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Another Season For Lady J

Three years after The Bachelor Duke was taken off the market

London 1824

Here we are again! Another exciting Season! Every year, eager debutants and reluctant gentlemen come together with one common goal. Marriage! Or perhaps other pursuits. Ladies that are new to the London Season shan’t fret over the possibility of finding a suitable husband. The numerous success stories of our past are an inspiration to all mothers and daughters.

The most successful love story of the last three seasons is that of the former Lady O and The Bachelor Duke, although now that name has been long gone for years. When Lady O arrived with her exuberant cousin, Lady J, she was all anyone could speak of … and not in a good way. There were those who believed that she was too plump, too round in the hips to win such a man as the Duke of K, but she soon proved everyone wrong! I, for one, never doubted her for a second!

It’s been three years since the marriage of the century and the heart. The now Duchess of K has become a bit of a celebrity throughout society. Especially after the ordeal she survived after her first season. Oh, the horror!

In spite of the exciting first Season, Her Grace has excelled in every endeavor that has been presented to her. A kindhearted philanthropist, she often contributes to the poor, both in London, and on their country estate in Norwich. Whatever endeavor she tackles next, it is sure to be a great one, now if only her cousin, Lady J, could repair her ruined reputation!

Let’s hope that now that a new Season has begun, Lady J finds what she lost three years past, but I’m sure opportunity like the one she had will not come around again. Rumor has it a new bachelor will soon be arriving in town.

Let the fun begin!

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Excerpt from The Bachelor Duke:

“Let me assure you that I find every single inch of you pleasing, and I cannot wait until the day I may call you mine.” Remington’s lips pressed to hers. His free arm encircled her waist and pulled her closer to him. A groan of pleasure escaped him. Livie was excited, knowing she was the one that caused him to react in such a way. He brushed his lips softly against hers, allowing her time to become accustomed. She relaxed in his arms. Her lips parted, releasing a sigh of contentment. Taking her bottom lip into his own, he sucked gently, before gliding his silky tongue along it. Livie whimpered, the pure ecstasy of his lips touching hers was a feeling she had never felt in her life. His hand spread wide on her lower back branding her through the fabric of her dress. “Remington,” she sighed against his lips, hearing voices all around them. She wanted to stop the madness with all of society just on the other side of the curtain. But she could only grasp his lapels and hold on tight as she opened to him, allowing him the freedom to devour her.

About the Author

Cecilia Rene is a creative, happy, and outgoing Detroit native who majored in Broadcast Communication at Grambling State University. Immediately following her graduation, she started her new life in New York City. As a self-proclaimed New Yorker, her stimulating and diverse career in advertising sparked a drive for hard work and dedication. Her love and passion for writing followed her from childhood through adulthood, where she wrote short stories, poems, and screenplays. Always an avid reader, she stumbled across a book that ignited a deeper need for more and joined a fandom of like-minded individuals. Cecilia and her family made a huge move five years ago to the great state of Texas, where she currently lives with her loving husband, wonderful son, and spoiled fur baby, Sadie. Cecilia Rene loves romance, humor, and all things spicy. For this reason, she will always give you a Happily Ever After.

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But He’s Not a Gentleman

This letter has fallen into the hands of your Teatime Tattler editors. We trust our readers will find it of interest.

From Mrs. Letitia Piggott-Pym, Berkeley Square, London

To Miss Lorena Ogilvy, Vine Cottage, Sussex

Dear Sister,

At the close of this most successful Season, I am delighted to report that not only have we secured an entirely satisfactory husband for Arabella, but that our future son-in-law, if somewhat lacking in the matter of a chin, more than makes up for it in family connection and social distinction.

But I will confess that for a time our prospects appeared somewhat less propitious when Bella (along with several silly girls of her set) conceived a sudden tendre for a certain Mr. Merion – a development which, as you can imagine, Mr. Piggott-Pym and I found not a little worrisome.

In particular, dear Lorena, it simply wasn’t possible to refuse to receive Mr. Merion. He is a protégé of Viscount Crowden, not only having saved the viscount’s life during a terrible battle at sea, but being quite excessively attractive, looking just as one wishes one’s national heroes to look, as, sadly, they rarely do. War, after all, will cause disfiguring scars, burns, and amputations, but Mr. Merion’s wound is of the more decorative variety. In truth, the nearly imperceptible limp with which he walks, aided by a masterfully wielded cane, can only fan the flames of patriotic virtue among the girls, and perhaps, at times, even within the bosoms of their Mamas.

