Category: Teatime Tattler Page 26 of 154

Who Owns the Recipe?

On September 2, 2023

Mr. Clemens,

You probably know we’re used to toffs and nobs at The Willow and the Rose, the best inn on the Nottingham Road. Mr. Benson, the one that runs the place, always teaches his folk to treat every customer like he were a duke. That way I figure we won’t accidently insult one who comes all disguised or what not. Last week we had a real one. He came in plain sort of clothes, but he were a duke all right. I know because I remember him from before, but I won’t say his name. I call him His Nibs, but trust me, he’s the real thing.

The Willow and the Rose

His Nibs came looking for his stepmother, foolish man. She were in Lunnon as always. He must have forgot. The earl were gone too, what with Pariament going on. Things were quiet in Ashmead. So His Nibs sits for two days in the snug in the corner by hisself drinking Mr. Benson’s ale.

Mr. B, he watches him close. Asked if it would help to talk. His Nibs sez no, there’s nothing to can be done about his problems. Sez his brother is alive and that’s that. I don’t know what that made him look like his favorite dog died, but it did.

After a couple of days Annie Morris, our cook, sez we should try something different “Before the poor lad drowns himself in all that ale.” She sends me out with strong coffee and some of her special buns. He looks at me and frowns, but he takes them anyway.

Here’s the thing. Ten minutes later the lord is on his feet and bursting right into the kitchen. “Who made these?” he wants to know. He sez they’re the best buns he’s had since Lunnon. “Where did you learn to make these?” he asks while wolfing down another one.

Well, I’m thinking that brought him back to life. Annie’s buns are good but I dint think they were that good. But then he asks her again about where she got her recipe, and our Annie turns bright red. She looks down at her dough and sez her aunt taught her. When she tries to shoo him away, he asks for a plate, and she gives him one piled high.

Now the Willow and the Rose is famous for two things: its ale and Annie’s buns. She looks determined not to tell His Nibs her secrets, lest he try to steal them. “Who is this aunt of yours?” I ask. “I thought you grew up in Ashmead.”

“Spent time with my aunt, didn’t I?” she snaps at me.

“In Lunnon?” I ask.

She orders me off and mutters something under her breath. I am sure I heard “Chelsea.” I don’t know for sure, Mr. Clemens, but I think our Annie stole her recipe from the Chelsea Bun House. Wouldn’t your readers want to know?

Sincerely,

Miss Gertie Potts, server at The Willow and the Rose

The Recipe

A favorite of characters in Caroline Warfield’s Ashmead Heirs Series, the buns were indeed a famous treat from the Chelsea Bun House. Chelsea, once a town, was being absorbed into London at about that time. The Bun House made a current bun very similar to modern Cinnamon buns, but smaller, tighter, and seasoned with nutmeg. You can find Caroline’s modern attempt at regency style current buns in Dragonblade’s Historical Recipe Cookbook, full of recipes from some of your favorite Historical Romance Authors.

The pre-order price is 99 cents. https://www.amazon.com/Dragonblades-Historical-Recipe-Cookbook-favorite-ebook/dp/B0C7DT5HHM

The Duke

When the Duke of Glenmoor finds his long-lost older brother alive he is over joyed. When he discovers that brother may be legitimate and not a bastard after all, he is confused. Does that leave him a Duke in Name Only?

Knowing his title was bestowed on him fraudulently, he embarks on a journey to the wilds of North America in an effort to succeed on his own. It doesn’t go well. He has no idea what a fish out of water he will be, but he is determined to make something of himself. He’s a man of worth—but he needs to learn that for himself, and misfortune is the best teacher. Misfortune, and Nan Archer who grew up in that world and knows better than most how to stand on her own two feet.

Available for Free with Kindle Unlimited or to purchase:

Do Not Listen to Busy-Bodies

By Alina K. Field

On August 26, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Mr. Clemens,

As a faithful reader of your publication, I must say, I’ve never heard such awful drivel in my life as what’s come out of Eunice Fillmore’s pen! Why, her comments about the gentlemen and ladies visiting Reabridge for the harvest season are dreadful calumny. The French ladies she complained about are as proper as any Englishwoman and a good deal more refined than Eunice. Why one of them is a titled lady–an English lord’s widow. Another has taken it upon herself to tend to an orphaned child until the vicar can work out a home for the babe.

