Tag: 19th Century Page 2 of 22

The Wise Bet Is the Duke Is Dead.

On April 1, 2023

A man can learn a lot sitting in the shadows outside the gentlemen’s clubs that line Saint James Street. On a recent night an argument among three particularly drunken pinks of the ton raised some interesting questions. They were discussing a certain duke who had been most conspicuous for his absence during the previous season. Well into the summer no sign of him had been found in any of the usual chains of gossip. It was as I he had disappeared.

One gentleman, an Honorable, if ‘honorable” actually applies to such a man, held forth at some length his belief that the duke had merely decamped to an inn in an obscure village in Nottinghamshire—Ashwell or Ashburn, or something—and was in the process of drinking himself to death. He swore he’d seen him there the previous spring.

The other two argued mightily no one simply walked away from a dukedom. They questioned whether the duke had been kidnapped, set upon by robbers, or met with some other misadventure. The baronet among them held out for death at the hands of brigand. The other argued for drowning and a hint of suicid

A foray among the rear doors of the clubs, discrete questions to servants, and a survey of some of the less savory gambling dens frequented by gentlemen brought the picture into focus to your reporter. Consensus among the fashionable of London is that the duke has met with a grisly end, and I must say that the stories became more gruesome with the telling. Many believe he has done away with himself, and the betting has shifted to how he died and where. Suicide is the leading bet. Some are even scouting the Thames for sign of a body but none has been found so far.

In summary, the Duke of Glenmoor is dead. He must be, for as the gentleman said, no one walks away from a dukedom.

About the Book:

Duke in All But Name, the Entitled Gentlemen Book 1

Is he the bastard or the duke?

Gideon Kendrick grew up as the despised bastard son of the Duke of Glenmoor. Exiled to the mines by his father, he has not only survived but thrived and prospered. He lives apart, wanting nothing to do with the duke, the estate—or anything in his past, except his younger brother Phillip, the new duke.

When Phillip disappears, leaving behind a letter asking his brother to care for his affairs, Gideon can’t refuse. Armed with authority making him the duke in all but name, he returns to the scene of his worst memories, facing vicious rumors and his family’s past. He also finds a grasping would-be heir, a steward with secrets, and a woman who stirs in him a desire he thought buried with his beloved wife.

Mia Selwyn lives in the shadows, an unwanted poor relation in the house of her viscount uncle. When her cousin’s hoydenish attempt to meet the supposed heir sees her drenched, ill, and in need of nursing, Mia is sent to care for her. Though warned to stay clear of the despised Kendrick, she is drawn into the dark undercurrents among the mismatched collection of residents and enthralled by the enigmatic Mr. Kendrick.

She quickly realizes he is not the monster he is rumored to be, twisted in body and mind. Instead, he is a resilient resourceful man with a deep love of family. As family, household servants, and villagers take sides on whether Gideon is the source of all the estate’s problems or its salvation, Mia and Gideon forge a partnership.

Together they struggle to unravel secrets and the tangle Phillip left behind, and in the process, find a future for themselves.

Read Free in Kindle Unlimited or purchase here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BJS3GDN7/

The duke is dead! Or is he? Watch for Phillip’s story, Book 2, Duke in Name Only this spring.

The Entitled Gentlemen Series

An interview with a veteran of Trafalgar and his lady!

By Cerise DeLand

On March 22, 2023

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

Previously Recorded Interview:

Ah, there you are and just in time. Thank you for joining us on WRAC. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this. We’ve pulled a real coup. Let me give you a little background before they begin. I’m your host and moderator, Justin Case. We’re about to interview the hero, Lord Fraser Castleton, and heroine, Lady Marianna Ravencroft, of Ruth A. Casie’s book, The Lady and the Barrister. I see everyone is ready. I’ll fill you in on their story when the interview is over.

[footsteps walking across the floor]

Justin Case: (Facing the audience) Welcome and good afternoon. Today’s guests are Lord Fraser Castleton, the new Duke of Willbury a barrister and veteran of the War of Trafalgar. Also with us is his intended, Lady Marianna Ravencroft. She gives her time to the Sommer-by-the-Sea Foundation, raising funds for the disadvantaged. She does that in a very unique manner. She is the eminent event planner who asks her patrons to donate her fee to the Foundation. She has an impressive list of clients, there is a rumor that even the queen may be commissioning her services.

As you know our time is limited so I won’t go into their backgrounds. You can find all that in the story.

One minute, I’m getting a message from the control room. Yes. Our guest have just arrived. They are just coming in the studio door. I have a good view of Lord Castleton. He is a handsome man with dark wavy hair, a bit unruly, he keeps combing his fingers through it. He has a well-trimmed beard and blue green eyes. Ah, I can see why ladies swoon. I wish you could see for yourself. Lady Anna, as she prefers to be called, described him as having “a devastating smile that curled her toes.”

Wait, Lady Anna is turning around. Oh, my, her bronze curls frame her face. She has a slender frame and slim hips. Her penetrating brown eyes can take your breath away. I can see from her smile that she is a bit mischievous and full of good humor. They make a lovely couple. Here they come.

(Justin stood as the guests entered) Please, have a seat. I want to thank you both for taking time to talk to us today.

Lord Fraser: We are happy to visit with you.

Justin: I want to be respectful of your time so let’s go right into our questions. Sometimes an author’s vision of the story doesn’t always match with that of the characters. Do you have any complaints on how Ms. Casie depicted you or the story events.

