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Meet Blaise Arquette, formerly of Wellington’s Army

Blaise Arquette has just returned from a position at the Home Office where he had served since Waterloo. Prior to that he served nearly two decades in the War with France, lately as an exploring officer with the Duke of Wellington. Just one day prior to this scene, he had met a lovely seamstress in his brother’s haberdashery shop. The rest of Blaise and Susana’s story, A Seamstress, a Soldier, and a Secret will appear in an updated version of Desperate Daughters, which you can get for free in January 2024 if you have previously purchased the ebook version.

You can meet Susana Bigglesworth here.

18 December 1816

Leeds, West Yorkshire

Early afternoon

Blaise knew that finding work would not be an easy task; his time at the Home Office had shown him that. Soldiers and sailors trudging London streets desperately trying to feed their families, many reduced to begging in the streets. Those who returned without limbs had even less to hope for; they would end among the parish poor, no doubt in some workhouse or another. He always felt a flutter of guilt when he came upon them; wishing there were some way to help them but at the same time perceiving that, but for the grace of God, he might even now be among them.

He at least had his brother to fall back on, although he had no intention of remaining a hanger-on. He had no clear idea of what sort of position he might find; the skills he had mastered in the Army—namely marksmanship, horsemanship, map drawing, and writing—were not transferable to any sort of trade he could think of. The government was eliminating positions right and left as the post-war economy hurtled the country toward disaster, his own with the Home Office included.

That morning he rose early, determined to do a bit of reconnaissance in the neighborhood to assess the situation. The tradesmen he chatted with were impressed with his military service, but few were taking on employees, and even fewer—none actually—were the sort of jobs suitable for Blaise. Young boys who could be apprenticed to learn a trade without pay had more choices than he, he mused grimly. Returning to France to fight for his inheritance might be his only option.

Heading back to Fanshawe & Sons, he noticed a tradesman’s carriage harnessed to a pair of black Percherons, Macclesfield Silks painted on the side. Inside, he found his brother and Louise poring over ells of colorful fabric arrayed on the counter, a stranger—presumably the silk merchant—running his hand over the wares.

“Thomas Pemberton,” he introduced himself after Benoît had presented him. “Grandson of Joseph, founder of Macclesfield Silks.”

Pemberton was middle-aged, a few streaks of gray in his dark hair, hazel eyes, and a jovial manner. He regarded Blaise with new respect when he heard of his military career.

“Served with the duke, did you? This country is in your debt, sir.” He tilted his head and regarded Blaise with furrowed brows. “So, what does a soldier with your experience do with himself after the war is over?”

Blaise grinned wryly. “I’m still looking for the answer to that, Pemberton. There doesn’t seem to be much of a use for soldiers in peacetime.”

“Thomas. Do call me Thomas.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Look, I may have something that will suit. I’m short an assistant at present, a traveling man to demonstrate our wares to shops like your brother’s.” He blew out a puff of air. “This,” he said waving at the wagon in front of the shop, “isn’t my strong suit and I’m needed at the mill. Is this something you could consider, for the present, at least? I might have something better in the future.”

Blaise’s eyes widened. “Certainly,” he said slowly, unwilling to dismiss any possibility. “But I don’t know much about silk.”

Thomas laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That can be rectified,” he asserted. “Come and see me in Macclesfield after the holiday, and I’ll show you around the mill, introduce you to the weavers, give you a bit of an apprenticeship. If it’s not to your taste, you’ll at least come away with a better acquaintance with the textile industry.”

Benoît and Louise looked at him hopefully. Blaise chuckled. “I can see you are already anticipating the discount for silk wares for the shop.”

Turning to Thomas, he held out an arm. “I’m honored to accept the offer, sir.”

Louise squealed, and Susana, needle and thread in hand, peeked out of her “office” to investigate. “Oh, the silks are here,” she exclaimed, misunderstanding the situation. “I can’t wait to see them! I shall be out as soon as I finish the hem on Miss Delphi’s dinner dress. I expect her momentarily for a final fitting.” She rushed back into her workroom.

Thomas appeared momentarily stunned by her appearance. Noticing his interest, Louise said helpfully, “That’s Susana, Miss Bigglesworth. She’s our modiste.”

Running his hands through his hair, Thomas swallowed. “I beg your pardon, but she looks familiar. Although I can’t place her. Or the name.”

“She’s from Harrogate,” Louise offered. “Comes from a family of ten sisters.”

“Ten!” Thomas’s eyes widened. But then he shook his head. “Doesn’t bring back anything. It’ll come to me, I suppose.”

He straightened his back and offered his hand first to Benoît and then to Blaise, subsequently tipping his hat for Louisa.

“I thank you for your business, sir,” he said to Benoît, and then to Blaise: “I’ll write you soon, Mr. Arquette, er, Blaise. We’ll expect to see you in Macclesfield after the New Year.”

“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” Blaise accompanied him out of the shop to the driver’s seat of the wagon, beginning to feel hopeful for the first time in a while.

