I write to you today to share my
outrage at occurrences in Dudley Crescent. I simply cannot abide the recent
changes and must have your advice.
Two years ago, a murder occurred at
Number 10. The horrid matter was quickly resolved when the culprit was
identified and put away from fine society.
But the greater scandal was that the widowed lady of the house had
intimate relations with her butler! Then last year, a noted member of society
hired a young woman as ward to his child…and later, did marry the woman! She
was far below his station, though, I do understand, an heiress of considerable
worth. I must tell you the man is one of our finest gentlemen with a spotless
reputation and high military honors. Yet, I worry.
Another event occurring last week causes
me to question my presence here!
I understand that one noble gentleman
has paid attentions to one of his servants! This time, said woman is not a
governess. No, indeed, she is his maid-of-all-work! Can you imagine? I’ve been
inconsolable, riddled with a nervous stomach and headaches. My usual little
dose of laudanum is simply not enough to calm me.
This causes me to ask you if you think
I should move to a better part of town. Is there a curse on the Crescent? Must
I expect more servants who will climb above their station to enthrall their
masters or mistresses? Worse, will such an affliction affect my own house? I
must tell you, quite confidentially, that my only daughter, Lady Mary, seems
far too taken with one of our own servants. The new…dear me, I can barely write
this…stable boy. Yes! He is most definitely not
a boy. Not by any means. He is thirty years of age or more. Tall, taller than
my dear departed husband. And devilishly handsome with hair the color of coal
and eyes like lavender. He is quite ethereal.
I do rattle on!
Advise me, please!
Catherine, the Viscountess of Trelawny
Dudley Crescent is a verdant parcel of land in London, granted by King Charles II to the Earl of Dudley who was one of his staunchest supporters. With gold he’d stolen as a highwayman during Charles’s exile on the Continent, Dudley put his ill-gotten gains to good use and built the finest town homes in the capital. Renting the land in perpetuity to certain Royalist friends quadrupled his fortune.
Today, those who have townhomes surrounding the verdant park are a few of the wealthiest and most influential lords and ladies in the kingdom. But scandals abound on Dudley Crescent. You can find them here:
Could it be true? The answer is yes, dear
reader, and you read it here first at the Teatime Tattler.
Confirmation has been verified that none other than the Duke of H is back on the market and will once more be looking for a bride after Lady R returned his ring. The foolish girl. Doesn’t she know the riches she has given up by breaking off their engagement?
This paper has it on the highest authority that the young lady has returned to the country in a self-imposed exile. But the question remains… who will the Duke choose as his bride? Whoever she may be, we certainly know he won’t be choosing his last mistress, much to her annoyance. Still… Inquiring minds want to know…
Samuel Clemons read this latest tidbit from the Danver sisters and grinned. His readers will go mad with the news that the Duke of Hartford lost the lady whom some have whispered was a love match. Love… what a silly emotion getting the better of oneself.
His office door opened and Samuel handed the parchment to the young man whose ink stained fingers implied he had been busy in the press room.
“Make this a special edition,” Samuel declared with a smirk. “I want it on the front page and not buried inside. Our readers deserve to see this first thing with their breakfast.”
watch the man leave before leaning back in his chair. A laugh escaped him. He
loved his job and was satisfied the Teatime Tattler would be sold out come the
morning. Tomorrow was going to be a glorious day.
Sherry Ewing recently learned that her Regency novel One Moment In Time: A Family of Worth, Book Two was nominated as a RONE finalist with InD’Tale Magazine. It also won their crowned heart and a five star review. She is grateful to all the readers who voted for her story in order for One Moment In Time to become a finalist. Enjoy this excerpt.
opened his eyes and found himself gazing into the face of an angel. Emerald
pools, green as the Scottish moors, stared back at him with an expression of
wonder. He reached out to lightly caress her cheek just to ensure she was real.