And the French girl who Eunice says appeared out of nowhere? What poppycock that is, for I myself remember her as a tiny young girl–another orphan–residing with one of our most prominent families as their ward.

Send a reporter, if you will. I’m sure he’ll be able to warm the hearts of your readers with a story about the town’s efforts to restore a frightened young babe to his family. Otherwise, you’ll not find anything more than a group of happy villagers celebrating both the return of their loved ones from war and a very fine harvest.

Yours sincerely,

A lady of much better standing in Reabridge than Miss Eunice Fillmore!

About the Book: Under the Harvest Moon

As the village of Reabridge in Cheshire prepares for the first Harvest Festival following Waterloo, families are overjoyed to welcome back their loved ones from the war.

But excitement quickly turns to mystery when mere weeks before the festival, an orphaned child turns up in the town—a toddler born near Toulouse to an English mother who left clues that tie her to Reabridge.

With two prominent families feuding for generations and the central event of the Harvest Moon festival looming, tensions rise, and secrets begin to surface.

Nine award winning and bestselling authors have combined their talents to create this engaging and enchanting collection of interrelated tales. Under the Harvest Moon promises an unforgettable read for fans of Regency romance.

Story blurbs here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/under-the-harvest-moon/

Preorder now: https://books2read.com/UnderHarvestMoon

Includes Under the Champagne Moon, by Alina K. Field

Orphaned as a child by the French Revolution, Fleur Hardouin’s road has not been easy. Homeless again, she seeks an advantageous marriage as a matter of security. But when she crosses paths with a handsome young captain who, years ago, came to her rescue, she must choose between her heart’s desire and practicality.

Saved from French troops by a French vintner, Gareth Ardleigh promised to find his rescuer’s granddaughter, Fleur, for a marriage that will unite two branches of the family business. But when he finds her, he must choose between honoring a promise or pursuing the woman he loves.

Release Day October 10, 2023

Evidence of an Ancient Fued between the Scots

By Rue Allyn

On August 23, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

Today we bring you evidence, written in the hand of Lady Aileana MacDonald, that all was not always well between clans MacLeod and MacDonald. This report, found in an old trunk provides a fascinating look into the past of Scotland.

My sister-in-law, Lady Brighde, has fallen in love with our clan’s gravest enemy, Tormund MacLeod, the Demon of the Seas! A secret she has begged me to keep, for her brother who is my husband, Jamie, would never approve. I just caught them nuzzling each other, except… Tormund wasn’t the monster We’ve always thought, but gentle. They were teasing each other secretively, laughing. The fearsome demon can laugh? Can smile?

Now Tormund has stripped his tunic and is lumbering onto the field to compete in the corn cutting, joining Jamie and the other lairds, and sakes, it seems as if the royal seneschal has…paired the two together? Every year enemies are paired to clear the barley fields, in attempts to force them to work together and broker truces betwixt them—for the winners split the harvest to take home to their people. But have there ever been greater enemies than Tormund, the Demon of the Seas and Jamie, the Devil MacDonald? The blood feud betwixt them spans generations!

Yet I can see the verra stars of heaven blooming in Brighde’s bonny blue eyes as she watches him and he, her, like a hawk tracking its quarry. And Brighde seems so…happy. Of course, she’s always happy. But oft I fear her smile is a mask that hides deeper wounds. Yet as Tormund, all muscle, dark braid woven down the crest of his shaved head, and his body adorned with tattoos, casts his battle-hardened glances at her I realize I see…fondness returned. Tenderness? From a demon?

Sakes, she even wears his talon necklace about her throat. She is too far smitten and I fear, so is he—

Nay, what is this!

Jamie is confronting Tormund! They’re…arguing! Goodness, knives are unsheathing! Brighde is fretting beside me, twisting her necklace about her finger, for it’s clear Jamie is antagonizing Tormund and Tormund isn’t one to back down from a challenge. Our clansmen have charged the field! As are Tormund’s men! A sea of red tartans and yellow kilts snapping together like the jagged jaws of a dragon—

Wait, Brighde! “Where are ye going!” She didna’ hear me! She’s crying out for them to stop but if she’s caught in the melee, oh, I cannae bear to think, for the men have drawn weapons and she’s…wait, Tormund is…shouting at his men to back down! Racing down the field for Brighde who is beseeching them to stop and he has scooped her into his arms and carried her from the fray. He cares more about her safety than about his fight with her brother!