Not to speak of the fit of his coat, and even what might discern beneath…

But I digress; and in my meanderings have nearly forgotten to add that Mr. Merion is quite rich, or well on his way to becoming so. Of course, a lady doesn’t speak overmuch of such matters, but I am assured that he’s highly respected as a commercial investor in properties in certain neighborhoods. And although one wouldn’t venture to such quarters oneself, Mr. Piggott-Pym tells me that large sums of money may be made there in rents to a certain class of person.

Which brings me finally to the inescapable truth, that as ornamental an addition as Mr. Merion had made to one’s guest list – for his aforementioned assets and as proof of patriotism on the part of his hosts – the fact remains that Mr. Merion was not born a gentleman, and in fact served in His Majesty’s Royal Navy as a common sailor. And although this did not stop certain families from countenancing his attentions to their daughters, I can assure you that Mr. Piggott-Pym and I felt very differently…

And so in consequence, it was no surprise to find ourselves quite vindicated by the most shocking, interesting, and entertaining development… when a week ago, without a word of explanation or apology to any of his generous and condescending new connections, and leaving several dinner parties horribly lopsided, Mr. Merion quite entirely, and inexplicably, disappeared

ABOUT THE BOOK: A House East of Regent Street

The future looks bright for former sailor Jack Merion. His wartime heroics have won him influential contacts, and his good looks and flair for business are definite assets. With funds to invest, he’s on the brink of financial success in the high-stakes world of Regency London.

And buying the house in Soho Square is a can’t-miss opportunity. Once a fashionable brothel, the property will yield a good income in commercial rents and a clear path to the respectable life Jack has never known.

There’s only one problem – another prospective buyer. With a dark past, a desperate future, and some unmistakable assets of her own, Miss Cléo Myles is a formidable obstacle, one that Jack would be wise to steer clear of.

But instead, he proposes a bargain that’s as scandalous as it is irresistible.

Five afternoons. Five rooms. Uncountable pleasures…

…In a neighborhood that’s seen better days. And a house that’s seen everything except love.

An Excerpt

Woman, rather than lady.

Unless, Jack supposed, one knew how to pronounce the word lady with a certain ambiguity – a tone of voice like a wink or smirk exchanged with the other men in the room, to show that one really meant quite the opposite. A courtesan. Or even better, the French phrase Lord Crowden had taught him – trust the French to come up with an expression like grande horizontale. He himself had never encountered such a woman at first hand, and so he’d never been quite sure of all the nuances of implication.

But this… ah, lady could quickly fill the gaps in his education. He need only contemplate her posture and manner of address; it would be like memorizing an entire lexicon – of new uses for ordinary words that Miss Myles’s extraordinary presence had suddenly rendered inadequate.

One couldn’t, for example, exactly say she was small: not with her posture so regal that only the proximity of the lanky servant called attention to her lack of stature. Slender? He doubted that the possessor of such a voluptuous bosom could correctly be called slender. She was hardly young but it wouldn’t do to call her old either; the word ageless came to mind, but here his common sense rebelled. No woman was ageless – her youth, or lack of it, was always a critical index of her value.

Beautiful? He wasn’t quite sure – he’d always thought that beauty brought with it a comforting, disinterested sort of serenity. Well, striking, then, Miss Myles was certainly that. Sparkling eyes slanted catlike above well-drawn cheekbones; her mouth was expressive, the sinuous upper lip curving in a wary half-smile above the full, appetitive lower one. The afternoon sunlight seemed to embrace her as its own, her bright eyes and creamy skin outshining the brilliance even of these surroundings.

And oddly dignified, Jack thought, dignified and defiant – though world-weary might have been a more accurate word…

Release Date October 6, 2020 – Available for Preorder Now

FOR BUY LINKS, go to

About the Author

Author of historical romances set during the English Regency and before the French Revolution, Pam Rosenthal has been praised for her graceful style as well as her writing’s unabashed eroticism. She was twice nominated for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award, and in 2009 her novel The Edge of Impropriety won the RITA for Best Historical Romance. Find out more about Pam and her books at pamrosenthal.com, on Twitter @pamrosenthal, on Facebook, and on Goodreads.

