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Category: Regency (19th century Britain) Page 1 of 10

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

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 WantonI 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:

About Rebecca Aubrey:

Romantic by birth. Author by choice.

Rebecca AubreyRebecca 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

Outrageous! A young lady with two beaux?

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:


“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:

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:







Vital Correspondence Revealed!

Letter received by Lucy, Lady Cleeve, July 1817

Plas Coed, Capel Bodfan

My dear Lucy

I write again so soon after my last to ask for information. Today I received a letter from my brother, informing me (not asking, you understand) that my niece Isolde will be arriving shortly and staying “until she comes to her senses.” This is Izzy’s third season, I think, and she is as yet unwed—I suspect that my brother is being as dictatorial as ever and  Izzy has rebelled. It would be helpful to know more, if there is any talk in Town that you have overheard.

From Frederick’s reference to providing funds to ‘supplement my meagre income’ while Izzy is with me, I gather that he has still not found out about my change in circumstances since I arrived here. You will understand why I did not tell him beforehand, but it was not well done of me to keep the news from him in the years since.

Yours, as ever


Letter received by Lucy, Lady Cleeve, August 1817

My dear Lucy

Well the cat is out of the bag and no mistake! Your letter informing me of Izzy’s refusal to marry Lord O arrived only a day or two before my brother! The impoverished distant relative tasked to escort Izzy here must have let drop my current circumstances, and Frederick came to take Izzy home again. Such a bad example as I must be setting her! Oh, the horror!

But I have another favour to ask, if I may. Pray see if you can assist Izzy in some way. I believe she formed an attachment in the few weeks she was with me. Frederick would definitely not approve, and is likely to have her kept under close supervision. However I think the two young people would deal very well together if left to get on with their lives without my brother’s interference.

Yours, as ever


About the Book


An Embroidered Spoon

Can love bridge a class divide?

Wales 1817

After refusing every offer of marriage that comes her way, Isolde Farrington is packed off to a spinster aunt in Wales until she comes to her senses.

Rhys Williams, there on business, is turning over his uncle’s choice of bride for him, and the last thing he needs is to fall for an impertinent miss like Izzy – who takes Rhys for a yokel. But while a man may choose his wife, he cannot choose who he falls in love with.

Izzy’s new surroundings make her look at life, and Rhys, afresh. As she realises her early impressions were mistaken, her feelings about him begins to change.

But when her father, Lord Bedley, discovers the situation in Wales is not what he thought, and that Rhys is in trade, Izzy is hurriedly returned to London. Will a difference in class keep them apart?

Sale price: 0.99p/0.99c 21st – 26th June 2022 (UK and US only)

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Finally, Rhys reached the outskirts of Capel Bodfan and turned down Bridge Street. A smart chaise stood outside the inn, its sides liberally plastered in mud. A man Rhys remembered as one of Morgan’s grooms stood behind it, unfastening a trunk.

A young lady stepped out of the post-chaise, clad in a pelisse of deep blue frogged with gold. A much older woman descended to the cobbles beside her and looked around, an air of faint puzzlement on her face.

Rhys cast another glance at the travellers as he dismounted by the inn door. The young woman turned her head, and Rhys gave a silent whistle of appreciation. Eyes as blue as a Spanish sky, hair the rich colour of chestnuts, and lips like red wine, all set in an oval face. She spoke to the man with the trunk, who just shook his head and walked into the inn. Rhys slung his saddle bag over his shoulder and took hold of the reins.

“Excuse me?”

Her voice carried well. Rhys wondered who she was talking to as he started to lead Seren through the low arch to the stables.

“You with the horse!”

Rhys looked around. The animals from the post-chaise had already been stabled; he was the only person nearby with a horse. He turned to face her.

That expression would curdle milk.

“I’m looking for Miss Farrington, at…” The woman broke off to consult a piece of paper in her hand. “Stryd y Bont,” she added, mangling the pronunciation as most English people did. “Do you know where that is?”

Farrington? The only Englishwoman he knew around here was Mrs Lloyd.

His brow creased as a sense of familiarity nudged at his brain; he’d heard the name Farrington before.

