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Musings of a Motley Meddler: Complicated Stuff. Wink. Wink.

By

On December 1, 2018

In Amy Quinton, Regency (19th century Britain), Teatime Tattler

5 January 1815
Bath, England

Dear Interested Parties,

Today’s Topic: Classical Mechanics or the Magic of Numbers. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure which.

It is with great honor that I announce that none other than the reclusive Dr. John Edward Hartwell has agreed to give a lecture on Mathematics and Sir Isaac Newton’s Laws of Classical Mechanics as well as discuss his own theories, recently printed, with regards to chaotic tendencies in orderly systems, at my home near Bath on Monday the 9th of January.

Perhaps, after I attend his lecture, I will understand what, precisely, all that means.

In the meantime, my guests and I await with baited breath, the arrival of our mysterious genius. Never fear, dear readers, for you will be the first to hear all the delicious details regarding this elusive man. Here. In the Teatime Tattler.

My Umbrella is at the ready.

Signed,

Lady Harriett Ross
—Self-proclaimed Matchmaking Motley Meddler
—Mistress of Destiny
—Wielder of the Infamous Umbrella

Bloomfield Place
Bath, England

I’m just an old woman with opinions. On everything.

Editor’s Note:

  1. More Information to follow as Lady Harriett Ross and author Amy Quinton reveal more of what’s to come in the 3rd Installment of the Umbrella Chronicles: John and Emma’s story. Due in time for Valentine’s Day, February 2019.
  2. The image is an engraving of Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727), English scientist and mathematician. It captures the story of Newton’s dog, Diamond, who once knocked over a candle while Newton was out of the room, causing the papers piled on Newton’s desk to catch fire. Those papers contained some pretty important information – they were filled with calculations which had taken him twenty years to make! Upon finding nothing but ashes remained of all his hard work, he cried, “Oh, Diamond! Diamond! Thou little knowest what mischief thou hast done!”

 

BISHOP DECRIES MAGIC TOKEN

By

On November 28, 2018

In Bluestocking Belles, Teatime Tattler

TEATIME TATTLER: Your Grace, London is humming with the news of your most recent sermon. You spoke with some concern about a magic ring that purportedly brings lovers together.

THE BISHOP OF HESKINGTON: The Devil’s work, sir. I do not scruple to say a pernicious evil that tempts foolish people onto the path to Hell.

TEATIME TATTLER: But Your Grace, in the stories I’ve heard, the ring brings true lovers together in the bonds of Holy Matrimony. Is this not a good thing?

HESKINGTON: (Snorting with disdain) Carnal love, sir. Carnal love. Hardly a suitable frame of mind in which to approach that most holy of institutions with reverence. Marriage is not about carnal love, except that those who are susceptible to its curse might, from time to time, in darkness and with due dispatch, find release from their sinful urges. This ring is from the Devil, I tell you.

TEATIME TATTLER: May I tell your readers that you believe in its power, then, Your Grace?

HESKINGTON: I believe in the power of the Lord to overcome even this devil-ring, and to guide the poor souls who have given themselves over to its evil into a state of rational grace. I pray that they will be delivered from their subjection, though I fear that the ring continues to exercise its malign effects long after it passes from their hands.

TEATIME TATTLER: Ah yes. Because the ring, its job done, goes to work its magic on others. But of whom we know seem to stay in love, do they not?

HESKINGTON: (Shakes head sadly) Indeed. Indeed, they do. I have heard terrible tales of people brought together even through time; of married couples settled in a relationship of benign neglect acting like giddy children; of brave soldiers wanting the courage to turn away an unsuitable match. It breaks my heart, sir. Who knows where it shall end? I can speak of it no more.

(He leaves.)

TEATIME TATTLER: So, gentle reader, which view is correct? Is the ring indeed a tool of the devil? Its magic beneficial, smoothing the way of true love? Or is the presence of the ring merely a coincidence in a love story that would have happened without it?

Decide for yourself as the Bluestocking Belles tell some of the stories of the ring. You’ll find short scenes in the week of December, on this page, on the individual blogs of the Belles, and on a special section of this website. See also the novellas in Follow Your Star Home, where eight pairs of lovers feel the power of the ring. Or do they?

