Category: Teatime Tattler Page 1 of 122

A Sight to See! Mr. Ridley in Rome!

On March 14, 2023

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

April 20, 1818

Mrs. Claudian’s boarding house

Rome

“There goes Mr. Ridley. Alone again,” Mrs. Claudian groused as she watched the bustling activity on the street in front of her boarding house.

“Who is he?” Miss Kingston followed the older woman’s gaze. The man in question was possessed of a barrel chest, broad shoulders, a head of dark hair, and as he paused to speak with another man in the street, she stole a peek at his taut backside that was more or less on display in the rather tight tan breeches. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with him.”

The land lady snorted. “Of course you are not. You only just arrived two days ago, and he hasn’t left his rooms. Only does when he is out of brandy. Nasty stuff.” She handed Miss Kingston a cup of tea. “I will be flooded with English transplants soon.”

“There is nothing wrong with wishing to take a holiday of sorts in Rome,” Miss Kingston said, but her gaze didn’t leave Mr. Ridley’s most pleasing form. “Why do you have an interest in him?”

“Why not?” Mrs. Claudian gestured at him with a flourish that only the Italians could master. “He is exquisite, yes? And I am not blind.” Her clucking sounded much like a hen. “He has been here for a few years. Retired from what he calls Bow Street.” She shrugged, and it was eloquent. “And he is unattached.”

“Oh?” Now that was interesting. “Oh!” Miss Kingston turned to the older lady in some excitement. “You wish to play matchmaker to him.” It wasn’t a question. “Is there someone in mind?” She stopped short of preening, for though Mr. Ridley wasn’t a handsome sort, he wasn’t ugly.

“Stop that, young woman.” The Italian woman shook her head. The strands of gray in her black hair sparkled in the Roman sunshine. “You are not his equal.” Her dark gaze seemed to go right through her. “Too mousy. No backbone. No tragic tale. He’ll never notice you.” She shook her head. “Besides, your fiancée will come to retrieve you soon enough. He has chased you all over the Continent already.”

Miss Kingston huffed in annoyance, for she’d assumed she was much more mysterious than that. She had only told the land lady a few things regarding how she’d ended up here. “What makes you think I’ll take him back?”

“You have no vision. He has coin. You will take him back, marry him, and return to England flush with bridal excitement, ready to take up the reins of your unremarkable life.” Mrs. Claudian took a sip of her tea while she watched the strapping Mr. Ridley. “He is a detective.”

“Is that important?” Truly, Miss Kingston didn’t understand. And her cheeks still burned with indignation from the slight.

“I think so. He finds lost things. It is a good skill to have.”

“Yet he is unattached.”

“Yes, and without an income.”

Perhaps he wasn’t as interesting as she thought. Certainly not a catch by English standards. “Then why do you show an interest in such an unremarkable man?”

“He has a cat,” Mrs. Claudian said, as if that made all the difference.

“I do not care for cats.” When Miss Kingston merely stared, the land lady sighed.

“That says more about you than anything else.” Mrs. Claudian harrumphed. “The gods are not done with Mr. Ridley.”

“How can you know that?” Truly, the denizens of Rome were not quite right in their upper stories, for they were forever spouting stories of gods and goddess, of fate and folly, instead of seeing people around them for what they were. Much different than jolly old England. This country was entirely too romantic. Perhaps she would take her errant fiancée back after all.

“Men like Mr. Ridley have a destiny to fulfil.” The older woman continued to sip her tea. When the man in question glanced in their direction, she waved with her free hand. With a scowl, he waved back before continuing on his way. “He will be needed, and soon, for a case that will have everyone in Rome talking.”

“You don’t know that.” Miss Kingston frowned. Perhaps she should go take in the sights before she went back to England.

“I do not, but how can it not be true? He has secrets, that one, and his heart was broken in the past. He only needs one special woman to cross his path to help him heal, to give him back a purpose.” She nodded and drained the contents of her teacup. “It will be soon. I can feel it.”

“I would rather have facts and assurances.” Miss Kingston finished her tea. “And a future without struggle.” Compared to the departing Mr. Ridley, her fiancée didn’t look half bad.