She trembled beneath his touch and he thanked God Roselyn had awoken once more.
his legs down to the floor, he stood and reached for her hands to help her to
rise. Her beautiful face wore a confused frown, and without thought he acted on
the urge to assure himself she was real and on the mend, bringing her into his
embrace. He knew in his heart his gesture was inappropriate; he should not be
so bold, especially considering all that she had been through, but he could not
back as he should became impossible when she returned his affection by placing
her arms around his waist. As if they had a will of their own, his hands made
their way up her arms and into her glorious curling hair that cascaded down the
length of her back. It felt like the softest silk to his touch and a lock
coiled around his fingers taking possession of him.
took her chin in his fingers and tilted it up so he could see the face she had
been hiding in his chest. Once more staring into her eyes, he saw her lips
tremble and wondered how sweet they would taste. Leaning forward, he came to
within a breath and hesitated. But only for one second. At last, he brought his
mouth down to hers in a gentle first kiss.
could be no mistaking her hesitation nor that she was inexperienced in her
technique. Edmond retained enough control to remember she was a young innocent
and he did not wish to scare her away. His heart rejoiced when he felt her arms
creep up his back and he tightened his hold upon her. One taste would in no way
satisfy the sudden desire he had for her and her encouragement gave him the
permission he needed to deepen the kiss all the more.
sanity finally reined in his desire, and he broke the spell by ending their
kiss abruptly. Alarm briefly shook him when Roselyn took several steps
backwards to put some distance between them. In the silence of the room, the
only sound was the two of them attempting to catch their breaths after the heat
of the moment.
One moment in time may be enough, if it lasts forever…
When the man Lady Roselyn Anne Winslow has loved since she was a
young girl begins to court her, Roselyn thinks all her dreams have come true…
until the dream turns into a nightmare.
Lady Roselyn is everything Edmond Worthington, 9th Duke of
Hartford, could ask for in a wife and he is delighted to find she returns his
love… until he loses her, not once but twice.
From England’s ballrooms, to Berwyck Castle and a tropical
island that is anything but paradise, Edmond and Roselyn face ruthless enemies
who will do anything to tear them apart. Can they recover their one moment in
is proud to be one of the Bluestocking Belles. Sherry 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.
learn more about her on the tab above or visit her on one of these social media
From the journal of Sophie Hartford – the Tattler has received her PRIVATE Journal from Chateau de Fontanes, the Pyranees, 1818
We returned to the chateau today. I was sorry to say goodbye to my friends in
Ax-les-Thermes but the marquise assures me we’ll go back there soon. For now,
we’re going to spend a quiet few days here in the mountains, and I’m going to
be watching my sister closely. I sense she’s attracted to Joachim. Indeed, who
wouldn’t be, so handsome and warmhearted as he is. With those big brown eyes
and that smile like sunshine, he’s most alluring. But Nell is Nell and she hides
her feelings behind a cool composure. On the other hand, Joachim is making it
plain he likes and admires her.
This afternoon we went down to the stables and the two of them started talking together. I may be four years younger than Nell, but I’m grown up enough to see that Joachim only had eyes for her. So I dawdled around, stroking my horse, petting the stable cat, and then sat down on a bench. Joachim’s lurcher dog, Flocon, came and sat by me. They didn’t notice they were alone as they wandered off down the paddock, talking all the time. At several points they stopped, I could see them waving their arms around as they discussed something. Surely they must be coming to an agreement. Indeed, all the stableboys and grooms found excuses to come out and watch them as well.
My romantic hopes were sadly dashed when
they returned, and I found they’d spent the entire time talking about educating
the poor children of the estate. But tomorrow is another day and I’ll think up
a scheme to bring them together. Why is my 22 year old sister resisting such
29th April. This morning Nell was in the music room, helping a
little boy with his lesson. I casually told Joachim of this and soon I saw him
rush along to the music room. The little boy came out, and I pretended to be
arranging flowers in a vase in the corridor, so as to keep an eye on the door, in
case anyone else tried to go in. Flocon has become attached to me and he sat
watching as I fiddled with the flowers. A rather long time went by and I began
to worry that our kind hostess might come in search of us. So I tiptoed up to
the door, which wasn’t quite shut.
Somehow I stifled a gasp on seeing them
locked in a very passionate embrace
on the windowseat. As I peeped, they
slid down until Joachim was lying almost on top of her. Oh, my stars! What
lightning progress from yesterday’s formal behaviour. But I had to stop them before
they forgot themselves utterly. Suddenly I had a brainwave. I nudged the door a
little further open and pushed Flocon into the room. He started barking and ran
to jump up at his master. I saw Joachim jerk his head up, so I pulled the door
shut again and fled.