“Elegant, tender, and daring… Pam Rosenthal has an impeccable sense of the Regency and a fearless way with a story.” – Julie Anne Long, USA Today Bestselling Author

Scandalous Reports From Yorkshire

10 January 1818

Our ears have been turned this week to news of Mr. G.A., that Darling of the Debutantes these two Seasons past. Not one, not two, but fully three Society Ladies of unquestioned veracity passed these tidbits of information to the Tattler staff on condition of anonymity. Their source is another Lady of like reputation, residing in Yorkshire’s West Riding, and reported to be an Intimate Friend of the A. family.

It seems that the aforementioned Mr. A.’s flirtations with Society’s Innocents may have been less Innocent than Society believed them to be. To that Lady’s certain knowledge, at least one fair Damsel has suffered Disastrous Consequences as a result of a Dalliance with this Knave of Hearts.

The Lady sent her letters, she told her friends, because they, or perhaps other families with whom they are acquainted, have their own Daughters eagerly anticipating a first Season in Town, and the Source would want no other Young Lady to suffer in like fashion. Beyond that, she asked that the information should be kept private. The recipients feel, however, that all families in such a position, whether known to them or not, ought to have the benefit of the scandalous reports contained in these paragraphs. The Tattler applauds the Generous Spirit behind their act of Public Service. ‘Tis small enough punishment for the Perpetrator of such Sins to have them announced to the Fashionable Society of which he purports to be a part.

Curiously, just three weeks past this paper announced the betrothal of Mr. L.A., younger son of the same family, to Miss S. of Bristol, who made her London Debut during the Spring Season of last year. A coincidence indeed that this provincial family, making its first appearance in these pages, should be mentioned twice in such a short time, to such different effect.

About the Book: Anna’s Refuge

Ruined by one brother. Redeemed by the other.

From the glitter of Regency London…

Knowing little of love, Anna Spain arrives for her one and only Season yearning for love. It’s surely fate when she falls for charming, handsome Gideon Aubrey—but when he spurns her in public, after seducing her with lies, she must find a way to support herself and her baby, or abandon the innocent child to the horrors of the workhouse.

To the grit of industrial Leeds…

For Lewis Aubrey, who has grown up under Gideon’s malignant shadow, there’s never been anyone but Anna Spain. Infuriated by his brother’s treatment of the woman he adores, Lewis steps in to shield her. He thinks he might even court her himself—until one day, without a word, she’s gone.

In a winter of impossible choices…

Can a heartbroken young mother learn to love again? Can her would-be hero endure raising the child of a brother he hates? Can one fragile infant bring these two splintered souls a second chance at love in rural Wrackwater Bridge?

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An excerpt

What was wrong with Gideon? He had a swagger about him tonight, and his eyes gleamed with devilry. Almost with evil.

Anna forced a laugh and shook her head. It was only a bit of mischief. “Oh, you’re teasing again, Mr. Aubrey.”

She would have gone on, making light of it, but Miss Landrum tossed a careless smile at no one in particular and tugged on Gideon’s arm.

“Beauty calls,” Gideon said with a grin. He stepped toward the dance floor with Miss Landrum.

“But, Mr.—” Anna couldn’t breathe. She lurched forward, reaching out to him. He never looked back.

Miss Wedbury put an arm around her waist, drawing her into the protection of their little flock. “It won’t do any good, I’m afraid.”

“But I… He…”

“Shhh,” Miss Wedbury hissed at her. To the others, she said, “People are starting to notice. I’d best take her to the retiring room. Or to her mama.”

The words hurtled by as in a dream. Surely Anna must awake in her bed at any moment with the ball yet to come, the waltz, her whole future secure in Gideon’s love.

His brother Lewis spoke through clenched teeth. “And I’ll have to watch him gloat for the rest of the evening? I think not.” He took Anna’s hand and set it on his arm. “Come, Miss Spain. We’re going to waltz.”

“I can’t,” she mumbled. “I must—”

“No, you must not.” So fierce and hard-hearted. She’d thought him a kind young man, but his expression showed no sympathy as he led her in amongst the dancers.

Instead, he smiled. How could he, when her world was crumbling to dirt around her feet?

He bowed. She curtsied, hardly knowing what she did. I must talk to Gideon, alone.

