
You will be shocked to hear, dear Readers, that the family of wealthy shipping magnate Mr Franz van Daan has been rocked by the news of his younger son’s scandalous second marriage. The Tattler has been fortunate to obtain copies of the following correspondence from a source close to the family.
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London, September 1810
My Dear Paul
I received your letter yesterday and I admit to being shocked and saddened to hear that you have married again so soon after Rowena’s death. While I know you were not faithful to her and that you married because she was with child, I believed that you had grown genuinely attached to her and I cannot believe you would dishonour her memory by marrying this widow so quickly.
I am further shocked given the rumours I am hearing about Mrs Carlyon from sources who met her in Portugal during her first marriage. It is very clear to me that your affair has been going on for some time and has been much talked of, and there are rumours that you were not her first lover. In fact, I should tell you that her name has been linked with Lord Wellington himself. I hope you have not allied yourself to a fortune hunter.
There is no point in saying more, since it is done. I would not wish to be estranged so I will receive her, but I hope you will not regret such a hasty decision. I have informed the children. Both Grace and Francis are very upset.
Yours, in sorrow,
Franz van Daan
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Pere Negro, Portugal, October 1810
Dear Father
I have little time as I have been ordered to Lisbon during winter quarters on a commission for Lord Wellington and I need to set off early tomorrow.
What the devil you think it has to do with you whom I marry and when is a mystery to me. It is clear you have been listening to gossip from Horse Guards and I thought you knew better. Since I don’t have time for the full story and it’s none of your damned business anyway, I won’t bother to defend my wife’s reputation although if I hear you’ve been sharing your opinions about her publicly I will forget our relationship and your numerous grey hairs and punch you the next time I see you. It is true that I’ve known Nan for several years but there was no affair. She was Rowena’s best friend and is the love of my life. Receive her or don’t, I couldn’t give a damn but if you can’t be civil it’s the last you’ll see of me.
Eventually you will meet her and I suspect you will revise your opinion very quickly; she is extraordinary and you should be thanking her for taking me on, God knows I’m not that much of a catch.
I need to go. Give my love to the children and tell them I miss them and that their new stepmother is longing to meet them. I’ll write properly when I get time.
My love to Josh and Patience, and to you too. I’ve no wish to be at odds with you over this, but you need to remember that I’m past the age of needing your approval.
Yours, in a hurry,
Paul
P.S. I forgot to tell you I’ve been made a colonel and I now command the 110th. My lass will make a very beautiful colonel’s wife. I hope you’re proud.
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An Unconventional Officer (Book 1 of the Peninsular War Saga)
It is 1802, and two new officers arrive at the Leicestershire barracks of the 110th infantry just in time to go to India. Sergeant Michael O’Reilly and Lieutenant Johnny Wheeler have seen officers come and go and are ready to be unimpressed but they have never come across an officer like Lieutenant Paul van Daan.
Arrogant, ambitious and talented, Paul van Daan is a man who inspires loyalty, admiration and hatred in equal measure. His unconventional approach to army life is about to change the 110th into a regiment like no other.
The novel follows Paul’s progress through the ranks of the 110th from the bloody field of Assaye into Portugal and Spain as Sir Arthur Wellesley takes command of the Anglo-Portuguese forces against Napoleon. There are many women in Paul’s life but only two who touch his heart.
Rowena Summers, a shy young governess who brings him peace, stability and lasting affection.
Anne Carlyon, the wife of a fellow officer who changes everything Paul has ever believed about women.
As Europe explodes into war, an unforgettable love story unfolds which changes the lives of everyone it touches.
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Lynn Bryant was born and raised in London’s East End. She studied History at University and had dreams of being a writer from a young age. Since this was clearly not something a working class girl made good could aspire to, she had a variety of careers including a librarian, NHS administrator, relationship counsellor and manager of an art gallery before realising that most of these were just as unlikely as being a writer and took the step of publishing her first book.
She now lives in the Isle of Man and is married to a man who understands technology, which saves her a job, and has two teenage children and two Labradors. History is still a passion, with a particular enthusiasm for the Napoleonic era and the sixteenth century. When not writing she reads anything that’s put in front of her and makes periodic and unsuccessful attempts to keep a tidy house.
Lynn has eight books published on Amazon kindle, five of which are also available in paperback. They include the first four books of the Peninsular War Saga; two books in the Light Division Romances, a series of Regency romances following some of the officers of the Light Division into peacetime; a Victorian romance set in London’s East End and a Marcher Lord which is set on the turbulent Anglo-Scottish border during the sixteenth century.
Lynn’s website and blog are at www.lynnbryant.co.uk and she is also on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/historyfiction1803/ and on Twitter at https://twitter.com/LynnBry29527024

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.
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.
“Yes. I spent time abroad.”
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!
Here is the report you requested. Of late, I’ve been exploring the rumors of gold to be found in the Wyoming territory of the former colonies. While the rumors are true, the location of the gold fields is on lands belonging to the Sioux nation. Relations are hostile between these aborigines and the somewhat more civilized government of the United States of America. In addition, the area of the gold fields, known as the Black Hills, is exceedingly difficult to access. Thus, few white men and fewer white women have traveled through the place. I have determined to do so, myself. Not for greed of gold, but for greed of experience. I have never denied my eagerness to see what is around the next corner, tree, rock, or river bend. Be that as it may, I am currently in the boomtown of Cheyenne seeking a guide of good reputation to shepherd my little party [Yes, despite her megrims, my maid Analisa is still with me, but more of her peccadillos at another time.]
The third man, Mr. W. Hickock is also quite famous. He is very colorful wearing pistols holstered on each hip and having long, locks of hair, which were kept scrupulously clean, unlike Mr. Bridger. I had almost agreed to accept Mr. Hickock’s services despite his exorbitant fees when the most unruly and oddly dressed female I had ever seen burst into the room and drew her pistol, holding me and Mr. Hickock at gunpoint.
This character, one Skinner Jones, I might have rejected instantly. Jones personal hygiene looked and smelled no better than Mr. Bridger’s. However, the educated speech that came from Jones’s mouth roused my interest, so I invited my guest to share tea with me as we discussed the possibility of escort from Cheyenne to the Black Hills.
About the Book
About the Author
Her own eyes scanned the men ’til she found the one her heart continuously sought. Geoffrey… even thinking his name brought a smile to her lips and when he saw that she neared, he gave her that lopsided grin she had come to cherish. He was a cocky one and knew what he did to her with just one look in her direction, the rogue!


Dane Redford Lambourne, now Earl of Huntsbridge, never thought to live a responsible, noble existence. Spending his nights as a privileged gentleman, carousing and enjoying the company of friends was the only life he ever aspired to until the sudden death of his brother thrust him into a world he never wanted and was not prepared to face.
History has always fascinated me. From an early age, I recall asking my grandparents and great-grandparents about their pasts, what it was like in other countries, and found myself enthralled with the old customs they adhered to.