“And that is why your union will be without heat or passion.” A slow smile curved Mrs. Claudian’s lips. “His whole world will be shaken at its foundations before long, and the poor man will fall hard.” She snorted with laughter. “I look forward to his suffering. He deserves a woman who will challenge in him every way.”

Miss Kingston frowned. It was unseemly how meddling Mrs. Claudian was. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll just grab my maid, for I wish to perhaps take in the Forum before night fall.”

“I shall make your fiancée feel welcome if he arrives while you are out.” She winked. “It is something else I know.” She waved her off with a shooing motion. “Go. You scare away potential matchmaking clients with your rigid posture and frowns.”

With a huff, Miss Kingston went back into the unassuming boarding house. Why did she ever think running to Rome was a good idea? There was nothing but sunshine and fanciful attitudes here, much different from England.

Blurb for My Dear Mr. Ridley:

Sometimes, the road to romance is littered with intrigue, harrowing danger, and wild shock.

The year is 1818 and Theodosia Netherton—Lady Ballantyne—is wintering in the sunny climes of Italy in an effort to protect her health as well as to visit her brother. Widowed for three years, she has no interest in a new romance, but when a horrific emergency leads her to the doorstep of a handsome, former Bow Street Runner with wide shoulders and a mysterious scar, she might just change her mind.

Mr. Hudson Ridley is in Rome for the warmth and relative obscurity. Retired at the age of eight and thirty, the last thing he wants is to become embroiled in a kidnapping plot that involves an attractive widow and her missing son. Yet he was the best in the retrieval business in his prime, and she did have hauntingly unforgettable eyes as well as a smile that could make a man do wicked, stupid things.

In the quest to hunt the people who nabbed the boy and heir to a viscounty, Theodosia and Hudson dance about mutual desire until passion gets the better of them one star-lit evening amidst some of the country’s finest ruins. But tracking the criminals turns deadly when shots are fired at them. Time is running out to rescue the young heir, keep a valuable jewel safe, and somehow discover if love is the ultimate reward despite the risk.

Can two fearful hearts feel less broken together? Find out in My Dear Mr. Ridley, the first book in the exciting new Diamonds of London series.

Author Sandra Sookoo

Buy links:

Amz: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B2V529KB

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-dear-mr-ridley-sandra-sookoo/1141586015;jsessionid=3CA5546682E4E157B828E6198ABC41DB.prodny_store02-atgap05?ean=2940166288684

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/my-dear-mr-ridley

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id6442912743

Social media links:

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/sandra.sookoo

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Book Bub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/sandra-sookoo

Website: http://www.sandrasookoo.com

Also, if you want to join my ARC review team on BookSprout, here’s the link: https://booksprout.co/reviewer/team/10540/sandra-sookoos-review-team

Bear in mind, these ARCS go fast, like in a few hours the day I post so make sure you’re signed up for notifications.

A Matchmaker? Or a Matchbreaker?

By Alina Field

On March 11, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

Spring is in the air, and the ladies of the ton have set about managing the affairs of what is so crassly referred to as the Marriage Mart: “Lord X could do with an infusion of, ahem, cash for his hunting box—an heiress would do. Lady Y is looking for nothing less than a marquess.”

Ah, and then we have Miss M. While the leading ladies of the ton whisper about dowries, incomes, and whether a man’s questionable peculiarities render him completely unsuitable, the Tattler has received news of this particular miss making her come-out.

Her dowry is rumored to be staggeringly large and has drawn the interest of no less than an earl, Lord H, a man with an unfortunate, but to some parties, not unqualifying reputation. Miss M’s father, a man of the mercantile class, has accepted his suit. The bride-to-be, we are told, is the compliant sort and will do as she’s told.

Interestingly, the lady bringing Miss M out, a spinster of good enough ton but small fortune is rumored to oppose the match. In fact, she is rumored to have gone daggers with one of the primary instigators of this arrangement, Lord H’s uncle.

Ah, but perhaps I’ve said too much. As to whether Miss M will soon be Lady H, we must wait to see if a bridal announcement is forthcoming.

