall share it with you, sir, on the chance that its omission from the Tattler was not occasioned by favoritism.

At first I cursed being of such delicate stature and politeness that I did not forcefully maneuver to the front of the crowd. I now suspect a divine hand placed me, permitting me to witness…

No, before sharing that, first I must ask you—were you as gullible as I? Did you, too, believe the Marquess of Candleton was the proper statesman his activities in the House of Lords suggest? Were you taken in by the Marchioness’s modest gowns and impeccable manners all these years? Do not feel foolish, for I also had the wool pulled over my eyes. No more.

What was Lady Candleton’s expression full of as she observed the scene with Lady Clara? Not disapproval, as one might have assumed, nor gentle concern. No, she watched raptly and with envy—the kind with knowledge behind it. Her virtuous airs dupe me no longer.

If that wasn’t shocking enough, do be certain to sit before you read on. Lord Candleton, Britain’s champion and architect of reform, was not watching the scene everyone else was, oh no. He had eyes only for…his wife!

Suspend your disbelief; cast aside your assumptions about this lord and lady. Had you seen the fierce look of unfulfilled desire in Lord Candleton’s eyes this Society Matron did, you would have no doubt. Mark my words, something is raging within the Marquess and Marchioness, something we would all agree has no place in a respectable marriage!

***

About Becoming Wanton by Rebecca Aubrey:

This couple’s dilemma? They’re both married…to each other.

Lord William Dalfour, Marquess of Candleton, is in a terrible fix. Oh, he knows what’s expected of him. By day, he’s to face Britain’s challenges as a notable member of the House of Lords. Night means siring heirs in the dark with his marchioness, but only with the utmost decorum. His animalistic urges…well, those are to be unleashed in the Thames Fencing Club. Or with a mistress—if he had one.

One does not engage in wantonness with one’s wife and mother of one’s children. Oh, no. One does not become enchanted by one’s wife!

A respected society hostess and devoted parent, Lady Beatrice should be fulfilled by domestic bliss and having her husband’s ear on parliamentary business. Behind closed doors, however, she dares to come into her own, asking for more and testing the limits of William’s insistence on propriety—and his self-control.

No matter the pain his rejection inflicts, William’s highest duty is to keep Bea wholesome. Isn’t it? To protect her, even from himself? From herself. But what if honoring his wife means succumbing to their mutual craving? Worshiping her, body and soul…

Don’t miss Trade of a Lifetime, Book One in the Trade Wind Series, about Lady Clara and James Robertson.

Becoming Wanton on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B4LZNWK5

About Rebecca Aubrey:

Romantic by birth. Author by choice.

Rebecca Aubrey Rebecca writes about strong women, the men they find compelling, and the passion that ensues. Oh, and their clothes come off—whether corsets or clergy collars, gowns or gun holsters, breeches or business suits.

Count on intense emotional and physical attraction, and meticulously-researched settings. Between daydreams, Rebecca has detailed plans for her next book, bake, and cocktail—and a vague notion of what’s for dinner. Rebecca is also a lawyer and proud graduate of Smith College.

Visit her website and sign up for her newsletters at www.rebeccaaubrey.com.

Outrageous! A young lady with two beaux?

By Cerise DeLand

On July 20, 2022

In Guest author, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

Gentle Reader,

Society is agog and young debutants a slight shade of green as one of our newest members, the niece of Lady B—seems to have found herself not one beau, but two! The young lady, a very pretty miss who is by turns charming with a smile for all she meets or more sober and intellectually minded, is one who society is having difficulty comprehending. We are certainly not averse to beautiful bluestockings nor young ladies who are well rounded in their enjoyments, but the young lady in question have all wondering which Miss K– they are going to encounter when give a cheery wave. To this end, the young lady has attracted the notice to two very different sorts of gentlemen to her side. Lord C–, recently returned from Italy, can quite often be seen attending to her. When he isn’t there, it is Lord St. V—who is engaging her in deep, meaningful conversations.

The other young ladies of society respectfully wish for Miss K to make up her mind in order to leave the playing field open for those who have a mind to join the game.

Lady P— was overheard just the other day saying to her daughter that it was “simply too bad of her to hold onto the attention of two gentlemen. It’s not like she can marry them both.”