An Invitation to Holiday Revels

By

On November 21, 2018

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

An invitation addressed to His Grace, the Duke of Harlowe, has found its way into our newsroom. It appears that Gertrude Marsden, Countess of Marsden may have sent several letters of this ilk regarding revels at her country house.  The lady, if we may call her that, is quite bold in her expression in this one. We at the Teatime Tattler believe it will be of interest to our readers, who may wish to be warned about the countess’s nature before they accept.

December 1, 1815

Your Grace~

Now that we’ve sent that rascal Bony to the far reaches of St. Helena, I’m ready for festivities for the Season! I hope you are also.

To marry off my darling nieces, I’ve invited my fondest friends to my Christmas house party on the North Steyne in Brighton from December 21 through December 28. Twenty-six will lodge in the house. More than one hundred also have responded they’ll attend my annual ball Christmas night. At least half of them are eligible men. And should you accept my invitation—which of course this is—you will be numbered among them.

I do hope you will attend us here for the duration! I’ve planned the usual diversions. Greenery gathering, though we do not wish to prick our fingers! Cards and dice, though I will ensure my darling Marjorie does not pick your pocket too deeply! Charades. Do plan to partner me in that game as—perhaps—Romeo and Juliet? Elizabeth and Darcy?

I know it has been five long months since we “played” at anything together. However, I do presume to invite you to join me during this gathering. I need a partner. You.

Yes. You see I am quite frank!

Why?

First and foremost, my step-son, Colonel Lord Marsden, remains with Wellington in Paris. While I wish for his return—especially to do what his heart commands and woo my niece Marjorie—I have no final word from him that the Duke will permit him leave of absence.

Secondly, but not less important, I must declare once and for all, Your Grace, I need you here with me. For Christmas, I wish you close.

I can imagine your marvelous blue eyes wide, your grey brows arched high, with surprise at my declaration of desire. But I am compelled. Driven. Indeed, needy, Your Grace. Needy!

No, I have not written you since I left you in that quaint little hotel room that afternoon in Margate in August. I wished to contemplate what we did there. And I’ve concluded that what I felt then for you, Your Grace, was a passion as hot, an affection as radiant as the summer sun. I feel it still each time I recall us as we lounged like libertines on the terrace naked while the sea crashed upon the shore and took our breaths in such raptures.

I do confess that since I left you that afternoon I’ve been atwitter, hoping against hope you might favor me by calling upon me. Alas, you have not. But I excuse you readily. Of course I do. I put your reluctance down to your desire to conclude your year of mourning for your wife. That formal period ended last week.

After much thought on the matter, I can understand other reasons why you’ve not approached me. You were shocked by your quick affections. I was surprised by my own. After all, it had been five years since last we met…and enjoyed the varied rewards of our mutual affections. Five years ago, those were of conversation and the recognition of like minds. Our Margate encounter was the rekindling of those sparks which previously we dared not fan. Yet I will declare our interlude was a unique rapture. If my heart palpitated with exquisite delights that afternoon we spent in the throes of madness, my mind since then has relived a thousand times the ecstasy we shared.

Might you not come to my party? Might we not rekindle the flames of a glorious afternoon rolling as God made us upon those downy linen sheets?

Yes, you may call me bold. Yes, you may refuse me a response.

But I ask you, Your Grace, is not life for the living?

My husband has long since departed this world.

Your wife, gone less time, but nonetheless not of this world.

My step-son is grown. A man about to take a wife. My other responsibilities of my dearly departed sister’s three daughters will soon cease as they go to their own marriage beds. My days spread before me and I wish for another marvelous taste of true love before I grow too mature to revel in its physical pleasures…and its ethereal rewards.

Won’t you join me and my guests for Christmas?

Let us hail Christmas with reverence. Hail my nieces’ and my step-son’s engagements with joy. And ring in the New Year, just you and I alone in a cocoon of our mutual desires for romance, love and conjugal unity.

Darling Winston, let us not to the marriage of true minds find impediments. We are too old to worry that children may object. Would yours dare? They married for love. We two are also free, unburdened by family responsibilities. Your three are married and prospering. Mine soon will be, too. We both are too established among the ton to care that you are a duke, widowered, and I, a widowed countess who has slept alone for more years than I care to recall.

May we not, my dear, revel in the Season and in each other?