The younger Mr. Aubrey put his hands in the right places and set her in motion.

Why would Gideon play such a trick on me? When they next met he would chuckle, and call her a goose, and reassure her with kisses and words of love, and—

“I must apologize for my brother, Miss Spain. He has always been an inconsiderate fellow.”

She glanced at Lewis Aubrey, desperate to get away. To scream, to wail.

It would cause a scene. Break all the rules, embarrass him and herself, Miss Wedbury and her parents.

She missed a couple of steps, slewing around awkwardly in his arms. He righted her, his grip strong and secure.

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, coaxing.

“Let’s play a game, Miss Spain. Pretend nothing’s wrong. My brother likes to see the misery he’s caused.”

She stared him in the eye. “I don’t believe it. He can’t have feigned it all.” Could he?

“I’ve known him a long time, Miss Spain. He enjoys it even more when there’s a room full of gossips to witness his triumphs.”

He was wrong. Of course he was wrong. To say such things of his own brother! Rivalry must drive him, or jealousy. Sour grapes.

“Miss Spain?” She returned her gaze to his. He grinned, ridiculous and exaggerated.

It was the hardest thing she’d ever done, far more difficult than walking into Almack’s the first time among all those people who belonged there.

But it was necessary.

He squeezed her hand, and for the rest of that dreadful waltz, they competed to see which of them could out-smile the other.

He won, but by heaven, she held up her end. He nodded his approval.

She wanted to cry.

About the Author, Kerryn Reid

TODAY IS RELEASE DAY for the brand new edition of ANNA’S REFUGE, Book One in Kerryn’s series focused on the small town of Wrackwater Bridge in Yorkshire. Kerryn spent Covid Summer learning to self-publish, and this is the result! Her publisher went out of business in June, leaving the ebook they released in December 2019 high and dry. Though unavailable for purchase, it won the Silver Medal for Romance in Florida Authors & Publishers Association’s Book Awards. It’s also a finalist in the Maggie Awards (Georgia Romance Writers) and the Royal Palm Awards (Florida Writers Assoc.). Results next month…

Her first novel, LEARNING TO WALTZ, won Best Regency Romance in Chanticleer Books’ Chatelaine Awards. It will be back on the market before Christmas.

Raised in a New England college town, Kerryn inherited her mother’s passion for the British Isles. At seventeen, she roamed the Rock of Cashel after dark with her first love, a local Irish lad. So illicit, so romantic… and so unsustainable. Instead she married her college sweetheart and wound up in Florida, where they’ve lived long enough to feel like natives, with a rotating selection of dogs and cats, and not enough trips to visit their kids—not to mention the cutest, sweetest, smartest little boy any grandma ever had.

But a piece of Kerryn’s heart still lives “across the pond” where so many adventures took place—as well as the Regency romances she loves. And when the itch to write needs scratching, that’s where her imagination takes her. Enjoy the journey!

Kerryn’s monthly “Letters from Wrackwater Bridge” will keep you up to date. Sign up at her website

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A New Season

London April 1821

Welcome lords and ladies to a new London Season! It is sure to be an exciting one, as fresh doe-eyed debutantes embark on an untested journey in life. The art of husband hunting! How exciting! Among the arrivals are a pair of wealthy cousins, the ladies J and O St. J. I’m told that lady O has a rather large problem. I’m sure she will not gather the special attention of anyone in particular. She may gain notice for her rather large dowry. There are a number of fortune hunters who would be happy to assist her. At the top of the list is one Baron B, who’s finances are in such dire straits that if he does not marry soon, he may find himself in debtors’ prison. The list of eligible gentlemen is long and prosperous, one could only hope to snare one. A lady has many options from the boyish blonde-haired Marquess of H, who is possibly the only true bachelor looking for a wife. Perhaps Lady J, who I’ve heard is full of energy, could catch his eye. Unfortunately, his family’s twenty-year scandal doesn’t paint him in a favorable light.

The bachelor that every mama will be hoping to attach their eager daughters to, is none other than the Duke of K. known to all as the Bachelor Duke. It has been ten years since he inherited the dukedom, which is one of the wealthiest in England. His estate in Norwich is bountiful, and dare I say, he is one of the handsomest men I’ve ever had the pleasure to behold. When a lady finally wraps her delicate gloved hand around his arm, she should hold on and never let go. How terribly disappointing.

