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Tag: enemies to lovers

Shocking scene at Duchess’s ball. Duke discloses dirty secret.

What can one say about the shocking events at a certain important charity ball yesterday evening. The host is well known to our readers, not only for his loyal service to the Crown and his devoted care of his estates, but also for his scandalous behaviour with actresses, other men’s wives and, indeed, it is rumoured, many other females in every level society.

Much is forgiven a man who is wealthy beyond the wildest dreams of most people, and who holds, besides, one of the highest ranks outside of the Royal Family. Indeed, Royal blood runs in the veins of the man they call the Duke of Haveandhold.

Will this latest start be forgiven, we wonder? You will remember, dear reader, recent speculation in this newspaper about the identity of the man who was caught in the shrubbery with the mother of London’s latest reigning beauty. The lovely young wife of the Marquess of T. was born nine months the scandalous discovery and seven months after her mother’s hasty marriage to a man who had not been in London at the time. Until last night, no one knew who had taken the innocence of that young lady so many years ago. Taken her innocence and walked away, furthermore.

Last night, the mystery was solved. The Duke of H. informed the entire ballroom, including all the interested parties, that he was the marchioness’s father. Not, we grant you, in so many words, but his meaning was clear. As was his threat against any who spoke ill of the young lady.

Far be it from us to criticise any young lady for the sins of her father. We wish the marchioness well. That the duke will find forgiveness in public goes without saying. He is far too powerful to offend. We do wonder, however, what the Duchess of Haverford had to say about the matter in private.

***

The Sincerest Flattery

When Percival Lord Thornstead heads to the far north of England to meet the bride his father has arranged for him to marry, bad weather, the ague and a crooked valet disrupt his travel plans. Turned away at the door of the manor, he takes a job minding sheep to stay close.

Lady Aurelia Byrne sneaks away from the house dressed as a kitchen maid. She is angry at being told she must marry someone she has never met. She’d rather marry the shepherd she meets in the fields than the London fop her father has chosen for her.

Percy guesses who Lia is and is charmed. Lia discovers who Percy is and falls in love. If not for Lia’s overbearing mother all would be perfect.

Then Percy’s father intervenes to carry Lia off to London to make her debut with Percy’s sister. She is having the time of her life when her mother makes public accusations that call her reputation into question. A hasty marriage restores her to favor. Deep in the throes of love, the young couple are blissfully happy, and have fashionable London at their feet.

Until a former mistress of Percy’s comes seeking a boon that takes him away from Lia’s side, and old rumors about Lia’s mother are revived, causing Lia to be shunned by the highest sticklers. Their marriage will be tested to breaking point.

(This is a book in A Twist Upon a Regency Tale, and is inspired by The Goose Girl.)

Excerpt from The Sincerest Flattery

Lia felt her confidence slip two dances later when she and Percy stood out with his family for a dance, and the Duke of Haverford approached, escorting his wife with a raised hand under hers, as if they were about to approach the King or enter the dance.

“Lady Kirkland, Dellborough,” Haverford greeted them. The gentlemen all bowed and the ladies curtseyed. Gwen and Lia dropped into a full court curtsey in honor of the duchess. Even Aunt Enid’s curtsey was a little deeper than usual.

“This little puss must be yours, Dellborough,” said Haverford, putting his hand under Gwen’s chin and forcing her to look up at him. Lia, who was always conscious of her husband, saw him stiffen with outrage.

“Lady Guinevere Versey, my treasured eldest daughter.” The Duke of Dellborough’s voice was pure ice and Haverford withdrew his hand.

There was a glint of mischief in his eyes as he commented, “I do not know which is more likely to wound, on my oath, Dell. Your voice or your minx’s eyes. Both are cold enough to be lethal.” Then, in a change of mood, “You look like your mother, Lady Guinevere. She was a fine lady. Loyal and true, as well as beautiful. You can be proud to be her daughter.”

“I am, Your Grace,” Gwen said, with another beautiful curtsey.