This evening. At dinner I
was expecting an Announcement but they both behaved as usual. Such a
disappointment. And later, when we came up to go to bed, Nell didn’t say a word
about her relationship with Joachim. She’s being very sly but tomorrow I shall
tell her that I KNOW!
About the book: TheOutcasts
Joachim is the youngest of the three Montailhac brothers.
Always close to the land, he now manages his father’s estates and
livestock. Athletic and handsome, Joachim seems to have an
ideal existence. But he has a guilty secret and it suddenly reappears to
cause havoc. His life is further complicated by dealing with an accident at the
iron mine on the estate just as visitors arrive, bringing yet more problems.
Nell and Sophie Hartford are cousins of Joachim’s sister-in-law, Olivia [see Scandalous Lady]. In the Spring of 1818 they find themselves outcasts from their officer father’s home in Paris, and are forced to accept Olivia’s assurance that her mother-in-law, the Marquise de Fontanes, will make them welcome. After all, says Olivia, life in the family chateau in the Pyrenees will be a tonic for them. Two unhappy girls struggle to fit into the very different lifestyle of the large and slightly exotic Montailhac family. At the same time, danger threatens from a deranged criminal bent on vengeance against their hosts.
Read an excerpt from The Outcasts
Nell seemed to have grown even prettier while he was away. Joachim joined his family in the Assembly Rooms and gazed appreciatively at her while she exchanged greetings with several of her new friends. Her primrose yellow dress brought out the russet gleams in her hair. She looked elegant and appealing. Glancing towards his mother he found her watching him with a twinkle in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow and he stepped close.
‘Mother, you’ve wrought a miracle. When she first arrived, dressed all in grey, I called her ‘Miss Dismal’ to myself. Now, I wonder if even her own father would recognise her.’
The marquise squeezed his hand. ‘Poor girls. Cast out as they were, no wonder they were so dejected. It is a pleasure to see them thrive here.’ She smiled at the buzz of light hearted chatter coming from the group. ‘Now you can keep an eye on them. I want to talk to my friends for a while.’
‘Hey, Joachim,’ one of the young men greeted him with a horrified air, ‘Did you know what’s in store this evening? Old Deschamps is going to recite one of his endless poems.’
There was a general muttering and some groans.
Nell gave a choke of laughter and looked enquiringly at Joachim.
He crossed his eyes at her, which made her laugh aloud. He sobered suddenly, staring into her green-grey eyes. She really was lovely, especially with that wash of pink colouring her cheeks. He wanted to get her away from the others.
‘Do you play cards? Then we could escape to the card room.’
‘No, neither of us plays.’ She looked round for her sister, but Sophie had disappeared.
‘She doesn’t like poetry recitals, I take it?’ said Joachim, amused.
‘No, but this is rude. I must find her.’
‘I’ll come with you.’ They slipped off towards the other room. ‘Well,’ said Joachim, ‘it seems we don’t care for poetry recitals either.’
She gave him a glance full of mischief, and laughed again, making him want to get her right away from everyone. ‘Let’s hope we don’t find Sophie too quickly, then.’
However, ten minutes later, Sophie was nowhere to be seen and Nell was showing signs of alarm.
‘I’d better see if she’s returned to the recital,’ she decided. They stood in the doorway, peering in. The marquise saw them and beckoned. Nell went to her and sat down. The poet was in full flow, and Joachim shook his head at his mother, who shrugged. He turned back into the card room and came face to face with Sophie. She smiled naughtily.
‘I saw you looking for me,’ she told him. ‘Bertrand spotted me but he didn’t say anything.’
She tossed her head. ‘You had more fun looking for me with Nell than being bored to death in there. Let’s play cards.’ She spun away, towards a table at the back of the room, where Bertrand was shuffling a pack of cards. He rose to his feet and pulled out a chair. Sophie sat down, casting a look of triumph at Joachim.
‘Nell said you don’t play,’ he protested.
She bit her lip, looking shamefaced suddenly. ‘Not really,’ she mumbled, ‘but I can watch you.’
