Category: Teatime Tattler Page 144 of 157

San Francisco Bay Area

April 1863

Señora Díaz looked down her nose at Aleksandra Arguello, nee Lekarski, holding hands with her new husband, Xavier beneath the lofty trees of the hacienda. She watched as the bridegroom picked a choice morsel of the carne asada from the long planks covered with the succulent roast meat and served it to her with glowing eyes. “Have you heard,” she said, “that these two have travelled all the way from Utah to here, without a duenna?” She wrinkled her nose.

“I heard they were married,” Señora Martínez said, reaching out for another hot, fresh tortilla, and ladling the spicy mole sauce over it, “or thought they were.”

“How could they possibly have thought they were?” She nearly dropped her plate in her excitement, then set it down on the table beside her. “Either one is or one is not!”

lizzie-dos-senoras “A Methodist pastor performed the ceremony in Virginia City, in the absence of a Catholic priest. It is acceptable to our church, but it turns out that is only the case when the bishop has given his approval.”

“And he hadn’t?” Señora Díaz’s eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she turned to glare at the newlyweds.

Her friend’s pursed lips provided the answer.

“Well. Well…” Señora Díaz couldn’t seem to come up with a suitable reply.

“Weren’t you planning on Xavier for your daughter?” Señora Martínez looked at her sideways, her voice hushed behind her fluttering fan.

She glanced at her overblown daughter and pursed her lips. “My husband and Xavier’s deceased stepfather had an agreement.”

“And?”

“Well, it seems the lad ran away from home at fourteen, only to be seen again this year, with this…blonde…” She glanced at the bride, slim and glowing in her exquisite gown of bronze-gold silk taffeta and burgundy brocade, her mantilla floating down her back. She turned her gaze again to her properly dark-haired, Californio daughter, stuffing her face with another palillis, and liberally dusting her wine-colored gown with the fried pastry’s generous sprinkling of powdered sugar. She winced. “Nothing wrong with my daughter,” she whispered, if a bit sharply.

Señora Martínez blinked and imperceptibly shook her head. “They came here from Sacramento during the flood last winter, and they saw the inauguration of Leland Stanford, our Governor. Did you know, he had to go to the Capitol building in a rowboat?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I met them at this rancho earlier in the year, and they told me the story.”

“Ah, so you’ve met them already.” Señora Díaz gulped, her eyes narrowed at her companion. “I had no idea.” She had the grace to look embarrassed.

“Yes, Xavier told me Aleksandra suggested to Mr. Stanford that they jack up the buildings of downtown Sacramento, like they did recently in Chicago.”

Señora Díaz’s brows shot up.

“He also told me,” Señora Martínez positively smirked, “that Aleksandra rode the Pony Express, as a boy!”

This was too much for Señora Díaz.

I’m afraid to report, she fainted dead away at the thought.

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lizzi-a-long-trail This is an original piece and is incidental to A Sea of Green Unfolding.

The Long Trails Quadrilogy of Historical Romantic Suspense novels:

Book One: A Long Trail Rolling

Book Two: The Hills of Gold Unchanging, to be released 15 December, in time for Christmas! It will soon be available for pre-order for $2.99 at online retailers.

Book Three: A Sea of Green Unfolding, to be released soon thereafter

Book Four: A Bold Country Evolving, in research

A Long Trail Rolling

In 1860’s Old West, Aleksandra gets herself into a bit of strife…and the only way she can see out of it is to ride the famed Pony Express…as a boy. Not the best façade, when your boss is as gorgeous and appealing a man as Xavier…and together they somehow must evade the man who has already killed Aleksandra’s father…and has set his sights on her.

**Buy Links for A Long Trail Rolling:**

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Meet Lizzi Tremayne

lizzi-tremayne Lizzi grew up riding wild in the Santa Cruz Mountain redwoods, became an equine veterinarian at UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine, practiced in the California Pony Express and Gold Country before emigrating to New Zealand. When not writing, she’s swinging a rapier or shooting a bow in medieval garb, riding, driving a carriage or playing on her farm, singing, or working as an equine veterinarian or science teacher. She is multiply published and awarded in special interest magazines and veterinary periodicals.