Haverford turned his attention to Lia. “And whom have we here?”

Percy spoke up, addressing the Duchess of Haverford. “Your Grace, may I make known to you my wife, Lady Thornstead.”

Lia curtseyed again, and looked into kind hazel eyes.

“Lady Thornstead, I am pleased to meet you,” said the duchess. “I was a friend of your mother-in-law and have long taken an interest in her sons and daughters. From this day, I shall count you as one of them.”

The glint in her husband’s eyes sparked brighter. “The relationship is closer than you might think, my dear. Since you have seen fit to bring one reminder of my peccadillos under my roof, you can hardly object to me acknowledging another.”

At the flare of alarm in the lady’s eyes, and in her own father-in-law’s, Lia realized that the Duchess of Haverford had not been warned about the proposed announcement, but it was too late. The duke had already signaled the orchestra, and the room had fallen silent. They were close to the bottom of the stairs, and the duke leapt up three of them until he could be seen across the room.

“My friends, I have another announcement to make tonight. I am speaking particularly to those of you who have been tossing gossip around for weeks about one of this year’s debutantes—some would say this year’s most successful debutante, since she was the first married and to the undoubted catch of the season. Aurelia, come here.”

He held out his hand, and Lia saw no choice, but was glad when Percy clasped hands with her and came too.

“Ah! I get two for the price of one,” said the Duke of Haverford. “When my old friend Dellborough asked me to extend my influence and friendship to this charming lady, I wondered at the relationship myself, for a man of my age has many pleasant memories to look back over on a quiet evening.” He grinned at the audience, who were leaning forward in their eagerness to hear more.

“Some are unforgettable, however.” He kissed his hand towards the left, and Lia saw, to her horror, that her mother and Lord Harrowby stood there, a gap widening about them as the crowd drew away.

“So, it is my pleasure to announce that I freely acknowledge my special interest in this lovely young lady, daughter-in-law to the Duke of Dellborough and wife to Lord Thornstead here. The particulars are of no importance to anyone except those involved.” He stopped for the murmur that washed through the crowd as Mama’s face whitened and Lord Harrowby’s reddened.

Haverford changed mood again, the mischief disappearing and the arrogant autocrat rising to the surface. “That being the case, know this. Speak ill of this young lady or her husband, and face the wrath of two dukes, a marquess,” he pointed to Percy, and added in a confiding tone, “—who is a pup, but pups grow and so do their teeth—and an earl.” The last gesture was to Lord Harrowby.

“Not to mention the distaff side,” he added, nodding to Lady Harrowby, and then to Aunt Enid. He also held out a hand to Her Grace.

The duchess took the challenge, climbing the stairs and allowing the duke to bow mockingly over her fingers. “A wise man, or woman, would not discount the distaff side,” she said, her voice ringing clearly over the ballroom as her husband’s had before her. She then kissed Aurelia on the cheek, murmuring, “Welcome to the family.”

Dellborough and Aunt Enid joined them, adding their visual weight to the message. Defy the Haverfords and the Dellboroughs at your peril. As far as it went, that was a good thing, but the Duke of Haverford was a chancy ally. Lia could see he had used the opportunity to settle scores with the Harrowbys and his own wife. Probably with the Duke of Dellborough, too.

Rival Authors Clash At Sommer-by-the-Sea

Expressly for The Teatime Tattler

The Teatime Tattler has just confirmed that Lady Alicia Hartley has arrived in Sommer-by-the-Sea and will be reading from her new novel, The Lost Dowry at Mrs. Miller’s Circulating Library. Many of us have long waited for this her fifth book. I must tell you some doubted Lady Alicia would travel to the village in the horrid winter weather, but also in light of her novels recent review posted in the London Gazette. It was a blatant attack on Lady Alicia’s writing expertise. You would think the acclaim (and sales) of the other novels in this series would indicate the prowess of this amazing author.

Who is the reviewer who tarnishes her reputation and then hides behind the name Anonymous.  To add insult to injury, this reviewer has the audacity to spend half the review comparing Lady Alicia’s work to another author.