I long to kiss you and invite you to cavort with me!

Let this be a happy Christmas! Come to my party! We’ve much to enjoy!

                                             Yours affectionately,
                                                      Gertrude

About the Books

The Countess of Marsden invites you to her house party! Seven nights and days of frolic, gossip, dancing…and match-making for her three nieces.
Sad, isn’t it, that none of the Craymore sisters wishes to wed?
Exciting, isn’t it, that three war heroes arrive who know precisely what they want for Christmas?
Wonderful, isn’t it, that each might gain the most precious Christmas gift of all?

Find them here:

 About the Author

Cerise DeLand loves to cook, hates to dust, lives to travel, read and write!

She pens #1 Bestselling Regencies and Victorians known for their spice, historical accuracy and eloquence! With awards on her shelves for more than 60 romances, she’s written for Pocket, St. Martin’s and Kensington. She likes awards…and wine at 5 p.m.

Find Cerise:

Cerise DeLand’s Website:  www.cerisedeland.com

Cerise DeLand’s Delicious Doings Blog: http://cerisedeland.blogspot.com

 

 

 

The Tattler Interviews Lady Aisla MacKai from A Wish For All Seasons by Rue Allyn in the Bluestocking Belles’ holiday collections, Follow Your Star Home

By

On November 17, 2018

In Teatime Tattler

Greetings friends and readers. Lady Aisla MacKai is among the most fascinating men and women of fiction that The Tattler has been privileged to meet in recent memory. The basic facts concerning the lady are these: She claims to be more than twenty years old, but refuses to be more specific. I got quite the tongue lashing from her when I pressed her on the matter. She was born, and lived her entire life at Dungarob Keep, the ancestral home of the MacKai clan and the Barons who led them. She is black-haired, fair-skinned, gray-eyed, and (as Caibre MacFearann her fiancé told me), as fair a lass as ever graced the highlands. I must agree that his charming and challenging young woman is a most pleasant sight to behold. With that introduction, let us commence Lady Aisla MacKai’s interview.

TT: “I understand you recently became engaged.”

AM: “Aye.”

TT: “Could you tell us about your fiancé and how your engagement came about?”

: “Well Caibre MacFearann is the most exasperatin’ mon a female could ever meet. He’s handsome as the devil and knows it. I dinna wish t’ become engaged at all, especially to Caibre given our mutual past. But you might say my hand was forced.”

TT: “You mean he compromised you?” (I asked this with some trepidation. The Tattler has a reputation for discretion, but also for truth. I want our readers to know exactly what circumstances forced Lady Aisla’s hand to marriage.)

AM: “Nothing of the kind, sir. What sort of woman do you think I am?”

TT: “My humble apologies, Lady Aisla, I believe you to be a most honorable woman, but you must admit that a statement such as ‘my hand was forced,’ leads most minds to the inevitable conclusion that you were compromised. To clear the air for our friends and readers, please explain what you meant.”

AM: “Well, y’ see. Several years ago, my brother, Baron Steafan MacKai embarked on a journey to the east indies in order to gain funds badly needed to repair Dungarob Keep and the barony’s holdings. He’d recently wed and sent his wife back to Dungarob in his stead. However, one thing led to another and she decided to return to her family in Boston. That left me in charge of keep and clan. I did my best to hold things together, even after my brother went missing at sea. His wife, a woman unknowledgeable of British law, petitioned Queen Victoria to have Steafan declared legally dead. That Bostonian wished to marry another mon. With my brother dead and no legal heirs, the barony would revert to the crown.”

TT: “But doesn’t Scottish law recognize women as legitimate heirs?”

AM:” That’s the short way of putting it. But Scotland’s law does’na pertain. Centuries ago one of our ancestors pledged fealty to the English crown in order to protect the keep and the clan. Since then, Dungarob has been subject directly to English law.”

TT: “You have my sympathy. That must be a difficult circumstance for a true Scot to handle.”

AM: “It is, sir, It is indeed.”

TT: “What did you do?”

AM: “What could I do? I wrote to Queen Victoria, and begged her as a woman who understood love of country and the great loss of a beloved man. Albeit she lost a husband, and I only a brother. Nonetheless the loss of any loved one is great.”