Lord Fraser: (Glanced at his wife then back at Justin) No. Not at all. Our story is a Regency friends to lovers story. As a bachelor duke there wasn’t anywhere, I could go that some mother, grandmother or aunt was telling me how they had just the woman I had to meet. Surely, I would marry her.

Lady Anna: I had a similar situation. With my family’s situation, money and title, men were coming out of the woodwork telling me they were just what I needed. They were more than happy to take over the management of my money and estate. They event thought I would give up my business, after all, women in my situation didn’t work. Can you imagine. Even though I helped the families in our village.

Justin: That brings up an interesting question. When you marry, who will take care of the household accounts?

Lord Fraser and Lady Anna answered simultaneously: We both will, together.

Justin: (chuckling) I am sure that is a first in Regency England. Lady Anna, I understand the story centers around a pact you make with Lord Fraser.

Lady Anna: It’s a simple one. We decided to pretend he was courting me to keep others from bombarding us with matches. We decided we would find the perfect match for each other. (Anna glances at Fraser) We never realized we already had met our perfect match.

Justin: Very clever. I don’t want to give away the story, but Lady Anna your distant cousin had other plans for you.

Lord Fraser: (holding Anna’s hand) You don’t have to speak about that.

Lady Anna: (looking at him lovingly then at Justin) My cousin Richard wanted money and power. Like others who had approached me, he thought marrying me was his answer. But he was a devious man who caused pain not only to my family, but to his Grace’s family as well. But you came to my rescue.

Lord Fraser: Kaiah played a big part in that.

Justin: Ah, yes, Kaiah, an extraordinary shepherd. (listening to his earpiece) I want to thank Lord Fraser and Lady Anna for joining us today. You can find out more about Kaiah, Lord Fraser, and Lady Anna The Lady and the Barrister by Ruth A. Casie.

I’d like to acknowledge our station, WRAC and staff for their commitment and fortitude to see this project to fruition. Many technologies had to be developed to make this happen and credit must be given where credit is deserved.

General Manager — Norma Leigh Lucid

Studio Manager — Helen Back

Maintenance Supervisors — Earl E. Bird and Ella Vada

Musical Supervisor — Kerry Oki

Electrical Engineers — Flint Sparks and Les Volt

Sound Crew — Mike Rafone and Constance Hum

Traffic Manager — Joy Rider

Legal Advisor — Sara Bellum

Researchers — Paige Turner and Rita Booke

Commissary Director — Jasmine Rice

Security Directors — Barry Cade and Anna Conda

Funded by donors Hy Price and his wonderful wife Lois Price

The Lady and the Barrister – Book 1

The Return of the Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea

After two failed London Seasons the fussy heiress doesn’t have a suitor. Her close friend, a newly minted duke cannot keep the mothers with single daughters away. They make a pact to pretend to court while they find each other the perfect mate. When will they realize, they don’t have to look very far.

Releases April 11 – Amazon KU https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BSG2GMH9

Excerpt

“There was a time… I’m almost embarrassed to tell you.”

He leaned down and spoke so only she could hear. “You must know your secrets are safe with me. Now that you’ve piqued my interest, you must tell me.”

“That at one time I thought about wearing a token of some sort and letting people think someone had offered for me just to stop their infernal questions and interference.”

They entered the dining room.

“I don’t think that’s so terrible.” They browsed the table looking for their place card. “Look at Violet Scofield. She has it in her mind that we are interested in each other and is looking elsewhere for a match for Sonia’s niece. There can’t be any rumors of being after each other’s fortunes. We’ve known each other almost all our lives, and we get along well.”

She stopped and stared at him. He tugged her along.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” The thought was intriguing. “No, it’s impossible.”

“Here we are. Conveniently next to each other.” Willbury pulled out her chair. “I don’t think it’s impossible. A bit reckless, but nothing more. What obstacles could there be?”

He bent close as he moved her chair.

“We will be courting, not engaged. That will leave both of us able to discontinue the arrangement without consequences. Isn’t that the purpose of courting? To see if we suit?”

She was more astonished that he was serious about this arrangement and not his usual teasing self.

He took his seat. “This will only work if everyone believes us.” He leaned over to Mrs. Bainbridge next to him and said something she didn’t hear.

Anna remained quiet. His idea was preposterous. It would require spending a great deal of time together. She gave him a sideways glance. Yes, she’d been thinking about him since yesterday, but this? And yes, they’d spent a lot of time together when they were younger, and she did miss her close friend.

He came away from Mrs. Bainbridge, chuckled, and returned his attention to her.

“I could always tell when you were conjuring up something. You are giving my proposition thought, aren’t you?”

Anna dipped her head with all intentions of putting an end to his teasing. She schooled her face, presenting a stern haughty glare. She raised her chin and gazed into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek, creating a mischievous mien.

His gentle laughter rippled through the air. His roguish eyes and lips released something inside her. She recognized his silent challenge. He thought he would accomplish what she could not.

About the Author

Ruth A Casie is a USA Today bestselling author. She writes historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone streets of Regency London. Within the pages you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense, mind boggling drama, and heart melting emotions featuring strong women and the men who deserve them. Grab your favorite cup of tea, or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across the pages to find their happily ever after. Ruth hopes her stories are your next favorite adventures!

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A Sight to See! Mr. Ridley in Rome!

By Cerise DeLand

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

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/sandrasookooauthor/

Private reader group on FB: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1985711228318050/

Amazon page: amazon.com/author/sandrasookoo

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sandrasookoo/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sandrasookoo/

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 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.

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