This would all be just a literary issue, but I am here to tell you we must rally behind our girl. I have it from a very reliable source that Lady Alicia is not the only author who will be reading on at the circulating library. No, my dear friends. The other author mentioned in the review will be attending as well.

Will there be sparks? One can only hope. Mrs. Miller has scheduled the reading for Tuesday at 4:00. I, for one, will be there.

The Lady and Her Quill

Her mind kept telling her to stop loving him, but her heart couldn’t let him go.

Renowned author Lady Alicia Hartley has lost her muse after a bad review. She blames it all on the author JC Melrose. A chance encounter with a handsome, witty Justin Caulfield has her heart racing, and her muse seemingly back. Is he her savior or her worst nightmare?

He didn’t see the turbulent ocean. He was too busy dealing with a different tempest.

The recently retired Captain Justin Caulfield is facing his own demons. As gifted author JC Melrose, his stories honor men who died at the hand of one man. His only focus is to avenge their deaths, that is, until he meets and falls in love with Lady Alicia.

The two authors take on a writing challenge based on a story of stolen gold taken from the newspaper headlines all to determine the better writer. While researching the story, Lady Alicia is captured by the thieves’ ringleader. Can Lady Alicia turn this mystery into an award-winning story? Can Justin save his real-life heroine? Can they both overcome their own challenges for a happily ever after?

Available at Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt

Alicia looked at the women. They had all been close ever since they were Mrs. Bainbridge’s charges and remained that way long after graduating. This was the one place they were themselves without reproach or censure.

“Tea, if I may. Ladies, nothing pleases me more than your concern and friendship. My sister and her husband had to leave without me. I had work to do in London. When I was ready to leave, the weather stopped the passenger coaches, and I missed the mail coach. That is the reason for my unplanned sea voyage.” With her hands now warm, well, at least she was able to flex her fingers, she turned and faced them.

“That is all very distressing,” Anna said.

“I would be happy if that were all, but it’s obvious I also have an enemy.” She took the cup of tea from Mrs. Bainbridge and sat next to Pat who ate a small cake with butter icing.

“Enemy. What happened?” Her friends stopped with whatever they were fussing and were abuzz with questions.

Alicia removed a scrap of paper from her reticule and handed it to Anna. “Read it if you like. The last paragraph is most insulting.”

Anna read the article aloud. Alicia stared at nothing in particular. The words didn’t sound any better when someone else read them.

“This last paragraph isn’t terrible.” Anna handed the paper to Effie who wiped cake crumbs off her fingers on the linen before she took the scrap.

“Anonymous ended my review talking about another author.” Alicia swirled her spoon in her teacup tapping the sides in a frantic rhythmic beat.

“Be careful, dear. You’ll crack the china,” Mrs. Bainbridge said.

Alicia stopped mid-stir. Removed the spoon. And put it to the side.

“You don’t take constructive criticism well,” Pat said picking crumbs off her plate and eating them. “That’s all this is. Your heroine was brave and her hero daring. The story was deeply romantic.”

“Pat.” Effie covered her friend’s hand with her own. “Ever since you met George everything to you is romantic.”

Pat smiled as Effie took another bit of cake. “Everything George does is…romantic.”

Alicia coughed, choking on her tea.

“Oh, my. Are you all right?” Pat asked, pounding Alicia on her back.

“You’re so wicked, Pat,” Anna said.

“Just taking a lesson from Alicia’s heroine.” The devilish glow in Pat’s eyes could not be missed. “I thought that dialogue was good when I read it. Is it plagiarism if you quote dialogue from a story?”

Alicia shook her head, a large smile on her face.

“Do you have any idea who wrote the review?” Mrs. Bainbridge asked.

“Not at all.” Alicia took another sip of tea. Her insides were warming.

“Is the reviewer possibly another author?” Hattie asked.

“I haven’t given it much thought.” Alicia stared at Hattie over her teacup.