Izzy tapped her foot as the yokel puzzled over her words. His mount was a magnificent beast, a black gelding with a white star on its forehead, but the man’s serviceable garments indicated he was from the lower orders.

Had he misunderstood her? Or perhaps he had not understood her at all—this place was deep in the heart of Wales.

“Do… you… speak… English?” She made her voice loud and clear to give him the best chance of understanding.

The man nodded, one side of his mouth curling up.

“Where is Stryd y Bont?” Was that the name of a house or a street? Had she even said the words correctly?

He took off his hat, revealing brown hair that curled loosely where it wasn’t soaked. His eyes narrowed as he scratched his head.

Was he a farmer? His skin was tanned, as if he spent a lot of time out of doors, and the mud on his steed and on his boots suggested he’d ridden some distance.

“Well?” she prompted.

“By yur, isn’t it.” He spoke in the sing-song tones of all the natives she had encountered on the journey.

“What…? What does ‘by yur’ mean?”

He pressed his lips together; the creases at their corners and beside his grey eyes gave the impression of suppressed laughter.

At me?

“This road, Miss. Bridge Street, isn’t it.”

“I asked you about Stryd…” Izzy shut her mouth with a snap, heat rising to her face as she realised that Stryd y Bont must be the Welsh for Bridge Street.

“Diwrnod da, Miss.” He knuckled his forehead and led the horse away.

Izzy’s eyes narrowed—were his shoulders shaking? He was laughing at her!


About the Author

Jayne Davis was hooked on Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer as a teenager, and longed to write similar novels herself. Real life intervened, and she had several careers, including as a non-fiction author under another name. That wasn’t quite the writing career she had in mind…

Finally, she got around to polishing up stories written for her own amusement in long winter evenings, and became the kind of author she’d dreamed of in her teens. She currently has 10 titles published, and is working on several more.




Amazon author page:

Overheard, a Conversation between Ladies arrived for the Season in York!

(This is a conversation between Lucinda, Lady Bittle who lives next door to the house Lord and Lady Beaumont rented for the York Season and her bosom friend Mrs. Almeria Thompson.)

Lady Bittle: “Almeria, I am so glad you could join me for tea. I have such news!”

Mrs. Thompson: “Please tell me it is about your new neighbors.”

Lady Bittle: “Yes, indeed. They are Lord and Lady Beaumont. You his main estate is north of York, but they usually spend the Season in London, and here they are for the first time!”

Mrs. Thompson: “How curious. Do you know the reason?”

Lady Bittle: They brought with them a gentleman by the name of Lord Sextus. An unusual name to be sure. However, the younger ladies, and some of the older ones I am sure, will swoon over his broad shoulders and blond hair.”

Mrs. Thompson titters: “He must be a younger son of at least a marquis, perhaps even a duke! Tell me, is he looking for a wife. He must be. And here in York!”

Lady Bittle: “Perhaps none of the young ladies in London were to his taste. In any event, that new young lady, Miss Staunton is apparently a friend of Lady Beaumont, and he has been introduced to her.”

Mrs. Thompson: I can only suppose that her ladyship is matchmaking between Miss Staunton and Lord Sextus.” She drinks a sip of tea. “Miss Staunton is quite lovely. Have you noticed that she resembles some of the Bigglesworth ladies?”

Lady Bittle: “Do you think they could be related? Perhaps that is the reason she chose York. To be near her relatives. One of her maids told my downstairs maid that she is from London.”

Mrs. Thompson: “Hmm. That is a fascinating thought, but none of the Bigglesworth ladies seemed to know who she was. At the al fresco party, at least one of them was introduced to Miss Staunton, but none of them appeared to have known her before, and she did not say she was related to them.”

Lady Bittle: “How disappointing. It would have been a great deal of fun to have discovered how they were related.” She picks up a ginger biscuit. “I wonder if Lord Sextus met Miss Staunton in London and that is the reason he is here.”

Mrs. Thompson clutched her hands to her breast. “How very romantic that would be. To think he convinced Lord and Lady Beaumont to hire a house so that he could follow her here! Come to think of it, he escorted her to the al fresco party. Yes, that must be it!”