A few of the older players were casting disapproving looks their way, although there were other ladies in the room. It was simply that Sophie was so very young. His mother would give him an earful later but until the poet finished his recitation, they would stay here.
‘Vingt-et-un?’ suggested Bertrand, dealing. The luck went against him for several games. He slammed his cards down. ‘Let’s have a drink. It might turn the luck in my favour.’ He beckoned to a waiter and held up three fingers.
‘Have they still not finished next door?’ he asked. He smiled at Sophie. ‘There’ll be some folk-songs later. You’ll enjoy that.’
She agreed and glanced at the approaching waiter. She stared for a moment and gave a gasp of surprise.
Joachim heard her and looked up. It was that toothy lad, and something was wrong. He saw the boy’s face change as he looked at Sophie. He set the tray down awkwardly, keeping his head bent down.
Bertrand picked up a glass and offered it to Sophie.
‘Er, no, no, sir,’ spluttered the waiter, jerking his hand out, but Sophie had already raised the glass to her lips.
‘Don’t drink,’ said Joachim sharply. Too late.
She set the empty glass down and tossed her head. ‘I’m old enough to drink wine, you know.’ Then the blood drained from her face. She put a hand to her throat. ‘Aargh,’ she croaked.
Both young men were on their feet. Joachim seized Sophie by the arm. ‘Get Nell,’ he shot at Bertrand and pulling Sophie’s arm round his shoulders he half-walked, half-dragged her towards the back door, which was close by.
‘Open it, you,’ he panted.
The rabbit-toothed waiter darted to obey.
They barely made it outside before Sophie began to retch. Joachim pulled out his handkerchief and was turning to look for some water when something struck him on the back of his head. He saw a mighty flash of red and then nothing more.
About the Author
Beth Elliott loves speaking different languages and traveling to out of the way places. A Welsh mother and a Lancashire father mean she has a complicated mix of imagination and practical common sense. After a teaching career in several countries, she settled in the Thames Valley. Settled, that is, except when the traveling bug takes her. An excuse for this is that she has published a number of travel articles, and of course, she can use the settings for her novels.
Her Regency Tales are
stories of intrigue, adventure and romance, with a few real people in among the
cast of characters who find themselves caught up in events that rather upset
their normal lives. She hasn’t yet put Napoleon himself in a story, but he’s on
the waiting list. On the principle of ladies first, especially in the Regency
era, Lady Hester Stanhope played a small but vital role in ‘Scandalous Lady.’
From her own experience of life in Turkey, Beth likes to add a
touch of exotic to some of her stories. But adventure and romance can – and do
– occur just as easily in London, Bath or Brighton as in Constantinople.
For more information, visit her at the following links.
It will be no surprise to you that your grandson, Sir Perran Geoffrey, is once again featured in the street-corner scandal sheets such as that horrid Teatime Tattler. I realize that, living in Cornwall as you do, you like to believe that both situation and distance isolate you from scandal, but as your friend of some years, let me disabuse you of this notion.
It may give some in the drawing rooms of London comfort to think that, simply because the Countess Lieven and the other Patronesses have dubbed Sir Perran and his friends as the “Rogues of St. Just,” those gentlemen now possess the general approval of society.
Just this week I found myself in the position of having to explain to a social-climbing mama that this is not the case. You likely already know that dear Lady Mainwaring is sponsoring her Penrose nieces in their debuts this Season. I can see already that my work will be cut out for me in that quarter, since from your information, the young ladies are already acquainted with the Rogues.
This very evening, I am welcoming a number of select friends
and acquaintances for supper and dancing, and of course have sent Sir Perran
and his friends invitations. Part of the reason for my seeming inconsistency is
that suitable gentlemen are scarce upon the ground this Season. And part, of
course, is that he is your grandson, my dear friend, and I may have news of you
from him. While I myself have not witnessed any questionable behavior on his
part—he is always civil in his dealings with me—I am quite certain that he and
his friends alone could keep the scandalmongers scribbling all Season.
I beg you, dear Ghislaine, to write him a line or two and
urge him to curb his wild inclinations to drink, cards, and ladies such as the
Countess Eaton, with whom his name is linked. It will be difficult for him to
make a good match if he does not. No woman wishes to know for certain that she
is the consolation prize.