Oh, he has protected her! There’s no denying the love and worry contorting his visage. Silence has fallen. The menfolk have stopped. Except now Jamie knows the truth about his sister’s secret tryst, too. How can one ignore what we have all just witnessed? Both men love Brighde dearly, I can tell. Perhaps a peace between these two headstrong men is possible…if their love for her is stronger than their feud?

About Highland Rogue to Ruin: Known as the “Demon of the Seas,” Tormund MacLeod only wants vengeance for his brother’s murder. At this year’s Lughnasadh festival, the vicious and unyielding Laird of the powerful MacDonald clan will know the bite of his sword. But the festival offers many distractions—including a fair and bonny masked vixen whose touch disarms Tormund, body and soul. And och, like the cursed MacLeod he is, he wants what he shouldn’t have…

Lady Brighde MacDonald might understand her brother’s overprotectiveness—but she doesn’t have to like it. What she needs is the reckless freedom in the arms of an imposing, rough, and sweet-talking Highlander. Only too late, they both recognize that they’re enemies. She’s the sister of the man Tormund wants dead. And he is the brutish blackguard of the clans…

Now their tryst could mean war. Brighde would see a truce, but it means she must convince her brother and the man she loves to lay down their swords. But Tormund hides a long-buried secret that could destroy both clans.

Available Now: Amazon B&N Kobo Apple Amazon AU Amazon CA Amazon U.K.

About E. Elizabeth Watson: Elizabeth is an Amazon Top 100 and #1 Barnes and Noble Ebook bestselling author. She is convinced life is better with good coffee, chocolate, and a pair of hiking boots. Ever since her elementary school librarian “published” her epic childhood tales–complete with laminated handmade covers–she’s enjoyed exploring the world through literature.

While studying prehistoric Britain at Newcastle University, Elizabeth found story inspiration in the tumultuous history of the British Isles and the folklore of Scotland. As an undergrad at the University of Texas at Austin, her rock art research drew her to the harsh Texas desert where she imagined charismatic cowboys and the stubborn women who tame them.

An archaeologist and biomed research coordinator, Elizabeth spends her days penning heroes ranging from Scottish and Medieval warriors to Texas cowboys crowned with Stetsons. Whether in kilts or pearl-snaps, her heroes wear plaid! She currently lives on a mountainside in West Virginia with her husband, sons, and various pets.

Always honored to hear from readers, make sure to follow her on:

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Goodreads – E. Elizabeth Watson

No Proper Lady

By Rue Allyn

On August 16, 2023

In Teatime Tattler

No proper lady goes in search of scandalous on dits. When those on dits land on one’s own doorstep what is a lady to do? Why, share them, of course!

Whilst not in possession of the details, that certainly won’t stop me from telling all I have observed from a few casual hours watching my neighbors. Having a footman to open the windows just enough to allow the breeze and the conversation to flow into each room is most efficacious.

There is increased activity at the St. James Square home of Lady Camilla Bowles Attington Carrington Whitby. (How pretentious is she to have buried three wealthy husbands? Any lady of good breeding would have stopped at two and left at least one of them to the rest of us.) Her nephew, Lionel Carrington-Bowles, has had a scandalous reputation for years, he and those friends of his. Captain Atherton, who paints those naughty portraits. The barrister, Mr. Forsythe, who has had as many lovers as he has won cases before the King’s Bench. That frightening Bow Street Runner, Archer Colwyn. I cannot begin to tell you what I have heard about his bedchamber adventures!

Speaking of bedchambers, I have it on excellent authority (my own, of course) these four have done something which may create a ripple of scandal throughout London. This impending disaster includes the sinful bookshop run by the Duke of Chelmsford’s brother, a lost journal that names names, the search for said journal, and most frightening, the proprietor of Goodrum’s House of Pleasure!

The pirate queen, Captain El, has been in and out of Lady Camilla’s townhouse in the night (thank goodness for gas lighting on St. James Square.) Lady Honoria Eveleigh was seen with Captain Atherton, alone! Mr. Forsythe called upon Lord Trevellyn’s mysterious widow not during calling hours. Broad sheets are full of horrific murders that have something to do with chess masters and blood rituals, and Mr. Colwyn of Bow Street has been seen challenging the masked chess mistress in residence at, of all places, Goodrum’s.