TT: (By now I’m sitting on the edge of my chair wondering how all of this forced Lady Aisla to affiance herself to Caibre MacFearann—a second son by the way of an infamous family. But the MacFearann legend is a story for another day.) “Did Her Majesty reply to your letter?”

AM: “That she did, in her own hand. She had all sympathy for my loss, but would not overturn the law for any reason. She would allow Dungarob Keep to stay within the MacKai family however, if within six months I wed a mon willing to take the MacKai name and title. Evidently there is legal precedent for that.”

TT: “I understand now. A title must have been a great inducement to a second son, especially when accompanied by your lovely self.” (Lady Aisla sits opposite me blushing whether from my poor attempt at a compliment or anger over the implication that a title is needed before a man would wed her, I cannot tell.).

AM: “I would be furious at your implication—intended or not—did a title hold any interest for Caibre.”

TT: “You mean he doesn’t care about the title?”

AM: “He says he does’na. As proof he reminded me that he left Scotland years ago to escape the burdens of nobility and his family reputation. He’s been ranching in Wyoming. Making a fortune he claims. He only returned to Scotland when his father passed away.”

TT: “So you discovered he’d returned and wrote to him for help?”

AM: “. I was at my wit’s end when an early November blizzard brought him to my door along with my missing brother.”

TT: “ I don’t understand. If your brother isn’t truly dead why must you wed MacFearann?”

AM: “Because the legal wheels of Britain turn very slowly. It might take years for my brother’s petition to be legally resurrected and reinstated as Baron MacKai could be granted. We had only six months to satisfy the queen’s requirements. It was marry Caibre MacFearann, who happened to be handy and willing, or lose everything.”

TT: “It does indeed seem that you and your brother were in desperate case. Mr. MacFearann is willing to give up the title once your brother’s petition is approved?”

AM: “Aye.”

TT: “And after that will you return with him to Wyoming?” (Lady Aisla looks everywhere about the room, even to the extent of studying her nails to avoid my gaze.)

AM: “He has’na asked me.”

TT: “Surely as his wife . . .?”

AM: “Caibre MacFearann is a difficult mon and beyond understanding.”

TT: (She rises and with hands fisted stares defiance at me.)

AM: “I’ve said entirely too much. In fact, I should never have agreed to this interview. Good day, sir.”

TT: She grabs her reticule and departs before I can soothe any ruffled feathers. I’ll be honest, I’m not quite certain what I did to set her off so. If any of you readers would like to help me understand, please address a comment to Mr. S. Clemens, care of The TeaTime Tattler.

*A note for our readers. Shortly after The Bluestocking Belles announced the future release of Follow Your Star Home, a storm of protest erupted from those who protested that the book was too scandalous to read. Supporters of the Belles, responded in strength and numbers. The Tattler, in fairness, published all communications received on the subject. The book has now been released to great reviews. So you could very well judge for yourself. Below is some information about Follow Your Star Home, A Wish for All Seasons (Mrs. Allyn’s contribution to the collection) about Mrs. Allyn herself, and The Bluestocking Belles. As always our readers’ comments are welcome and appreciated.

About Follow Your Star Home: Forged for lovers, the Viking star ring is said to bring lovers together, no matter how far, no matter how hard. In eight stories, covering more than half the world and a thousand years, our heroes and heroines put the legend to the test. Watch the star work its magic, as prodigals return home in the season of good will, uncertain of their welcome. 25% of proceeds benefit the Malala Fund.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H4ZY517

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/2y0SJbd

iBooks: https://apple.co/2ObkLLj

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/nz/en/ebook/follow-your-star-home

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/894110

Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon BR: https://www.amazon.com.br/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon DE: https://www.amazon.de/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon ES: https://www.amazon.es/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon FR: https://www.amazon.fr/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon IN: https://www.amazon.in/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon IT: https://www.amazon.it/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon JP: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon MX: https://www.amazon.com.mx/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon NL: https://www.amazon.nl/dp/B07H4ZY517

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07H4ZY517

About A Wish for All Seasons: The last thing Caibre MacFearann wants is to return to Scotland let alone be forced to stay there. But the chance to rekindle the lost love of his youth is too tempting to resist. Losing Caibre MacFearann’s love once hurt so much that Aisla MacKai wants nothing to do with him when a blizzard brings the man to her doorstep. Kindness and human charity require that she give him shelter, no matter that her poor heart had never mended.