About the Book
He is a penniless baronet. She is the wealthy great-granddaughter of a tradesman. Can these childhood friends find their way back to each other when scandal strikes them both?
Sir Perran Geoffrey needs a wealthy
bride to repair his family estate and to bring his sister out in Society. But
what woman with money and standing will accept him as a husband—practically
penniless, his title under a cloud thanks to his ne’er-do-well father, with an
estate far away in Cornwall?
Alwyn Penrose and her two sisters
are in London for their first Season. Imagine their surprise when they meet the
heirs of the neighboring estates—gentlemen whom they are barely allowed to
acknowledge. For to be seen with the Rogues of St. Just means the death of
Except that Alwyn is seen. More
than once. And the gossip spreads all the way to the sacred portals of
Almack’s, which close in her face and end her hopes for a good marriage
The ruin of her Season is Perran
Geoffrey’s fault. And when they are both forced to return to Cornwall, only one
thing is clear: One good ruination deserves another.
Henry’s storytelling is nothing short of brilliant—Regency romance that will
sweep you away.” —Regina Scott
Excerpt from The Rogue to Ruin (Rogues of St. Just
#1) by Charlotte Henry
Hyde Park, London, Spring 1816
Sir Perran Geoffrey pulled up his
horse in such surprise that the sensitive animal danced in the path. “By Jove,”
he exclaimed, “isn’t that the Penrose sisters there, coming in at Lancaster
Captain Griffin Teague, formerly
commander of the sloop of war Artemis,
craned his neck, causing his own horse to sidestep. “Easy, boy.” He patted its
withers. “Where? On a fine day in London there are a thousand young ladies
parading about Hyde Park—how is one to tell one lot from another?”
“There.” Perran inclined his head
three degrees to the northwest. “The landau drawn by the pretty matched bays.
It is certainly the Penrose girls from home—bonnets or not, I recognize their
“There you would be mistaken, old
man,” said the third member of their party. Jago Tremayne had probably never
mistaken a lady in his life. Or a bird, or the contents of a letter, or a hand
of cards. His memory was prodigious—as was his entirely undeserved reputation
as a flirt. “Mrs. Penrose died a handful of years ago. That, I suspect, is her
sister, Lady Mainwaring.”
“Help us.” Griffin did not quite
implore the skies for mercy, but he came close. “Have they come up to London
for the Season?”
There was only one answer. Of
course they had. “You know perfectly well we cannot renew the acquaintance.”
Perran spurred his horse down another path toward the Long Water. “Come!”
“Hold up—we cannot escape it now.”
Griffin raised a hand to stop him. “We have been spotted.”
“So? Better to cut a young lady
than ruin her.”
About the Author
Charlotte Henry is the author of 24 novels published by
Harlequin, Warner, and Hachette, and a dozen more published by Moonshell Books,
Inc., her own independent press. As Charlotte, she writes the Rogues of St.
Just series of classic Regency romances. As Shelley Adina, she writes steampunk
adventure, and as Adina Senft, writes Amish women’s fiction. She holds an MFA
in Writing Popular Fiction, and is currently at work on a PhD in Creative
Writing at Lancaster University in the UK. She won the Romance Writers of
America RITA Award® for Best Inspirational Novel in 2005, and was a finalist in
2006. When she’s not writing, you can find Charlotte sewing historical dresses,
traveling for research, reading, or enjoying the garden with her flock of rescued
Welcome to this special lecture presentation of The Teatime Tattler. I am your host and moderator, Samuel Clemens. In our continuing effort to bring you information about the people involved in The Stelton Legacy, we’ve been able to pull off a real coup. Family honor is at stake.
Tonight we meet Lady Darla Maxwell, a young woman for whom her father Graeme Maxwell and close friend, Lord Ewan MacDougall sought a suitable husband. Lady Darla has a … magical background which, as a young woman would, she sought to deny. I hope we can find out more about how her magic influenced the outcome of her story.
Wesley Reynolds, the son of the well-known silk merchant William Reynolds has a
most interesting background that I hope he’ll elaborate on today. It’s what
made him the man trusted by the King of England as well as the Guardians of
One moment, please. I’m getting instructions from our stage manager. (leans over the stage). Ladies and gentlemen. Our stage manager has just informed me our guests have arrived at the studio.