Liliana’s Letter

The Matchmaker

A promise to his long-dead sister forces Lord Grigsby back into society to broker the marriage of his disreputable nephew to the heiress whose money can save the earldom.

The Matchbreaker

Liliana Ashford has been hired to help an heiress pass muster with the ton and snare a titled husband. Though, if she had a magic wand, she’d turn her charge’s fiancé back into the toad he truly was.

Scandal and a New Match

But she never plotted murder! As the young Earl’s sordid death evokes the scandal of the season, a shadow from Liliana’s own past appears, threatening her carefully crafted world. Grigsby sets about finding his nephew’s killer…and Liliana’s secrets. Meanwhile she scrambles to make a new match for the girl, because finding a husband of her own is out of the question—or is it?

Excerpt

The woman at Grigsby’s side was like a lightning rod expecting a bolt to strike, or like a Fury about to deliver one. This close, scent wafted from her, roses and lemon, he’d guess. Tall, straight, and stiff, underneath her self-possession was a temper ready to unleash. He would bet on it.

Intriguing. He dared to poke her ire. “You clearly don’t approve of the match. Do you intend to openly oppose it?”

Her head whipped around, and she glared. “It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. Katie—Miss Mercer—will decide.”

Passion flashed in her eyes, sending an answering spark through him. She was magnificent—though so very mistaken. “Really? Then her father is more liberal than I expected.”

She looked him over more closely. “What do you know of this matter?”

I might ask you the same question. Her tone had been stiff, like the crystallized dome covering bubbling lava. He fixed her with his sternest glare, not entirely surprised at her cheek.

His glower didn’t impress her. She lifted her shoulders higher. Stood a little taller, proud, lovely, and filled with indignation.

Quite righteous indignation. He gave into an unmanly sigh, truly weary of his responsibility for Thomas. “I know a good deal, Miss Ashford. I have been negotiating for these nuptials. The arrangement is my doing as much as Mr. Mercer’s. Much more than it is my nephew’s. He is probably the least culpable, except for his abominable behavior.”

She clenched her hands tightly. “I see.”

“Thomas’s mother was my older sister. I made a promise to her that I would look after him.” Her gaze softened, and she bit her lip in a way that made him want to taste the part that she was nipping.

And where had that thought come from?

“And your nephew needs money and an heir.”

He nodded. As a woman of the ton, of course she would understand how marriage worked. Marriage wasn’t about love, or the bride’s approval, or a plump lower lip that begged to be kissed.

“He needs money most of all. He has a younger brother in the army who would make a far more dutiful earl.”

He covered his mouth with his hand. The words had rolled out, shocking him. He rarely spoke this frankly with any woman.

Very well, he never spoke this frankly with any woman.

She released a soft breath. “And there is the matter of the ore.”

His mouth gaped and he quickly closed it. Mr. Mercer had shared that information? Well. “That part of the county is rich with newly discovered veins of iron.”

That information brought her up straighter. She looked away, gazing intently at a thick, dark spot of foliage, making him want to pry into that sharp mind.

“I see,” she said. “I believe we should go back in now.”

Not yet. He tucked her hand over his arm but did not move. “I had hoped we were not finished talking. I’ve learned your Christian name is Liliana, but I don’t know anything else about you. I don’t know where you’re from or anything about your family.”

He sensed her bristling, and waited for some reaction, perhaps a slap, verbal, or, with a woman of her passion, even a physical one. Strictly speaking, he was importuning her, and damn if he wasn’t enjoying the nerves rippling through her.

99 cents for a limited time

Buy links

Amazon: http://amzn.to/1VBXAld

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/liliana-s-letter

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/lilianas-letter/id1046400564?mt=11

Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Alina_K_Field_Liliana_s_Letter?id=eC4iDAAAQBAJ

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lilianas-letter-alina-k-field/1122799716?ean=2940151188487

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling and award-winning author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Though her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California and hasn’t looked back. She shares a midcentury home with two spunky rescues, a blonde terrier and a people-loving chihuahua.

She is the author of several Regency romances, including the 2014 Book Buyer’s Best winner, Rosalyn’s Ring. She is hard at work on her next series of Regency romances but loves to hear from readers!