About Mrs. Rue Allyn: Rue Allyn is the award-winning author of heart melting historical and contemporary romances. A USN veteran with a Ph.D. in medieval literature, Rue has retired south of the US border where she basks in the glow of sunny days and heated inspiration. She continues to enjoy professional relationships in the Romance Writers of America, The Maumee Valley Romance Authors Inc. and the (in)famous Bluestocking Belles.

About The Bluestocking Belles:

The Belles are ten very different writers united by a love of history and a history of writing about love. From sweet to steamy, from light-hearted fun to dark tortured tales full of angst, from London ballrooms to country cottages to the sultan’s seraglio, one or more of us will have a tale to suit your tastes and mood.

We love doing joint projects. This year’s boxed set is Follow Your Star Home, Eight original stories, more than 600 pages of diverse characters, complex relationships, and happily ever afters. Divided sweethearts seek love and forgiveness in this collection of seasonal novellas. Forged for lovers, the Viking star ring is said to bring lovers together, no matter how far, no matter how hard. If you’d like to learn more about us try searching these links.

  • Website: https://bluestockingbelles.net
  • Teatime Tattler: https://bluestockingbelles.net/category/teatime-tattler/
  • Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/bellesinblue/
  • Twitter: https://twitter.com/BellesInBlue
  • Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/bellesinblue/

Asking For A Friend…

By

On November 14, 2018

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

Dear Mr Clemens,

I have a friend who is at her wits end and doesn’t know what to do, but she enjoys your newspaper even if she can only read it very slowly and has seen you have offered your sage advice to many others before her. I shan’t tell you her name because the situation is very delicate, and she is likely very soon to become engaged to a Duke, so I must preserve her good reputation.

asking for a friendI say likely, because the whole ton expects the announcement eagerly, and they have done for over a year. I cannot imagine why he is dragging his feet because my friend is considered very beautiful and charming. Yet not only has he failed to ask her, he’s also never bothered trying to steal a kiss either which is very odd. Especially as she’s lauded as an incomparable and had men queuing for her hand before the duke came along.

In truth, he rather scared everyone else off and I had my head turned… I mean my friend did. Who wouldn’t want to marry a duke? Even if this one is a little dull and pads his jackets… only talks about himself…

But I digress, because whilst my friend has been doing absolutely everything in her power- short of smacking him across his arrogant head with her fan to chivvy him into a proposal- there has been another complication.

An unforeseen, unexpected and utterly thrilling complication.

She’s met another man and is inexplicably drawn to him. He’s not noble- not by any chalk- but he is kind and handsome, painfully shy and most definitely does not need to pad out his jacket! I know this because I accidentally encountered him stripped to the waist at my sister’s house a few months ago and I have been entirely unable to dismiss the scandalously magnificent picture of his manly body from my mind.

And he’s a spy! On an important government mission. A secret he entrusted only to me… I mean my friend… when she recognized him pretending to be someone else. Now she is helping him navigate the murky waters of society, a place he feels very uncomfortable within, and in return he is going to make my, er, the duke jealous to hasten the anticipated engagement. Which is marvellous, I suppose, although I’m not entirely sure I want things sped along now that I’ve met Seb… I mean since she met him.

What should my friend do?

Yours sincerely

Befuddled of Berkeley Square

About the Book, The Mysterious Lord Millcroft

Life as a duchess… Or something much more dangerous…?

Constantly told her beauty and charm is all she has to offer, Lady Clarissa is intent on marrying a duke. And intriguing spy Sebastian Leatham will help her! Only first she’ll assist him with his new assignment—playing the part of confident aristocrat Lord Millcroft. Sebastian awakens a burning desire within Clarissa which leaves her questioning whether becoming a duchess is what she truly longs for…
Purchase on Amazon

About the Author

When Virginia Heath was a little girl it took her ages to fall asleep, so she made up stories in her head to help pass the time while she was staring at the ceiling. As she got older, the stories became more complicated, sometimes taking weeks to get to the happy ending. Then one day, she decided to embrace the insomnia and start writing them down. But it still takes her ages to fall asleep.

Website: https://www.virginiaheathromance.com/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/virginiaheathauthor/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/VirginiaHeath_

 

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