Lady Bittle: “And Miss Staunton has been at the house next door a great deal, and every time the Beaumonts and Lord Sextus go out, she is with them.”

Mrs. Thompson: “Where will they wed I wonder.”

Lady Bittle goes to the window. “Not here. There is a wagon in front of the house. It looks as if they are preparing to depart.”

Mrs. Thompson sighs. “We will have to read about it in the London newssheets. How disappointing.”

From the new box set, Desperate Daughters, “I’ll Always Be Yours” by Ella Quinn

Desperate DaughtersAll her life Miss Harriett Staunton believed she was the natural daughter of an earl. In the merchant society in which she was raised, that only garnered improper proposals. Knowing she would never wed, she moved to York, far away from her London family.

Lord Sextus Trevor needs to wed. Unbeknownst to him his father has arranged a marriage. But before he is even told about the betrothal, he’s whisked off to York, where he meets Harriett Staunton and must find a way to defy his father.

The Earl of Seahaven desperately wanted a son and heir but died leaving nine daughters and a fifth wife. Cruelly turned out by the new earl, they live hand-to-mouth in a small cottage.

The young dowager Countess’s one regret is that she cannot give Seahaven’s dear girls a chance at happiness.

When a cousin offers the use of her townhouse in York during the season, the Countess rallies her stepdaughters. They will pool their resources so that the youngest marriageable daughters might make successful matches, thereby saving them all.

So start their adventures in York, amid a whirl of balls, lectures, and al fresco picnics. Is it possible each of them might find love by the time the York horse races bring the season to a close?

Excerpt, I’ll Always Be Yours

April, London docks.

“What the deuce?” Lord Sextus Trevor had no sooner left the ship upon which he’d arrived than he was bundled into a large traveling coach with a young matron he thought he remembered and a gentleman he didn’t know at all. The lady looked a great deal like his mother, Catherine, Duchess of Somerset, but she had the most unusual turquoise eyes.

Convinced he wasn’t being abducted he settled onto the comfortably padded bench. “I take it we are related?”

Her eyes began to twinkle as a wide smile graced her face. “I am your sister Thalia. This”—she motioned with her hand to the gentleman—“is my husband Giles.”

“Ah, yes. I received letters about your marriage.” Sextus looked at the baby sleeping on her lap. It couldn’t be more than a few months if that. “But where are Hawksworth and Meg?” Sextus’s eldest brother and his wife the Marquis and Marchioness of Hawksworth. “I understood I would be staying with them.”

Giles, the Duke of Kendal placed a protective arm around Thalia. “You were until Meg received a letter informing her that the duke had arranged a marriage for you. We are ensuring that you never receive the letter he sent to you informing you of your pending betrothal.”

Thalia closed her eyes and shuddered. “Be thankful you are of age, and he must have your agreement to any marriage.”

Considering the truly horrifying marriages the duke, their father, had arranged for two of his sisters, one to a peer who had killed three of his wives, and the other to a pox ridden duke in Scotland, merely so that he could have property he wanted, Sextus had to agree. “I am indeed fortunate. But if I am not to remain in Town, where are we going?”

His sister smiled again. “You will be attending the Season in York. Giles and I are taking you to Marcella and Octavius. Friends of Meg’s, Viscount and Viscountess Beaumont, who live just north of York, have leased a town house large enough to accommodate all of you. Lady Beaumont is very familiar with the local gentry and peers in the area. Granted, anyone who has a daughter to launch or who can afford it will be in Town, but she is convinced you will be able to find someone suitable.”

Sextus regarded Kendal’s amused mien. “Do you not have an estate somewhere in the area?”

“We do.” Kendal stretched out his legs. “But having a duke and duchess attending the York Season is bound to cause more comment than an earl and countess who are known to live in the area. Neither Marcella nor Octavius have gone about much. It will be their introduction to York’s Polite Society as well as yours. I have met Beaumont and his lady. Meg was right in asking them to sponsor all of you. I will add this required them to leave Town and return north.”