Visit her at:

https://alinakfield.com/

https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield

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Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY

Lord P married! Wife accepts depraved lifestyle?

By Cerise DeLand

On March 8, 2023

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

Readers, the Teatime Tattler has an update for you on the shocking news out of Peterborough in the north. If you recall, the Earl of Peterborough died suddenly this winter, with no heir (despite seven years of marriage, Lady C had not done her duty by him yet!), leaving his younger brother to assume the title. What does this mean for the once respectable earldom? Not only does Mr. M, now Lord P, breed horses as a trade, he is rumored to be a member of a certain spanking club!

The new Lord P had appeared determined to avoid marriage and spent as much time at that nefarious club as he did at White’s. His best friend, Lord S, had also been a member until his marriage – a love match – to the beautiful and decorous Lady R two years ago. More recently, a lovely young lady joined his household as Lord S’s ward, who we hear is a cousin from the north. Shockingly, she was seen riding with Lord P several mornings. He has also provided escort to several balls, along with Lord S and Lady R.

We of course could not imagine a lady of any breeding accepting the hand of such a man. But news has it that just this week, the lovely ward of Lord S’s wed Lord P! Does she know of his predilections? Or will she force Lord P to abandon his membership in the naughty club on Charlotte Street?

SOPHIA’S SCHOOLING, SCHOOL OF ENLIGHTENMENT BOOK 1

An innocent country girl…a jaded earl…an education in pleasure.

Orphaned at eighteen, Sophia has learned love means loss. Now she must leave her country home to navigate the opulence of the London Season, although she has no desire for romance or a husband.

Edward, the newest Earl of Peterborough, is struggling with the business of his family estate. He has shunned marriage due to a shameful secret, but with his title comes the need for heirs.

Despite their misgivings, Sophia and Edward cannot resist their attraction. When she accidentally discovers his penchant for spankings, her curiosity is her undoing. A clandestine meeting risks a scandal. Only marriage to a reluctant bridegroom can save her reputation. But perhaps the School of Enlightenment can give her an education in love.

Universal buy link: https://books2read.com/u/mY680V

Excerpt:

Edward gave a mental snort. “You continue to disobey orders.”

Sophia groaned in frustration, probably suspecting where his statement was leading. “I’m very sorry.” She sucked in a breath. “I shan’t do it again. As I came out alone, I thought it would be safe.” She sent him a sidelong glance. “Is this a punishable offense, my lord?”

Perfect. She knew she was wrong. She saw what was coming. Her side-eyed glance told him she mayhap even invited it. Who was he to refuse a girl a spanking?

He took a deep breath, wishing… No. She’s not mine to covet. But she is mine to punish tonight.

His eyes shuttered as he considered. Was he taking advantage of her naiveté about Ton rules? He knew she’d enjoyed the last punishment and could not deny either of their desires. He almost heard the turn of the key as his conscience was again locked away.

He pushed, “We have been over this, Sophia. Punishment is an important learning tool. Hopefully, it shall be an incentive for you to obey specific directions in the future.”

Frustrated, she crossed her gloved arms. “Darn it. My feet hurt so much. I did not anticipate my bottom becoming sore, too. I shan’t be able to sit or stand comfortably.”

That wasn’t a no.

Author bio:

Maggie Sims began her love affair with romance before her teen years, drawn to the Regency by her mum’s British influence. In her twenties, she did her best to live the Carrie Bradshaw life in New York City, albeit with less expensive shoes and more books.

Despite reading hundreds of romance novels in her life, she was still blown away when she met the love of her life, an ex-Marine cinnamon roll with creative woodworking and culinary skills.

Having retired from corporate life, they live in Central Texas and are parents to a varying number of dogs and cats. When not writing, Maggie is a wine enthusiast, a travel junkie, and a romance reading fiend. She also sporadically crochets for KnotsofLove.org and does just enough exercise for that second glass of wine at night.

To find out more about Maggie’s latest reads, favorite wines, and travel destinations – and to get the free prequel novella featuring Lord S and Lady R – sign up for her newsletter at https://tinyurl.com/5enevd7w and follow her on social media.

https://maggiesims.com/

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A young lady nursing wounded acts improperly? NO!