You can learn more about Lizzi’s work on the following social media outlets:

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~ ~ Awards for A Long Trail Rolling ~ ~

RWNZ Pacific Hearts for Best Unpublished Manuscript 2014: 1^st Place

RWNZ Koru Awards for Excellence 2015: Best First Book: 1^st Place & Best Long Novel: 3^rd Place

RWNZ Great Beginnings Contest 2013: Finalist

The Best Indie Book Awards 2015: Finalist

New Zealand Book Awards as a YA 15+: Longlisted

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Excerpt

‘Sguir! Aleksandra, stop!’ Aleksandra heard Scotty bark, and then continue in a low, steady voice. ‘Wouldn’t move, ‘f I was you, Xavier. Her da’s Cossack-trained and it ‘pears she is too.’ Scotty chuckled.

She felt Xavier ease his hold on her, but he didn’t let go, despite the blade at his neck.

‘Now a nighean,’ Scotty admonished her, ‘Xavier’s a charaid, a friend. He’s been watchin’ over ye for the best part of the afternoon.’

She relaxed the death-grip on her shashka, removing its tip from Xavier’s throat. Her gaze met his smooth cocoa eyes fringed by long, black lashes, crinkles of laughter showing at their corners. Aleksandra’s bronze-skinned benefactor had the look of a dark Spanish lord.

‘The vixen has teeth,’ Xavier said with a grin. Aleksandra gave him the ghost of a smile, then frowned at his hands still upon her. White scars crisscrossed his right one, especially his knuckles. He let go of her and stepped back from her side.

‘Well Aleks, feelin’ better after yer little rest?’ Scotty approached cautiously, removing the sword from her shaky grip. ‘How ’bout a drink of water?’ He reached for the filled mug. ‘Ye ready to talk yet?’

She nodded slowly, eyes on Xavier.

‘Where’s yer da, Aleks?’ Scotty’s brow wrinkled, his voice tender

Aleksandra’s heart sank as she struggled to sit up. Reaching for the proffered cup, she drank slowly. The liquid’s coolness soothed her cracked lips and parched throat. Handing the vessel back, she wrapped her arms about herself tightly, chin to chest. When she swayed again, she dimly noticed Xavier moving closer, and was surprised to recognize that she didn’t mind his all-too-familiar closeness.

‘Papa is at rest,’ she said haltingly, so softly they had to move in close, ‘with Mama and my brothers.’

A Woman’s Tears

By Sherry Ewing

On October 28, 2016

In Sherry Ewing, Teatime Tattler

590px-sir_humphry_davy_bt_by_thomas_phillips Lord Nicholas Lacy waited but an instant in his bedroom until he decided it was in his best interests to follow his wife. Juliette had wasted little time making her way down into the foyer. From the top of the stairs, he watched whilst she linked arms with her sister, Genevieve, and their mother and began ushering them to the door with a hasty comment of joining them shortly in their carriage.

She turned back towards the servant and reached for her gloves, practically snapping them into place in her frustration. She must have sensed his presence on the stairway for her head rose, along with one delicate arched brow. She was miffed at him and he deserved it. This was not the first time that business had taken him away from their plans.

Nicholas descended the stairs and held out a hand to the maid who gladly turned his wife’s pelisse over to him. He placed the garment over her shoulders before turning her to face him. She refused to look at him but it took only a gentle touch of his fingers skimming her cheek until she raised her eyes, brimming with unshed tears. They had always been his downfall.

Placing a kiss upon her forehead, he pulled her into his embrace and held her. Her resolve weakened with a heavy sigh as she, too, wrapped her arms around his waist. “Please come with us, Nicholas,” she begged, resting her head upon his chest.

“I will be just two days behind, my dearest. Surely you can enjoy your sister’s and mother’s company until we are reunited? Such a parting will not be that long,” he murmured breathing in the heavenly scent of roses that lingered in her hair. Since the foyer had become empty, with the exception of the two of them, he began nibbling at her neck. If only he were able to reconsider.

juliette-pauline-de-remusat Juliette lifted her head to stare upon him. “You promised…” she whispered, and it tore at his heart to see his beautiful wife so miserable. Rising on the tips of her toes, she kissed him before he could find a way to answer her when all he really wished to do was carry her back upstairs.

He heard her quiet moan and broke off their kiss before he forgot himself. “Juliette…” Her name passed his lips like a soft caress whilst his heart flipped within his chest.