That seemed to be above and beyond what one should be able to expect even of friends. Sextus quickly sifted through all that had been said and unsaid. “I take it that the lady the duke selected is not suitable. And not only does he not read the York newssheets, but unless there was something interesting that would be picked up by the London papers, he will likely not discover I am there.”

Kendal inclined his head. “Correct. From what we were able to discover, the lady is the eldest child of a country squire and is content to remain with her father. The property is not entailed, and she stands to inherit.”

“In addition to that,” Talia said, “she is not particularly well educated beyond the basics.” She raised a brow. “No foreign languages.”

What the devil had the old man been thinking? “What does he expect me to do with a wife like that?”

“I’m not sure he cares,” Kendal drawled. “I am positive there is property that he wants involved.”

Author Biography of Ella Quinn

   USA Today bestselling author Ella Quinn’s studies and other jobs have always been on the serious side. Reading historical romances, especially Regencies, were her escape. Eventually her love of historical novels led her to start writing them.

     She is married to her wonderful husband of almost forty years. They have a son and two beautiful granddaughters, a Great Dane and a cat. After living in the South Pacific, Central America, North Africa, England and Europe, she and her husband decided to make their dreams come true and are now living on a sailboat. They cruised the Caribbean and North America and completed a transatlantic crossing from St. Martin to Southern Europe They will be sailing the Med for the foreseeable future.

Website  ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Blog

One Diamond who seeks an Apothecary? Heavens, no!

Dear Readers, the Earl of Seahaven’s daughters seem determined to raise eyebrows wherever they go, especially the beautiful, but too independent, Lady Josefina Bigglesworth. She may be one of the Seahaven diamonds and certain to turn heads during her season in York, but is this not all the more reason she ought to be careful about running off on her own? Even an innocent daytime excursion to a local apothecary shop in The Shambles may be viewed as too forward.

She has also been seen lately having tea with none other than the Duke of Bourne, York’s most eligible bachelor, and it is said he could not take his eyes off her. Although the Dowager Countess of Seahaven is keeping quiet about it, several reliable sources present at the Castlegate Tea Room assure this Tattler the duke proposed to the lovely Josefina and she has accepted his offer of marriage.

The duke, that handsome devil, is taking Lady Josefina to his seaside estate outside of Whitby to meet his beloved sister. It is rumored she is ill and the doctors seem unable to cure her. Lady Josefina is known as quite the expert in curative plant medicines. Do her plant lore talents have anything to do with his desire to marry her? And will he marry her if she is unable to cure his sister? It would be a shocking scandal if he begged out, ruining the girl and her family. 

Desperate Daughters, Box Set, Bluestocking Belles and Friends

Desperate DaughtersBlurb:

Lady Josefina would much rather spend her time studying plants and their healing properties, but her father, the Earl of Seahaven, has died and left the family impoverished. Marriage seems her only alternative until she meets the handsome Duke of Bourne in an apothecary in York’s ancient Shambles. He offers her an intriguing proposition, a fake betrothal and a king’s ransom as reward if she returns with him to his estate and finds a cure for his sister’s illness. But will the true reward be his heart?

The Earl of Seahaven desperately wanted a son and heir but died leaving nine daughters and a fifth wife. Cruelly turned out by the new earl, they live hand-to-mouth in a small cottage.

The young dowager Countess’s one regret is that she cannot give Seahaven’s dear girls a chance at happiness.

When a cousin offers the use of her townhouse in York during the season, the Countess rallies her stepdaughters. They will pool their resources so that the youngest marriageable daughters might make successful matches, thereby saving them all.

So start their adventures in York, amid a whirl of balls, lectures, and al fresco picnics. Is it possible each of them might find love by the time the York horse races bring the season to a close?

About the Author, Meara Platt:

Meara Platt is an award winning, USA TODAY bestselling author and an Amazon UK All-Star. Her favorite place in all the world is England’s Lake District, which may not come as a surprise since many of her stories are set in that idyllic landscape, including her paranormal romance Dark Gardens series. Learn more about the Dark Gardens and Meara’s lighthearted and humorous Regency romances in her Farthingale series and Book of Love series, or her warmhearted Regency romances in her Braydens series by visiting her website at 

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