By Cerise DeLand

On March 1, 2023

In gossip, Guest author, Historical Period, Teatime Tattler

Greetings Dear Reader.

This bit of hearsay comes by way of a letter sent me by my cousin across the pond in America. As you may already know, that country of upstarts is once
again engaged in a war, not with Britain thankfully, but now amongst themselves.

They are apparently divided over an issue Parliament abolished here nearly thirty years ago. However you do not come to this column for news of politics and world concerns, but rather for news of a more personal nature.

This propensity for squabbling has evidently filtered down even to the men and women on the same side of this rebellion and involves two people working in hospital who should be united, fighting together to save the lives of those soldiers wounded on the battlefields.

My cousin, recovering from illness at Armory Square Hospital in Washington, D.C., witnessed first-hand the impropriety of one nurse Gracie McBride, behavior from whom one might expect of the Irish, and who on one occasion tackled an orderly to the floor and literally sat upon the man while she ripped the very shirt off his back. She even had the audacity to sneak into the kitchen and steal food, an act which brought her serious reprimand from the hospital chief surgeon.

Undaunted, she continued her unlady-like behaviors, standing toe-to-toe with and arguing with the ward surgeon, Doctor Charles Ellard. Apparently the two mix like oil and vinegar, acting out their rows in the middle of the ward for all to witness, as if they were players upon the stage.

Although, as my cousin reports, many patients find such indecorous conduct to be entertaining, causing much laughter, hence breaking the clouds of depression and sadness which normally hang over the ward.

On one occasion, a rumor circulated that the good Doctor Ellard, after ignoring the advice of a more experienced physician, performed an operation not only incorrectly, but while drunk. Shortly thereafter Doctor Ellard was sent back to the fighting. Since the patient would have died if not for the skill of Doctor Ellard, my cousin and others have speculated if the accusations against him, might not have been made by this other physician out of jealousy and spite.

Though nurse McBride remained as cheerful and industrious as before, the atmosphere in the ward has returned to its previous quiet gloom.

Now nurse McBride has also left the hospital. Rumor supposes her departure occurred upon receipt of a mysterious package, although she has purportedly gone to deliver supplies to the battlefield with the Sanitary Commission. Many wonder, which is it?

The ward is once again rife with speculation. Will Gracie McBride and Charles Ellard meet on the battlefield? Was it hate or love which caused the friction between them? Will my dear cousin and his fellow soldiers see them again in order to learn what happened? Let us hope that somehow love will prevail and Gracie McBride and Doctor Ellard will live happily for ever after.

Dear readers, I hope to hear soon from my cousin, for the only way to satisfy my own curiosity will be through further reading of their tale.

I wish you well.

Blurb:

Gracie McBride isn’t looking for love; she’s looking for respect. But in this man’s world of Civil War medicine, Gracie is expected to maintain her place changing beds and writing letters. Her biggest nemesis is the ward surgeon, Doctor Charles Ellard, who seems determined to woo her with arrogant kisses and terrible jokes.

Charles is an excellent surgeon. He assumed he would be well received by an army at war. He was not. Friendless and alone, he struggles to hide the panic attacks that plague him while the only person who understands him is a feisty Irish nurse clearly resolved to keep him at a distance.

But Charles is sent to the battlefield, and Gracie is left with a wounded soldier, a box of toys, and a mystery which can only be solved by the one man she wishes could love her, both as a woman and a nurse.

Excerpt

“Would ye have me go home to shop for bonnets and gossip with me morning guests, ignorin’ that ten-year-old boys are being shot on battlefields? Do ye want me to stay unchanged, so that when I go home I can pretend none o’ this ever happened?”

“No. I want you to go home before the death of that ten-year-old boy becomes so ordinary, that one day you wake up and realize your womanly softness has grown so hard you no longer have the ability to feel.”

She squared her shoulders and stepped toward him. “Me own husband was a doctor, sir. I’ve birthed babies and stitched wounds. I stood by William’s side during surgeries and passed him instruments. I helped him clean the intestines of a man gored by a bull, before putting it all back inside that man’s belly. Me delicate sensibilities did not send me into a swoon then nor will they here. I thank ye for yer concern, Doctor Ellard, but ‘tis who I am. And by the saints, as long as I have breath in me body, I will feel, and I will care.”