“Je t’aime, Nicholas.” Her soft French accent rushed across his soul causing him to shiver in delight to hear his own name and words of love pour from her delectable mouth like the sweetest of wines.

“And I love you, ma chère,” he responded, pressing another kiss upon her parted lips. He placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and began escorting her towards the door. “You shall have two days of shopping to your heart’s content without me getting in the way. Surely, that will make you happy?”

“Shopping is not what makes me happy, Nicolas, and you know it. I would rather an hour in your company than two days spent purchasing a bunch of things that truly hold no meaning.”

“Do not be cross with me, Juliette. Before you know it, I will be right by your side so you may once more enjoy my sparkling wit and conversation.”

Juliette pulled on his arm to halt their progress before she thrust two fingers towards his face. “Two days, Nicolas, and not a day more, or I will return here to the countryside and retrieve you myself.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Of course, my dear,” he agreed.

They made their way outside whilst their daughter, Blanche, climbed down from the carriage after giving her aunt and grandmother hugs. After Juliette made herself comfortable in the carriage, Nicholas and his daughter wished them all safe travels and waved goodbye. The vision of his wife blowing them a kiss through the window would haunt Nicholas for many years to come. Regret was a terrible thing to have to live with.

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This is an original piece and prequel to A Kiss for Charity, a Regency novella within the Bluestocking Belles upcoming box set, Holly and Hopeful Hearts, to be released November 8, 2016. It is available for pre-order for $2.99 at online retailers. 25% of the proceeds benefit the Belles’ mutual charity the Malala Fund.

Buy Links:

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Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical & time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. Always wanting to write a novel but busy raising her children, she finally took the plunge in 2008 and wrote her first Regency. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, the Beau Monde & the Bluestocking Belles. Sherry is currently working on her next novel and when not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist. You can learn more about Sherry’s work here on her page with the Bluestocking Belles or on the following social media outlets:

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Will the young lady leave London in disgrace—again?

By Guest author

On October 26, 2016

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

It has come to the attention of the ton that the Honorable Miss Sophie Greenwood has returned to London accompanying her cousin Miss Mariah Randolph. I’m sure all our dear readers remember her scandalous departure from London two years ago, but for any newcomer to these pages, her father the Baron Canmore took the 20,000 pound sum he had promised on her marriage and sent it abroad on a venture to the spice islands.

Who marries in their first season, even as accomplished and lovely as this diamond of the first water? But when the ship went down taking her sum with it, the girl’s mother rushed to secure a match before the news reached all of London’s ears that the family is utterly broke. London has not forgotten her attempt, or the ignominious flight that follows.

Lady Sandbourne has the young cousins at her Mayfair home this season and declared she shall have them both married off by the end of season. An admirable sentiment, but Miss Sophie is working on leaving London in disgrace again, as all of Mayfair is discussing her attack on her person outside the homes of the city’s most illustrious residents.

assault

As seen on the streets of Mayfair just yesterday

Anjanette’s cry was the only warning Sophie had before powerful arms closed around her throat. Sophie could do nothing as she watched Anjanette hitting the ground hard. A nasty voice filled her ears. “Tell me where to find Greyfriars and you’ll stay alive.”

The smell of the man was bad enough, something good came from being choked so she couldn’t breathe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me, I’ve seen you wearing your finery. Tell me where to find him.” His hands tightened. “I’ve seen the letter. Tell me where he is.”

Just as she was about to run out of air, Anjanette finally found her tongue and started yelling. Sophie sank to the ground when she could suddenly breathe while the sound of heavy uneven footsteps ran quickly away. Strong hands helped her up as Lady Sandbourne and Mariah came at haste, along with most of the other residents of the street. Their manservants at any rate.

“Get away from her, you blackguard,” Roberts, Lady Sandbourne’s butler, ordered.

Sophie’s voice strained, the words unable to form.

Anjanette spoke instead. “He’s the one that saved her.”

Turning to look at her savior, it was no wonder Roberts was skeptical. The man’s strong jaw was covered in stubble, tanned as few gentlemen are in England making his piercing blue eyes stand out all the more. Sun had bleached his dark hair and she could smell the sea on him. Somehow, she couldn’t pull her eyes away from his.

“Thank you.” Sophie was finally able to whisper.