Desperate Daughters

This story was written for the readers of the original version of Desperate Daughters who expressed concern over the absence of Susana’s story, since she played a key part in the other sisters’ stories.

Her story deserves to be told.

Susana Ellis is a retired teacher, part-time caregiver, sewist, cook, and fashion print collector. Lifelong reading and a fascination with history led her to writing historical romances.

After January 1, 2024:

To update your Kindle book version, go to Manage Your Content and Devices. Search for Desperate Daughters. If available, select Update Available, then select Update.)

Meet Miss Susana Bigglesworth

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!

A little bit of gossip goes a long way…

Lady Abigail Danvers set the quill down and stared at the letter she had been composing to Samuel Clemens, editor of the Teatime Tattler.

“I don’t know, Prudence.” Abigail gave a heavy sigh and handed over the parchment. “I just don’t think it has enough gossip in it to be worthy of what Clemen’s usually expects from us.”

Prudence took the letter and began to read aloud.

Gentle Readers;
This just in from York… Seen more than once in each other’s company, Viscount C and Lady S may just have a budding romance in the making. Will wedding bells be ringing the York Cathedral? Or maybe one of her stepdaughters will beat her to the altar. Only time will tell and you’ll read the latest news here first in the Teatime Tattler.

An Anonymous Reporter

Prudence tapped her finger to her chin. “It is rather boring, sister. Are you sure you couldn’t find any dirt on the pair?”

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think I tried? The Dowager Countess guards her stepdaughters like the fiercest of warriors, along with her own reputation?”

Prudence nodded. “I suppose given she’s trying to get them married off is a good reason to remain so guarded. What of Cranfield? Surely his reputation is slightly tarnished. Didn’t he have a mistress?”

“Old news. He let her go and paid off her accounts months ago before he arrived in York,” Abigail replied taking the letter and folding it. “He’s here to see that his sister finds a match. Since his arrival in York, I haven’t been able to turn anything up on him that might provide any newsworthy gossip.”

A frown marred Prudence’s brow. “Then I guess this will have to do. Send it off to Clemens. Hopefully, he won’t be too disappointed and still publish the piece —”

“—and continue to pay us for whatever tittle tattle we can dig up in the future,” Abigail finished before going to the bell cord to summon a servant to deliver her latest news.


This is an original piece by Belle Sherry Ewing. Richard, Viscount Cranfield and Patience, Lady Seahaven are in her novella, A Countess To Remember in the Belles’ boxset, Desperate Daughters. Continue to read on to learn more along with our ongoing contest!

Excerpt:

The unseen woman was still in the carriage, as if she was still preparing to collect whatever had been left behind. A small dainty shoe poked out onto the edge of the step and Richard heard her heavy sigh that she made no attempt to mask.

Richard stepped forward, offering his hand. “May I be of assistance, my lady?”

“You are most kind,” the lady inside said. She put her hand in his and Richard swore he felt a tingling sensation rush up his arm.

“Where are my manners?” Lady Barbara exclaimed. “May I introduce my stepmother, Patience, Lady Seahaven. Patience, this is Lord Cranfield and his sister Lady Josephine.”

Richard was prepared for a matronly woman to reveal herself as she alit from the carriage. But when she lifted her head once upon solid ground to acknowledge their introductions, he was unprepared for the young beauty he faced. Blue-grey eyes that could rival the sky above met his. Wisps of strawberry blonde hair had escaped her bonnet while her porcelain skin was set in a lovely round face. But when her small bow mouth turned up into an enchanting smile, Richard became lost.

“Lord Cranfield,” her voice reached into his soul. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Richard bowed, completely bewildered in the spell she had captured him in with just one glance. At a loss for words, he could only stare at the woman before him, even while he continued to hold her hand in his. What had she done to him?


Desperate Daughters: A Bluestocking Belles and Friends Collection
Release Date: May 17, 2022
Preorder for only $0.99

Here’s the blurb for Sherry Ewing’s contribution to the set, A Countess To Remember:

Sometimes love finds you when you least expect it…

Patience, Dowager Countess of Seahaven cares for a bevy of stepdaughters and a Season for each to find husbands seems out of reach. With her own young daughter to care for, there’s been no chance for romance for herself. She’s been so busy worrying about putting food on the table, that finding love is the last of her concerns.

Richard, Viscount Cranfield is in York to see to his sister’s Season. He has no desire to find a wife despite his parents prodding him to do so. A chance encounter with a countess leaves him wondering what spell she has cast around him.

Will Patience and Richard find enough time to allow love to fill their hearts?

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About Belle Sherry Ewing:

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 and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. 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 and her books on her website where a new adventure awaits you on every page at www.SherryEwing.com.

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Riot at Reform Meeting–Militia Called in to Keep Peace

From Our Yorkshire Correspondent

A meeting held today in York ended in a riot, which was put down by a troop of militia. The meeting was well attended by a wide variety of people, including a number who might properly be called ladies and gentlemen. The first speaker, who spoke at length on the iniquities of the legislation suspending habeas corpus, was allowed to complete his oration unmolested. Possibly because he had put his audience to sleep.