What does this have to do with a missing journal? From the desperate measures these four scoundrels have taken? Everything! London is rife with rumors of kidnappings, London’s foremost barristers in a remote village up to heaven knows what, brawls at the Earl of Livingston’s exclusive club on Bruton Street. (So I have heard. I have no idea if such a place even exists.) Reports of gunfire at the home of Mrs. Julia Amherst, a widow of unimpeachable morals. Much of this activity takes place under cover of night and even with the gas lighting the view from my windows doesn’t allow me to see everything. More’s the pity.

One hopes these young men will find said journal soon. These chess murders are unsettling. Murder isn’t the done thing in our part of London. So undignified. Such a mess for the servants to clean up. All over some lost journal and the bedchamber antics of four of the most notorious…

Captain Atherton and Mr. Forsythe have just come out of Lady Camilla’s. Do open the window, John. I cannot hear a word they are saying.

More to follow, dear friends!

Lady Gladys Kravitz

About Claiming the Chess Mistress: By night, she’s a masked chess mistress who challenges and trounces all takers; by day, she’s the ethereal white-blonde beauty who volunteers at the children’s refuge in Seven Dials — Charlotte Smythe lives a luxurious double life of ease as the mysterious chess genius at Goodrum’s House of Pleasure..

After spending years as a gifted investigator extricating others from their peccadillos, dedicated Bow Street runner Archer Colwyn has landed in a suds of his own making. The light-hearted journal of sensual exploits he and his school chums kept while students at Cambridge has gone missing, and the secrets within his particular pages, if revealed, could set off deadly consequences.

The dangerous Captain El Goodrum, proprietress of the most infamous house of pleasure in London, holds the key to their retrieval. In exchange for her cooperation, she demands he run a gauntlet of secrets to deliver a master criminal to justice. His only path to the damning pages is the inscrutable chess mistress who not only resents his attempts to romance away his journal pages, but seems to relish his dread and panic at the prospect of the pages becoming public knowledge.

Charlotte craves the kind of refuge she provides to the orphans she rescues from London’s stews. The respite she seeks away from the world in her St. John’s Wood villa with her two house companions is all that keeps her sane, but sometimes, late at night, she needs something more, something even she cannot name.

Excerpt: “Madame Goodrum, there is a good deal about me of which you are unaware. Many others have underestimated me…” He paused a long, silent moment before finally uttering, “At their own peril.”

“Ah, but there you are wrong. I don’t know whom you’ve dealt with in the past, but I see no peril in front of me now.”

“What do you see?” He leaned close again, his voice tense.

“I see a man desperate to reclaim something which could harm someone very close and dear to him.”

He jerked back as if seared by flames.

“Ah, yes. Now you see – I understand fully what is at stake here.” She kept her voice low and soothing, but she was sure he hadn’t missed the meaning of her words. His eyes had widened and he’d sucked in a sharp breath.

Even though she was certain she’d shattered his nerve, he straightened and demanded, “Stop baiting me. Just tell me. What is it you want?”

She slid a leather portfolio across the desk. “Read the papers inside and then bring me proof of the elimination of the man they concern.” She then placed an expensive vellum card into his hand. “This woman is the key to the return of your journal pages. She’s unlike any other woman you’ve ever encountered, so do not think to deal with her the same way you’d deal with the simpering females of your acquaintance.”

He took the card and studied the expensive, gilded printing.

She knew by heart what was on the carefully crafted card: “Madame Domino, Chess Mistress Extraordinaire” Beneath the name were gold edged letters for four nights of the week – Tuesday through Friday. The bottom line was stamped with the symbol of Goodrum’s House of Pleasure – a ship under full sail, flying a pennant etched with a tiny skull and crossbones. The card was the face of the lucrative worldwide business El had built with her own blood and sweat. The hard-won empire was hers to use as she pleased.

When he made to pluck the card from her grasp, she tightened her hold. “If you take this card, you are bound by your word to deliver this man to justice.” She gave the leather bag between them an ominous tap.

He snatched the card from her grasp and shouldered the bag before heading back out through her office door. He said nothing further. He didn’t have to.

She’d successfully leveraged the deeply held secret that could destroy not only him, but his sole reason for continuing to walk among the living.