A Trick of Mirrors by Meredith Bond

Can the Ladies of the Wagering Whist Society help sort out a love quadrangle?

It’s not that the practical Beatrice Kendrick doesn’t trust her mirror twin, the vivacious and flirtatious Isabel. It’s just that the rebellious Bel has proven herself all too capable of welcoming the attentions of the wrong sort of man. So to keep her sister from getting into trouble, Bee secretly accompanies her when she goes to make her debut. Can Bee shield her own heart while trying to protect her sister? And can Bel ensure that her quiet sister gets a taste of the joys of London society – and a chance at romance?

When the broodingly romantic Edward Conway, nursing a broken heart, meets musically inclined Bel Kendrick, she stirs a passion in him he wasn’t sure he could ever feel again after the death of his Italian lover. The strappingly handsome Paul St. Vincent, too, meets the thoughtful and clever woman he thinks is Bel, and she seems to be just the sort of intellectually-minded woman he’s looking for. Only sometimes Edward senses that Bel doesn’t always remember what they’d discussed the last time they met. And at times she is entirely too giggly for Paul’s taste.

Both men, however, have decided that Miss Kendrick is the right woman for him. What they don’t realize is that they’re both right. But it will take a little sleight of hand by the ladies of the Wagering Whist Society to untangle this trick of mirrors.

Purchase Link at Books2Read: books2read.com/u/4AzO5d

Excerpt:

“Ah, Miss Kendrick, good evening,” said a very tall, blond-haired man standing with Lady Blakemore.

“Good evening,” Bee said. Her mind went absolutely blank for a moment as she took in this incredibly handsome man. He was wonderfully tall, and while Lord Conway filled out his coat extremely well, this gentleman made her feel almost overwhelmed by the strength of him. She suddenly realized she was staring at him like a fool, so she quickly added, “It’s lovely to see you again.” And then prayed that “she” had met him before.

“And you,” he said. His voice was deep and sent tingles down to her toes. “Have you started any more fascinating books since yesterday?”

Bee widened her eyes at him. Bel had spoken to him about books? But she hated reading—well, she hated reading anything that wasn’t a novel. Every once in a while, she would pick up a book on travel and look through the pictures, but that was the extent of her reading habits.

“Oh! I promise, I haven’t told a soul,” he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

“Thank goodness,” Bee said with a giggle, wondering what her sister might have said to this man.

“So, what are you reading just now?”

“A History of Greece by William Mitford,” she answered without thinking.

“A history? But you told me you hated histories,” he said with surprise.

“I…I did?”

“Most emphatically. You told me you disliked history and especially the history of Lincolnshire, in no uncertain terms.” He frowned as he seemed to think back to what she’d said—which was good since Bel hadn’t told Bee a word about this. “But you did say that you enjoyed reading about foreign lands, so I suppose Greece counts in that way.”

“Er…yes. Greece is definitely foreign. And, er, my uncle’s library here isn’t very extensive. I had very little to choose from.” Well, that was honest. What was also honest was the fact that Bee was going to have a serious word with her sister on alienating handsome men!

“Ah, I understand. One must make do, I suppose,” he said, his smile returning to his face.

“Yes,” she said, giving a little giggle. Bee wasn’t sure, but she thought all this giggling was giving her a headache.

“Well, I promised you no more discussion of the history of Lincolnshire, and I’m determined to keep to my promise.”

“The history of Lincolnshire? Oh, but it has such a wonderful, rich history,” she blurted before her tongue could catch up to her brain. But truly, the history of the area where she lived interested her beyond anything. She’d read every book she could find on the subject and had been to visit a great number of ruins, dragging poor Bel with her every time.

He frowned. “Yes, indeed, it does. But you made it more than clear to me yesterday that you had no interest in it.”

“Oh.” For a moment Bee wanted to curse her sister. How could she tell this fascinating man that she wasn’t interested in history? How could she tell him that she wasn’t interested in anything he wanted to discuss? He could talk about horse manure, and she would find it fascinating. “While that’s true, there are a great many fascinating ruins not far from where we live, not to mention Lincolnshire Cathedral itself, which is just beautiful.”

“I think I mentioned that to you myself,” he said, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, did you? I… I didn’t recall.” Ugh, now he was going to think her an idiot.

About the author:

Merry loves connecting with readers. Be sure to find her:

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