Their gazes locked in that moment, and something flickered in his icy depths, overshadowing his usual cynicism with what she suspected might be admiration. The harsh lines of his face softened.

“Saint Jude must indeed be watching over you, Mrs. McBride.”

“That he is, Doctor Ellard, that he is.”

He gave her a brisk nod and opened the door. “You’re not going home then, are you?”

She turned. “Ye know us Irish, Doctor Ellard, we don’t know what we want, but we’ll fight to the death to get it.”

Bio of Author, Kathy Otten

Kathy is the published author of multiple historical romance novels and short stories. Her Civil War romance novel A Place in Your Heart was a 2016 RWA Northwest Houston Chapter, Lone Star Winner and her western novel Lost Hearts, was a 2008 Utah/Salt Lake RWA Hearts of the West finalist.

Kathy has been writing and making up stories as long as she can remember. Her first short story, Redemption of a Cavalier was published in 2006 and she has moving forward ever since.

Her young adult novel, The Solace of Denim is scheduled for release this summer.

Recently Kathy became a certified book coach and now helps clients bring their writing vision to life.

She also teaches classes on writing craft both on-line and in person at workshops and conferences.

When she’s not writing, she enjoys walking her German shepherd through the woods and fields near her home or curling up with a good book and her cat.

www.facebook.com/kathyottenauthor

www.twitter.com/kathyotten

Web Site: www.kathyotten.com

Contact: kathy@kathyotten.com

SCANDAL OF THE YEAR… WILL IT END WITH A SILKEN ROPE?

By Cerise DeLand

On February 22, 2023

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

Sir Pinkerton Jones-Worthy, who always knows the latest gossip, was kind enough to give the Tattler an interview about the latest—and possibly the greatest—scandal in the ton.

Did Lord Derwent, heir to the Earl of Medway, murder his close friend, Lord Worsten? Lord Worsten’s body, shockingly stabbed several times, was found in a ditch on the Great North Road the day after Lord Worsten abducted Lord Derwent’s mistress―or did he?

“Everyone thinks so,” Sir Pinkerton said, “but my dear friend, Lady Rosamund Phipps, tells another story.”

“Lord Derwent is her brother, so surely she should know,” I ventured.

“One would assume so, but one would also expect her to protect her brother to the best of her poor ability,” Sir Pinkerton said with a sigh. “She claims Derwent left town with his mistress, and that the abduction story is pure fabrication. However…”

“Yes?” I prompted him eagerly.

“Lords Derwent and Worsten quarreled publicly the other day―in White’s, of all places―and Worsten swore to steal Derwent’s mistress.”

“Ah!” I said, “Rivals in love. Or perhaps only lust, but gentlemen have been known to duel over such foolishness.”

“Alas,” Sir Pinkerton said, “if it were only a duel, which is an honorable way to settle a dispute. Unfortunately, there is nothing more dishonorable than murder.”

“Especially such a vicious sort of murder. Stabbing! Leaving the corpse in a ditch, prey to scavengers and vermin.” I shuddered. “How frightfully barbaric.”

“Indeed, but the Bow Street Runners are in pursuit, and when they apprehend Derwent, he will be tried swiftly—and hanged.” He paused. “With a silken rope.”

“Isn’t that only for peers?” I mused. “He’s not a peer yet, merely the heir to one.” I wrinkled my nose. “Not that the sort of rope would be much comfort when one is about to die.”

Sir Pinkerton tittered. “I fancy not.”

“Poor Lady Rosamund must be distraught,” I said. “She suffered much in the spring from rumors about her fragile state of mind.”

Sir Pinkerton puffed out his narrow chest. “Lady Rosamund needs a man to take care of her.”

Perhaps. She does have a sizeable fortune.

“What about the latest print by Corvus?” I asked. “It suggests that many so-called gentlemen are bandying her name about and vying for her hand in a horribly louche sort of way. The print implies that you, dear Sir Pinkerton, are one of those very gentlemen.”