Available now: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CBZSCCXL

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LOUISA

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LOUISA CORNELL BIO

After retiring from a European career as an opera singer, Louisa returned to her first love, writing Regency romance. A two-time Golden Heart finalist, three-time Daphne du Maurier winner, and four-time Royal Ascot winner—she is a member of RWA, Southern Magic RWA, and Regency Fiction Writers. She is both indie published and published by Scarsdale Publishing. Her first published work, the novella A Perfectly Dreadful Christmas from Christmas Revels, won the 2015 Holt Medallion. Her novel A Study in Passion won the historical romance mid-length category of RWA’s 2021 Vivian Award.

ANDREA K. STEIN BIO

The daughter of a trucker and an artist, she never knew it would take the hard-work ethic of her father to achieve the light-filled magic of her mother’s art. She grew up a scribbler. The stories just spilled out. A newspaper and publishing professional for thirty years, she ran away to sea for three years, delivering yachts to the Caribbean, earning a USCG offshore captain’s license. Now, she writes about love and adventure on the high seas from her writing room in Colorado. The first of the Men of the Squadron series, Pride of Honor, was a finalist in the RWA Beau Monde Chapter’s coveted Royal Ascot Contest. Rhum Bay, a prequel to the Men of the Squadron, snagged First Place in Romance in the Colorado Pikes Peak Writers Fiction Contest.

Meet Miss Susana Bigglesworth

By Susana Ellis

On August 13, 2023

In Susana Ellis, Teatime Tattler

Susana Bigglesworth is finally getting her Happy Ever After! Eventually, her story will be added to those of the other Desperate Daughters and those of you who purchased it earlier will receive the update!

17 December 1816

Leeds, West Yorkshire

“My dear Mrs. Martin, I really must insist that our gowns be completed in time for Lady Mersham’s Christmas Eve Ball. Your employee—I believe her name is Susan—quite unreasonably declines to assure me that this will be so.”

Mrs. Eddington’s outraged nostrils flared as she confronted the shop’s owner in the cramped but orderly back office.

Louise tucked a stray dark curl behind her ear and rose from her desk to face her customer.

“Her name is Susana, Mrs. Eddington—Miss Susana to you—and as you know, her superior skills are in great demand. Fanshawe & Sons has always been a haberdashery and not a modiste shop, and Miss Susana has graciously agreed to accommodate the needs of a select group of our clients. I am confident there are other establishments in town that can meet your requirements.”

“B-B-But my daughter wants her!” Mrs. Eddington’s shoulders slumped, her bravado having deserted her.

Louise moved from behind the desk to face her would-be attacker.

“Of course she does. As do a great many other ladies. Unfortunately, she is only one person and is tightly scheduled all the way through Twelfth Night.”

Mrs. Eddington wrung her hands. “Can you not take on more help for her? Give her her own shop? Because not just anyone can dress my Esme to advantage, and others have assured me that Miss Susana can do it.”

Louise sighed. Mrs. Eddington was right: Susana did deserve to have her own shop. Her husband Benoît was eager to plunge into the project. But Louise tended to err on the side of caution. It was true that Susana’s dressmaking attracted a sizable number of customers for the haberdashery, but business tended to decline during the winter and she wasn’t sure this was the time for laying out a significant amount of their modest nest egg to set up a new shop.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Eddington,” she commiserated as she took the woman’s arm and led her out of the office. “Perhaps Miss Susana can work you in after the holidays, create a lovely dress or two for Esme’s come-out in the spring. In the meantime,” she suggested as she handed the woman over to Benoît, behind the counter, “perhaps my husband can show you some of the new lace that came in this week, or possibly some kid gloves?”

“Well,” said Mrs. Eddington, mollified. “Esme did mention that she could use some coquelicot ribbon to adorn her new hat.”

Coquelicot! Louise shuddered at the thought of the plump young woman decked out in bright colors and frills. Passing by the small storeroom that served as Susana’s workroom, she peeked around the door jamb.

“I suppose you heard. Dear Susana, your popularity is keeping us all on our toes. Between my having to smooth disappointed customers’ ruffled feathers and my husband’s fawning all over them to make a sale, Fanshawe & Sons is getting more than our share of attention these days.”

Susana looked up and giggled. “Coquelicot indeed! I’ve seen that girl and she’s as pale as a ghost. Bright colors would wash out her face and accentuate her unfortunate figure.”