It was not so for the second speaker, whose fiery oration on the topic of rotten boroughs had barely started when it was cut off by a flying vegetable, and then several such projectiles. Several in the crowd took exception to the missile throwing, and within moments, the hall was in chaos, with some scurrying for safety and others wading into the fight.

Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, some say because of the arrival of armed militia men and others despite this intervention. Several ladies were spirited out the door by burly footmen, one was  escorted away by a clergyman, and  yet another was rescued from the middle of the riot by a gentleman who proved to be Lord D F. This gentleman is not only an army officer (retired) but also the scion of a noble house and a protege (some say a half-brother) of a notable duke who, before his marriage and his elevation to the title, often entertained readers of this paper with his amours.

Our readers will stare when they learn that lady our officer saved — first from the rioters and then from the militia — had no maid with her but was accompanied by a monkey!

Several reputable observers claim that those who lobbed the first object were not reformers at all, but rather pro-Government trouble-makers, or possibly even paid agitators sent to cause trouble. Certainly there can be no greater evidence of the innocence of at least some of those who attended than the little lady with the winsome smile and her mischievious simian. Who, after all, would take a monkey to a riot?

One hopes that the young lord’s patron will receive a scathing denunciation of the government’s tactics in denying Englishmen (and women) their right to meet in peaceful discussion.

One also hopes that we will find out the names of the young lady and her pet, and whether the first meeting we observed between her and Lord D F was followed by further meetings in pleasanter circumstances.

This reform meeting appears in “Lord Cuckoo Comes Home”, Jude Knight’s contribution to the Desperate Daughters box set.

Please do buy the book. Nine wonderful stories in 772 pages, only 99c for the ebook until the week of publication.

Read more and find buy links here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/desperate-daughters/

 

Suspicious Behavior in York

Dear Euphemia,

Can you enlighten me about the boisterous clan of Bigglesworth women that have invaded York Society this Season? The younger daughters are being launched (one might say cast upon us) and are being feted hither and yon as “the Seahaven Diamonds.” Anyone who is anyone scurried about hoping for invitations to the grand ball they hosted to celebrate said launch, though my own invitation went astray. But that is neither here nor there.

York is virtually crawling with Bigglesworth women. One cannot pay a morning call on a friend without encountering two or three of them, as if they travel in packs. One encounters them in the shops. Some were seen dragging some poor bored children along the walls for a history lecture. Others are rather too cozy with the horse racing scene. Always they are dressed fashionably, which leads one to wonder. How are they managing the expense?

You live near Starbrook and are quite cozy (or so you claim) with the new Earl of Seahaven’s Dear Wife. You gave me the impression in times past that the earl left the widowed countess with little or nothing. How did that chit, the former countess—the fifth wife in a row who failed to produce a male child—manage a season for all those stepdaughters, even the ones clearly on the shelf? Can you enlighten me?

One wonders whether one ought to befriend some or all, or even if one ought to receive them. As if the number and questionable situation weren’t enough, morals are in question. My maid heard a story from our footman who took ale with another footman, one that had been hired by the Bigglesworths—temporarily, mind you, to handle the undiscerning crowds that descended on them after their ball. That person testified that at least one of those young women was seen creeping out of a closet with her clothing askew and her hair out of place in the company of Viscount Stanbeck’s shabby younger brother who purports to be a curate. What must they teach young clergy these days?

Do write back quickly. The Season moves swiftly, and that baggage and her tribe of daughters are everywhere. Ought I avoid them?

Sir William, my dear husband, sends his regards.

Yours

Marian, Lady Smithers

About the Book: Desperate Daughters

Love Against the Odds

The Earl of Seahaven desperately wanted a son and heir but died leaving nine daughters and a fifth wife. Cruelly turned out by the new earl, they live hand-to-mouth in a small cottage.

The young dowager Countess’s one regret is that she cannot give Seahaven’s dear girls a chance at happiness.

When a cousin offers the use of her townhouse in York during the season, the Countess rallies her stepdaughters.

They will pool their resources so that the youngest marriageable daughters might make successful matches, thereby saving them all.

So start their adventures in York, amid a whirl of balls, lectures, and al fresco picnics. Is it possible each of them might find love by the time the York horse races bring the season to a close.

Among them?  “Lady Dorothea’s Curate,” by Caroline Warfield

Employed at a hotel in order to assist her stepmother, Lady Dorothea Bigglesworth had no use for a title. It would only invite scorn, or, worse, pity. Plain Miss Doro Bigglesworth suited her fine.

Ben Clarke dedicated his life to helping the neediest. It gave his life meaning. He tended to forget the younger son of a viscount went by “Honorable.”

Working together at Pilgrim’s Rest, neither saw the need to mention it to the other, before fate separated them. When they were formally introduced after an unexpected reunion— in a ballroom in York—shock rocked them both. Can their budding love survive?

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