“You’re sure he isn’t the one?” Lady Sandbourne pressed.

pnp-ladies-in-white-dresses Sophie shook her head forcing the words to come. “The man that attacked me stank. I’m sure you can smell it even now on my clothes. It was not the sea I smelled.”

Her rescuer smiled faintly. “Are you quite well? Nothing was stolen?”

A neighbor’s servant sniffed disdainfully. “Not from her, nothing to take.” The group broke up without orders, she was certain, so they could go report to their ladies how she made a spectacle of herself by being attacked.

Lady Sandbourne slipped in at her side fretting and clucking like a hen as Mariah helped Anjanette. “I can’t believe you were attacked outside my own home. Mayfair is supposed to be above that sort of thing.” She was escorted away from her mystery rescuer before she could find out his name to thank him properly.

“Did you see the one that saved her? He looked as disreputable as the man that attacked her must have,” Mariah announced once the door was closed.

Sophie saved her throat though Mariah’s disdain was unfounded. Sophie would stake the last of her reputation on that fact. A long sea voyage perhaps and he had just docked by the smell he carried. Not yet had time to shave.

“Fearful handsome, though.” Lady Sandbourne commented leaving Mariah to be scandalized, never expecting such a thing from her aunt.

All Sophie could think of in order to forget almost being strangled was the look in the man’s eyes. Even after it was mentioned she had nothing, those eyes kept smiling at her.

A Ruined Season

a-ruined-season Sophie Greenwood went to London to have her season hoping to find a husband. If only they had told her that her father had lost all his money, but gossip spreads quickly around London and already everyone knew Baron Canmore’s scandal.

Now two years later, will Sophie ruin another season? No one seems to want to make staying scandal-free an easy task. Almost everywhere she turns someone is trying to make her the laughing stock. Fleeing London once more seems to be her only option. What hope is there for a life of her own?

To read all the latest gossip about Sophie soon to be ruined season, visit http://www.jennifermuellerbooks.com/rooms/id599gqj18/A-Ruined-Season-England-1814

Meet Jennifer Mueller

As a Peace Corps volunteer in Kenya a few years back I traveled quite a bit and now I just wish I was. A lot of the places I’ve written about I’ve been to, a lot of them I haven’t. Rafting on the Nile in Uganda, living in a Montana ghost town, Puerto Rican beaches, African safaris, Mayan ruins, European youth hostels, forts on the Ghana coast all fill my scrapbooks. I still travel in my head every time I write even if I don’t get out as much as I wish. I currently live in the Pacific Northwest and look forward to filling many more pages.

Men Are So Blind

By Caroline Warfield

On October 22, 2016

In Caroline Warfield, Teatime Tattler

This heavily perfumed missive from Miss Mary Carlton to Lady Elsbeth Willknott has gone astray and finds itself in the Tattler

gerard_ter_borch_d-_j-_001 Cambridgeshire, 1826

My dear Elsbeth,

How I wish you were here for a heart to heart talk. Who else can I confide in? Do tell me you will return soon. Mother refuses to see what is beneath her nose, and father—well, he’s as blind as the rest of the men.

Why are gentlemen unable to see what is obvious to the supposed weaker half of the population? Well, we know why. Where Certain Women are concerned, they do not always make use of their minds. A woman may make herself look delicate and helpless, bat her eyes, and lean on a man’s arm, and men assume she is what she wishes to appear. They do not see the artifice, catch the avid gleam in the eye, or hear the nasty undertone when she speaks with those of her own sex.

emma_hart_later_lady_hamilton_george_romney_rothschild_collection_mfa_boston You and I both know Miss Julia Barrett, the squire’s daughter, for the harpy she is, while the men see only her delicate figure, blond hair, and adoring blue eyes. They do not hear how she mocks them to other women. They do not see her forward behavior. I believe, dear one, that she is no better than she should be.

Julia fluttered, blushed, and swooned into the arms of Mr. Rand Wheatly, oozing sweetness, until that poor lovesick gentleman lost all reason. He has hung on her lisping speech and adoring gaze for weeks, solicitous to each spoken or unspoken need. He praises her as a delicate flower of English womanhood. Behind his back she laughs at his goodness.