Louise shook her head. “I suppose her mother will insist on a multitude of colored flounces that will give her the look of a wedding cake. She is a sweet girl, though. I do hope you will find the time to contrive something more appropriate for her come-out, perhaps after the holidays.”

Susana grimaced and put down her sewing. “I hope so, but, as you know, my stepmother Patience has called us all to Starbrook for some sort of family rendezvous. On Twelfth Night, oddly enough.”

“Perhaps she needs assistance in taking down the Yule decorations,” suggested Louise. “Or she intends you all to bless the trees in the orchard with cider and bread.”

Susana grinned. “We have no orchard to speak of,” she replied, “only two apple trees, which wouldn’t require the entire band of Bigglesworths, even if Patience were the type to waste resources on such a useless endeavor.” She bit her lip. “I do wonder what it’s all about, though. Her letter gave no hint. If someone were ill, surely she wouldn’t hold off until January. I haven’t heard of any potential husbands presenting themselves to my sisters, so I don’t suppose a wedding is in the offing.” She took a deep breath. “The only thing that comes to mind is an unexpected expenditure. And that could be a real problem.”

Louise entered the room and closed the door behind her. “If it comes to that, dear Susana, perhaps Benoît and I can help you. A salary advance, perhaps? We don’t have a lot ourselves, especially with Benoît’s brother coming, but what we have we are quite willing to share with you.”

Hopefully Blaise would find a position and settle somewhere on his own, she thought. He could stay in his mother’s boarding house for a while. But no—not with Susana staying there. It wouldn’t be proper, even with Marie Françoise as a chaperone.

Susana shook her head. “Oh no, that is very kind of you, but I could not.” She picked up her needle and the length of sarcenet she was working on. “I doubt that is the problem. Patience is very frugal, and she knows we are all committed to keeping the family healthy and whole.”

Louise raised her eyebrows. “Oh that’s right. You and all of your sisters contribute to the household?”

“Not all of us.” Susana chuckled. “Emma, Merri, and Jane are still children. They do help Patience with the baking—she supplies bread for the local market—but I suspect they are more of hindrance. Merri and Jane, at least,” she added. “Emma just turned twelve. Not a child anymore. It seems only yesterday we were changing her nappies.” She sighed.

“The eldest sister, Bess, is an amateur historian, which doesn’t provide any income at present, although the project she is currently working on with Mr. Young of the London Royal Society may eventually do so. My sister Barbara gives music lessons, and Doro works for a hotel in Harrogate, catering and such. Josefina studies plants and provides herbs and such to the local apothecary. She’s learned a lot about medicines. Iris and Ivy—twins—are talented artists. Drawing and painting, mostly. But I heard they have been doing some pottery of late, to sell. And I—well, you know what I do.” She paused to thread a needle. “None of us earns a great deal, but what we do contribute adds up and manages to keep everyone fed and clothed.”

Louise nodded. “I am all admiration for the Bigglesworth sisters. Not all families would be so loyal. Particularly with so many different mothers and the last one so young, younger even than some of you.”

Susana snorted. “The same age as Doro, younger than the eldest three daughters. But you know,” she added as she reached for a pair of scissors, “Patience is quite mature for her age, a mother hen for all of her assorted stepdaughters. The constant parade of stepmothers—not to mention the virtual absence of our father—had the effect of bringing us closer together. Especially when it meant losing our own mothers at such young ages.”

“That is indeed tragic. Losing a mother at any age is a blow, particularly when you subsequently lose a succession of stepmothers.”

“Patience, at least, should be with us a good long time,” Susana said with authority. “Well, I’d best be getting on with Miss Delph’s morning gown. The wedding is in a week, and she’ll be needing her trousseau.”

Louise sighed. “I beg your pardon for taking so much of your time, Susana. I must get back to my inventory as well. Numbers must be counted and orders put in for the new year.”

She turned in the doorway. “Shall you come up for luncheon or would you prefer Molly to bring you down a tray?”

“A tray please, if Molly doesn’t mind the extra work. Our bride is coming for a fitting early tomorrow morning and I have a great deal to do before it gets dark.”

“As you wish.”

Louise closed the door and left Susana to her sewing.

Susana Ellis loves reading, writing, and sewing, but deadlines not so much. Besides being a part-time caregiver for her elderly mother, she enjoys her retirement and her kind and considerate author friends, particularly the Bluestocking Belles!