Hattie took the article. She opened a wooden box that hung on the wall exposing a dart board and pinned the newspaper in the center. She removed three darts from their case.

“Your turn.” Hattie offered her the white darts, Alicia’s favorites. “I made sure the word ‘anonymous’ is in the center.”

Alicia put down her cup and took the darts, stood a good distance from the board and aimed. The dart board was a relic from the previous owner of the house. Mrs. Bainbridge encouraged her girls to take aim at their problems, literally and figuratively. If questioned about the dart board’s use, the appropriate response was the girls were building their hand-eye coordination.

Of course, she’d given thought to anonymous’ identity. She’d been thinking about who the critic was ever since she read the review.

She let loose her first dart. It hit the capital A in anonymous.

Excited to hand in her new manuscript to Caulfield, she hardly tasted her breakfast. There was enough time for her to deliver her story and be back in time to leave with her sister and family for the journey here. Everything was going well until she stepped inside Caulfield Publishing.

As soon as she walked into his office, she knew something was wrong. The man was not neat, but the disarray was beyond the pale. She noticed the review when she handed him the paper.

She took aim and let the second dart fly. This one landed on the next letter, n.

Reviews like this are…not unusual. I’ve happily published your little stories. Keep in mind, you can’t please every reader.”

He wants to put off publishing her next book until the summer. Based on one review. One review. How could he?

She didn’t take time to aim the last dart. As fast as she lifted it, she let it loose. It nested with her other two. Alicia removed the darts, returned them to their case and closed the board, but not before she removed the article. Alicia handed the scrap of paper to Hattie.

“No, you keep it.” Hattie waved her away. “Put holes in his review just as you did in the paper it is printed on.”

She returned to her seat and took another sip of tea feeling much better.

“Thank you, Hattie. I feel like myself again.”

Mr. Caulfield wasn’t at all pleased when she told him she had yet to decide if she was going to submit her next book to him. She should have told him then and there about the letter from William Lane.

She stayed in London for two days after Beatrice and Elkington left going through every word of The Lost Dowry trying to make sense of the reviewer’s comments. Her heroine didn’t have to be the only one to succeed. The hero could have been more… heroic. She stared off into the room.

What made her expect to succeed? Anonymous certainly didn’t think she should.

“Alicia, are you listening to me?” Effie asked.

“Obviously not. She’s off in her world planning another great adventure,” Anna said.

Alicia put her cup on the small table next to the chair.

“Of course. I’m listening.”

“Have you read any of J. C. Melrose’s stories?”

The mere mention of the author’s name made her blood boil. To think her closest friend would suggest such a thing. Alicia got to her feet so fast she nearly knocked Effie over.

“Traitor.”

Effie grabbed her arm before Alicia walked away.

“No. Listen to me. You remember when Mr. Lindsay was teaching us about the Romans and why they were so successful?” Effie said with quiet yet determined firmness.

Alicia stopped a bit confused.

“Romans? What are you after? I could care less about the Romans at the moment.”

Alicia stared at her friend, waiting for her to finish her thought. How was this line of thinking relevant?

“Know your enemy,” Anna said from across the room.

“Precisely.” Effie’s face filled with triumph. “Why did this reviewer who was too much of a coward to take credit for his work, make the comment? The way you find out is by reading J. C. Melrose’s story.”

Effie’s idea was worthy. Alicia lowered herself back into her chair. More than worthy. 

About the Author

There was never a time when USA Today Bestseller, RUTH A. CASIE hasn’t had a story in her head. When she was little, she and her older sister would dress up and act out the ones Ruth created. Today, Ruth writes exciting and beautifully told legendary historical romances, medieval, Regency, time travel, and contemporary romantic suspense that are both rich and engaging. Her stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Her stories are full of, ‘edge of your seat’ suspense, mind-boggling drama, and a forever-after romance.

She lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at an international bank where she was a vice president in a product/ marketing manager role, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. Ruth hopes her stories become your favorite adventures.