The poor fool made the mistake of introducing her to his cousin. True to her nature, she turned her attention to Charles Wheatly who, after all, is a duke, while Rand Wheatly is simply mister. I have watched her keep both on the end of her silken tether, flirting shamelessly with whichever one is in front of her behind the back of whichever is absent.

Today I happened upon Mr. Rand Wheatly in front of the millinery shop. He looked so rapt in thought that I followed his eyes to see what had his attention. Less than a block away Julia Barrett clung to His Grace’s arm, leaning her bosoms against it in a most shocking manner while staring into his eyes. Mr. Rand Wheatly looked as if he had been slapped. Mark my words. She will bring the duke up to scratch and soon.

Neither Mr. Wheatly nor his ducal cousin seems aware of her shamelessly forward behavior when men from the King’s regiment garrisoned nearby attend assemblies. I know for fact she has evaded all chaperonage for assignations with more than one of them. My brother mentioned seeing her near their quarters. Did Ralph express disapproval of that? No! He said he envied the officers.

I long, dear Elsbeth, for tea and a cozy talk. Do come home soon.

Your friend,
Mary

PS
A horrid thought wormed its way into my brain. Isn’t Rand Wheatly’s brother an officer garrisoned nearby? What if Julia has thrown herself at all three of them? She’ll make trouble in that family. Mark my words.

CRITICALTheRenegadeWife Julia does indeed make trouble for the cousins.

The Renegade Wife
Betrayed by his cousin and the woman he loved, reclusive Rand Wheatly flees England, his dreams of a loving family shattered. He clings to his solitude in an isolated cabin in Upper Canada. Returning from a business trip to find a widow and two children squatting in his house, he flies into a rage. He wants her gone, but her children are sick and injured, and his heart is not as hard as he likes to pretend.

Meggy Blair harbors a secret, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her children safe. She’d hopes to hide with her Ojibwa grandmother, if she can find the woman and her people. She doesn’t expect to find shelter with a quiet, solitary man, a man who lowers his defensive walls enough to let Meggy and her children in.

Their idyllic interlude is shattered when Meggy’s brutal husband appears to claim his children. She isn’t a widow, but a wife, a woman who betrayed the man she was supposed to love, just as Rand’s sweetheart betrayed him. He soon discovers why Meggy is on the run, but time is running out. To save them all, Rand must return and face his demons.

Available on Amazon

Caroline Warfield is a Bluestocking Belle. You can learn more about her here or visit her website.

Whispers abound concerning the scarred duke!

By Guest author

On October 19, 2016

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

One simply cannot look away from a bit of gossip as delicious as this! Lady Rose, daughter of the Earl of Wentworth is said to be promised to the 6th Duke of Manchester, otherwise referred to as the scarred duke. While a lady is lucky to find herself stepping into the role of duchess, one has to wonder what it might be like to be thrust into marriage with a man with such obvious deformities.

Even more insidious is that no one knows how he acquired such scars. Troubling indeed! The possibilities are endless but none of them portend to any virtue a woman would want in a husband. Was it brawling, spying, rakish ways that caused his face to be changed? No one has the answer.

While everyone knows that Lady Rose flits from beau to beau, the next more handsome than the last. While the lady does have an intact reputation, it is amazing indeed, or perhaps it is because her father never lets her out of his sight.

We are all wondering how the lady, who every handsome man seems to want, will suffer a marriage to a man who has been as physically altered as the scarred duke.

Taming the Duke’s Wild Rose

Since the death of her mother, Lady Rose Wentworth has dreamed of a hero. A knight or soldier who sweeps her off her feet and heals the scars she hides within. These fantasies cloud her judgement when it comes to a man’s true nature and every suitor she pines for proves to be less than honorable. But Rose is convinced she has finally found a true hero in the soldier, Carl Lundberg.

Fearing for Rose’s future, her father arranges a match with the scarred duke. Powerful and rich beyond reason, Lord Wentworth is convinced this is the man who can provide a real future for his daughter. But Rose knows better, or so she thinks. Now she is caught between two men, one handsome and dashing, the other scarred but intriguing none-the-less. As each vies for her hand, Rose finds it more difficult to discern whose intentions are pure.

The more Rose is entangled in the web of love and marriage the more she questions which man has the true heart and who can unlock hers.

Preorder on Amazon

wild-rose-2

Meet Tammy Andresen

tammyandresen Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of 18, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.