Last Season our Bachelor Duke found himself pursued by the now Countess of W. There were a select few among us who even thought that the widow Lady E had a chance with him, alas another season went by without our duke even glancing at a lady. Will this Season irrevocably change all of our lives? Will the Bachelor Duke finally marry?  I don’t particularly see circumstances changing for him, but in matters of the heart one never can be sure.

Word has reached this reporter that the Bachelor Duke has just arrived in town for the Season! I am sure there will be broken hearts from here to Bath. It is an unfortunate truth that he shall never marry.

Whatever happens this Season, it’s sure to be a wild carriage ride. I suggest you hold on and watch it all unfold. I know I will.

About the Book

The Bachelor Duke meets a beautiful, curvaceous lady.
Remington Warren, The Duke of Karrington, lives his life by the name society has thrust upon him. Having witnessed cruelty against the fairer sex with his own eyes, he vows never to marry to prevent himself from becoming like the monster who raised him. After ten years of being The Bachelor Duke, his life is irrevocably changed when he sees Lady Olivia St. John across the ballroom floor. 
Having lived a sheltered, pampered life, surrounded by her loving family, Lady Olivia St. John longs to know passion and love. She is beautiful, bold, and has a rather large dowry. According to society, she would be a diamond in the first water of this season if it wasn’t for her one flaw.
Will she find all she longs for and more in the arms of The Bachelor Duke, or will heartbreak be her demise?

Excerpt from The Bachelor Duke

Remington led Livie into the secluded opera box, drawing the curtain closed behind him. They were utterly alone for the first time. He cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes. Heat spread throughout her body. Her heart began to beat wildly in her chest. “Livie, I am very sorry you had to be subjected to their gossip.” His hand traveled to the nape of her neck, guiding her head back as he leaned down, their lips a whisper apart. Her tongue wet her dry lips in anticipation. “Let me assure you that I find every single inch of you pleasing, and I cannot wait until the day I may call you mine.” Remington’s lips pressed to hers. His free arm encircled her waist and pulled her closer to him. A groan of pleasure escaped him. Livie was excited, knowing she was the one that caused him to react in such a way. He brushed his lips softly against hers, allowing her time to become accustomed. She relaxed in his arms. Her lips parted, releasing a sigh of contentment. Taking her bottom lip into his own, he sucked gently, before gliding his silky tongue along it. Livie whimpered, the pure ecstasy of his lips touching hers was a feeling she had never felt in her life. His hand spread wide on her lower back branding her through the fabric of her dress. “Remington,” she sighed against his lips, hearing voices all around them. She wanted to stop the madness with all of society just on the other side of the curtain. But she could only grasp his lapels and hold on tight as she opened to him, allowing him the freedom to devour her. Time stood still while they kissed for what seemed like forever, their lips unable to part, even for something as basic as breathing. The dull sound of voices all around her was drowned out by the rushed beat of her heart. Remington trailed kisses down her neck, and she tilted her head back, gasping for sweet air while new sensations traveled down to the apex of her thighs. “Livie, my God, Livie,” he groaned out before he covered her mouth again with his.

About the Author

 Cecilia Rene is a creative, happy, and outgoing Detroit native who majored in Broadcast Communication at Grambling State University. Immediately following her graduation, she started her new life in New York City. As a self-proclaimed New Yorker, her stimulating and diverse career in advertising sparked a drive for hard work and dedication. Her love and passion for writing followed her from childhood through adulthood, where she wrote short stories, poems, and screenplays. Always an avid reader, she stumbled across a book that ignited a deeper need for more and joined a fandom of like-minded individuals. Cecilia and her family made a huge move five years ago to the great state of Texas, where she currently lives with her loving husband, wonderful son, and spoiled fur baby, Sadie. Cecilia Rene loves romance, humor, and all things spicy. For this reason, she will always give you a Happily Ever After.

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The Wicked Widow’s Club

Gentle Readers:

This just in… A certain young widow (Mrs. J.B.) was seen entering the townhouse of Mrs. C.V. who has been known to recently take in several ex-mistresses of the ton. Is this the next damsel to join her Wicked Widow’s Club? Enquiring minds want to know…

S. Clemens
Editor of the Teatime Tattler


Cassandra Vaughn closed the newspaper, left her settee and went to pour herself a cup of tea. Well… that certainly didn’t take long.