Sir Pinkerton bristled with affront. “How dare that rascally caricaturist insult me? I am nothing like those rakes. I adore Lady Rosamund. I care deeply for her.”

Hmm. We shall leave it to our readers to judge his motives.

“A little bird told me Lady Rosamund has just left town, heading up the Great North Road,” I said. “Maybe she knows where her brother has gone and means to warn him, so he can escape to the Continent.”

“She went after him?” Sir Pinkerton huffed. “In that case, I must leave town forthwith.”

He hastened away. I hope I am not the cause of more trouble for Lady Rosamund. The last thing she needs, if she indeed goes to save her brother, is Sir Pinkerton getting in the way. We at the Tattler wish her luck―and fervently hope that Lord Derwent will escape the silken rope.

***

Lady Rosamund visits the bookshop with Miss Concord (her brother’s mistress, whom she rescued from an abductor) and is accosted by two gentlemen who show signs of planning to woo her. Rosamund is aghast at the notion of remarrying—particularly not one of these men. Miss Concord has a better suggestion.

“If I were you, I would choose that lovely Mr. McBrae,” Miss Concord said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s head over ears for you,” she said. “Surely you’re aware of that!”

I managed a shrug. “I know he finds me attractive, but he doesn’t intend marriage.” Thank heavens, for that would make our situation even more awkward. It’s bad enough that he disapproves of me and lets me know, and worse that he wants to make me his mistress. Not that he has asked me in so many words, but his actions have made it clear.

“No? Why not?” she asked.

“Because—because, well, it’s preposterous,” I said. “He’s an impecunious Scotsman, and I’m the daughter of the Earl of Medway.”

“So what? He’s a gentleman and you are a lady.” She stuck out her chin. “If you’re in love with each other, why shouldn’t you marry?”

“We aren’t in love,” I retorted, stopping myself just in time from spouting some nonsense about love matches being only for the underbred. Despite my best efforts, my mother’s dictums tend to surge to my lips, especially in moments of disquiet.

The thought of intimacy with McBrae made me uneasy. Actually, the thought of intimacy with any man did—but admittedly, far less so with McBrae than with any other gentleman of my acquaintance.

I liked him, and he lusted after me. And to be fair, he seemed to have a certain amount of respect for my intelligence. To be fair again, he had taught me a certain amount about matters of which I had no previous experience, and he had also saved my life.

But none of this had anything to do with love.

“Perhaps not yet,” she began, then quailed slightly at my frown.

“I don’t plan to marry again,” I pronounced.

She looked as if she wanted to ask why, but stopped herself, no doubt for fear of offending me. Good, for I had no intention of explaining myself.

It was a good thing McBrae didn’t want to wed me. I couldn’t possibly marry anyone, even if I wanted to. I would carry the reason for that to my grave.

***

LADY ROSAMUND AND THE PLAGUE OF SUITORS, Blurb

Lady Rosamund’s plan for a quiet return to London society goes awry when she rescues a woman fleeing along the road—the mistress of her brother, Lord Derwent. Rosamund takes her in, meaning to sort matters out with Derwent—but he has left town in a hurry, and soon the Bow Street Runners are after him for murder. If that wasn’t trouble enough, several suitors are vying for Lady Rosamund’s hand.

Luckily, Gilroy McBrae is in London to help Rosamund save her brother. Will their strained relationship, along with his rivals for her heart, impede the race to unmask the real murderer before Derwent is caught and hanged?

Bio:

USA Today bestselling author Barbara Monajem wrote her first story at eight years old about apple tree gnomes. After publishing a middle-grade fantasy, she settled on historical mysteries and romances with intrepid heroines and long-suffering heroes (or vice versa). Sometimes there’s bit of fantasy mixed in, because she wants to avoid reality as much as possible.

Barbara used to have two items on her bucket list: to make asparagus pudding and to succeed at knitting socks. She managed the first (don’t ask) but doubts she’ll ever accomplish the second. This is not a bid for immortality but merely the dismal truth. She lives near Atlanta with an ever-shifting population of relatives, friends, and feline strays. Learn more at www.BarbaraMonajem.com.

Social media links:

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