Where You Can Find Ruth:

At her website:  https://ruthacasie.com/

Sign up for her newsletter:  http://bit.ly/RuthsNewsletterSignUp

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

Facebook at Casie Café: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963711677128537/

Facebook Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/ruthacasie

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-a-casie

On the Books at Whites: Gentleman Rides Side-Saddle?

Whom Colonel Thoroton will marry has been as prolific a topic in the receiving room of every marriageable miss’s mother as it has in the betting books. After all, it’s not everyday that a man comes into possession of an estate as grand as Flintham Hall at only four-and-twenty.

But no purported wager could possibly be more ludicrous than the one rumored to have begun at White’s: Mr. Paling will learn to ride side-saddle before the Colonel becomes engaged.

Whatever shall they think of next?

Mr. Paling would do better if he turned his attention to pursuing females rather than learning to ride like them. Why, it has been years since he has been spotted dancing, in spite of his frequent attendance at Almack’s. A disgrace, if you ask me, his immaculately-tied cravat notwithstanding. And this is the gentleman sent to Nottinghamshire to force Colonel Thoroton out of mourning and into the marriage-mart where he belongs? Let us hope, for all our sakes, that Mr. Paling loses his bet and they both end up engaged before the year’s end.

Anonymous Annie,
Teatime Tattler Guest Correspondent

An Engagement of Sorts

Much to her mother’s dismay, spirited Anne Fletcher is more comfortable in breeches than ball gowns. But when she finds herself facing marriage to a man she does not love, Anne grasps at her last vestige of independence, setting in motion a desperate plan. Now all she needs is a man willing to masquerade as her fiancé.

Buylink: https://www.amazon.com/Engagement-Sorts-Alene-Wecker-ebook/dp/B093S2LBMM 

Excerpt:

My freedom was short-lived, for though I had been able to stretch my knees and ankles in the carriage, my hips had remained at the same angle for far too long; they were less enthusiastic to be put to sudden use. They buckled, causing me to fall face-first into what had once been a gentleman’s carefully tied black cravat.

A rather ungentlemanly voice released an oath. “Sakes alive, hussy, watch what you are about.” The uncouth man had reacted to my assault by bringing both hands to my shoulders and pushing me back until my chest rested over my own torso rather than on his. “If I had a pound for every woman who threw herself at me, I could make my own fortune.” He unhanded me like I might have lice. I looked upward into the gentleman’s—no, Colonel Thoroton’s—scowl.

His frosty look could have frozen the sun, but it flamed my pride. And unlike last time, the threat of Mother’s censure could not protect him from my wrath. “Firstly, I would never throw myself at a gentleman—obviously in name only—who is incapable of coming to my aid and instead treats me like a flea-bitten cur.” I ticked one gloved finger out at him. “Secondly, if I had thrown myself at you, I would have broken your nose rather than crumpling your oriental, which would have served you right as your nose seems bent out of shape for naught. Thirdly—”

Raucous laughter cut off my diatribe. Mr. Paling stood near, cloaked in his usual persona of gaiety and nonchalance.

In strict contrast, the colonel’s tone grew menacing as he spit out each word. “It was a mathematical, not an oriental.”

“Yes, well.” I tried to re-enact his rude turn of voice; I didn’t care if he was the emperor of China. No one spoke to me like this. “I am a lady, not a hussy. Yours was the greater blunder.”

Meet Alene Wecker

Debut novelist Alene Wecker stumbled into the profession quite by accident; she had only meant to entertain herself during a banal bout of bedrest. But the characters in her head wouldn’t leave her alone until she gave them space on the page. She hopes you will be as entertained by her characters’ antics as she was.

As a mother, voice teacher, and opera singer, she must have a penchant for fun but poorly-paid professions. She likes to pretend that her experience and master’s degree in vocal performance come in handy as she describes debutantes who, like herself, speak several languages and are frequently forced to display their mediocre skills at the pianoforte.

website: https://www.alenewecker.com/

facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAlene

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