“Is the news that grim, Cassie?” Patience Moore asked entering the room.

“That rag wrote about Josephine,” Cassandra answered a frown marring her brow.

“But… she just arrived last night!

“Exactly my point. How the devil did a reporter learn she was here? Do I have someone camped outside my front door just waiting for a bit of tittle tattle?”

Patience took up the news print and scanned the article. “At least it’s buried on the seventh page,” she said before her eyes widened. “They’re saying we belong to the Wicked Widows Club. Good heavens!”

Cassandra gave a short laugh. “I suppose I’ve been called worse but Josephine is barely hanging on, the poor dear. She’s devastated she was unable to convince Lord de Courtenay to continue their relationship.”

Patience sighed before taking a seat next to her friend. “He’s happily married now. I suppose that is the way of things and how we’ve all managed to find ourselves together here.”

Cassandra stood with a smile. “If the Teatime Tattler is going to say we are this newly founded club, I say let’s give them something to talk about for their next edition. Rouse Josephine and Moriah. I’ll have my carriage brought around in an hour for a ride in Hyde Park.”

Cassandra gave a wink to Patience as the two women continued to conspire as to what their outing would lead to. The possibilities were endless.


This is a short original piece referring to Mrs. Josephine Bouchard who was the ex-mistress of Lord Adrian de Courtenay from The Earl Takes A Wife.

Excerpt:

He watched when her perfect little mouth lifted up into an enchanting smile. This young woman needed to be kissed and often. “Do you think so?” he asked, stepping closer, wishing to teach her a lesson. Her eyes widened. Was this just a game to her? Was she as flirtatious as his younger sister Miranda had become? No… something sincere shone in her face. The girl had no hidden agendas… or did she?

“W-why, y-yes… of c-course, I am,” she stuttered, suddenly appearing unsure of herself as her confidence in their situation tipped and not in her favor.

He lifted her chin with one finger to stare into her sparkling blue eyes. If she was expecting to be kissed, she would be sadly mistaken. He did not dally with troublesome virgins. He did not. He had a mistress who could see to his needs. Still… he leaned forward, and a soft floral scent swirled around his senses.

“You have a lot to learn about men, little one,” Adrian whispered into her ear and felt her shiver. He should not be teasing her so, but he could not seem to help himself. “Trust me when I tell you to set your cap for someone else. You are far too young for me.”

Her hand went to his arm as though to hold on for support. “You sound as though you are ancient, my lord. I am certainly old enough to become your wife.”

“Wife?” he exclaimed, stepping back as though she had the plague. Heaven forbid! She was set on a marriage between them. “Whatever makes you think I am ready to take a wife?”

Her brows met as she pondered. “Certainly you must be considering marriage to someone, my lord. Why not let that lady be me?”

Damn, she was a brave one and far more outspoken than he thought for someone of her tender years. Before he could answer her outrageous bid to become his wife, they heard her name being called from down the hallway.

Once more taking hold of his arm, she pulled him forward before lifting herself up on the tips of her toes to place a quick kiss upon his cheek. “Please wait for me, Adrian…” she whispered in a soft plea against his ear. Without waiting for his answer, she picked up the hem of her dress and ran from the room.

Adrian stood there, stunned. Where had his little sparrow found the nerve to leave him with her kiss? He lifted his hand to his cheek, still feeling the warmth of her breath on his face. He needed a few minutes to compose himself before he could join his sisters in their carriage. Taking a deep breath, he shut the library door and left Hollystone Hall. Once in London, he turned to his usual gentlemanly pursuits and tried to forget the lovely Lady Celia. She would haunt his dreams for many months to come…


The Earl Takes A Wife:
A de Courtenay Novella (Book Two)

By Sherry Ewing

It began with a memory, etched in the heart.

Lady Celia Lacey is too young for a husband, especially man-about-town Lord Adrian de Courtenay. But when she meets him at a house party, she falls in love and cannot get him out of her mind. Will he ever think she is old enough to become his wife?

Adrian finds the appealing innocent impossible to forget, though she is barely out of the schoolroom and a relative by marriage. If they are constantly in each other’s company, then how can he move on without her?

His sister’s deceptions bring them together but destroys their happiness. Can they reach past the hurt to the love that still burns?

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About Bluestocking 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.

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