Ah. The lights have dimmed. A hush has come over the theatre. I can see into the wings. Yes. The door has opened. The anticipation in the room is palpable. Wait. I see them. They’re walking toward us. They have a stately and commanding appearance, and they’re holding hands. It is very tender and touching.
(Clemens rises from his chair as his guests’ approach.)
Clemens: Lord Wesley, Lady Darla. It’s good to meet you.
(Chairs scrape the floor, feet shuffle as everyone takes their seats.)
Clemens: Lady Darla please sit here next to Lord Wesley.
and Wesley hold hands. Wesley eases back in his chair and crosses his legs in a
Clemens: Thank you for granting us an interview. Everyone here at Inside Scoop is excited you’re with us.
Wesley: Lady Darla and I are happy to be with you today.
Our time is short so unless you have any questions I’d like to get right to the
I have no questions at the moment. Please begin.
Clemens:: (Papers rustle as Clemens gets settled.) Lord Wesley, you have a very interesting personal history with several twists and turns. Please explain how your background made you the man you are today.
As a young man I followed in my father’s footsteps. He was both an excellent
silk merchant and business man. He taught me the silk business from cultivating
the silk worms, to making the final bolts of cloth, to selling and shipping the
bolts. I learned by traveling with him and observing him at his work. He was a
well-respected merchant and excellent negotiator. When he passed away, I was
ready to take over although I will never be able to take his place.
squeezes Wesley’s hand, her face full of encouragement.)
I understand you sailed out of the Cinque Ports in southern Europe, in the
service of the King of England. Some say you were a privateer.
lets go of Darla’s hand and moves to the edge of his seat.)
Why do you ask?
Wesley. (She touches her husband’s arm.)
My Love, it still pains me to think of those days much less speak about them.
gives her husband an encouraging smile. Wesley turns back to Justin and lets
out a slow breath.)
I provided the king with the silks he wanted, as I did with many monarchs
across Europe. Because of my connections I was a good sounding board for him. I
had my own ships and one thing led to another. I had no love for the Spanish.
They thought I was a charity, taking my goods without paying for them. So, I
simply took from their ships to repay their debt. All in all, a good
When Wesley’s father took ill he went to help him.
There were certain family incidents that happened. Over the years, my brother told
me what happened and why. I believed Darla’s father and Lord Ewan, my father’s
closest friends plotted against him and my family. I thought they ruined his
business and took his property, circumstances that led to his death.
You said you thought they conspired against your father. I surmise you don’t
believe that now. What made you believe it in the first place and why did you
have a change of heart?
Simply said, I put my trust in someone close and was deceived.
Clemens: Did this have anything to do with the pirate king, MacAlpin?
I understand why you ask. The MacAlpin has the reputation of being a ruthless
savage pirate. But, in all my dealings with him he proved to be fair and
trustworthy. He was instrumental is seeing justice was served. It was difficult
after years of believing something so strongly that it became your essence, to
have the truth uncovered and recognize you’d been lied to for a very long time.
Justin: I’m sure it is. I understand Lady Darla was at your side.Darla: From the first moment we met on the docks by my father’s ship and I mistook him for Lord Ewan’s son-in-law, Magnus I was drawn to Wesley. I was relieved to learn he wasn’t Magnus. Very pleased indeed.
Darla’s father, Lord Graeme Maxwell–
Clemens: The renowned gem and jewelry merchant?
beamed with pride.)
Yes. Maxwell and Lord Ewan were nothing like I expected. After my father’s
death I was told again of their thievery, had it stamped into my brain. I didn’t
question it. You see, from an early age I was fostered to the Highland Maxwells.
When I came back and worked with my father he had already moved the family from
our home on Lord Ewan’s island, forced out I was told. I accepted it as truth
and when my father died I vowed to take revenge for all the injustices Graeme
Maxwell and Ewan MacDougall did to my father and family.
Wesley thought to use me as a pawn in his effort to hurt my father.
(He turns to Darla) That wasn’t one of my shining moments. The more time we
spent together and the more I got to know you, your father, and Lord Ewan, the
more I knew I had it all wrong, but evil kept buzzing in my ear, pushing me to
carry out the plans.
You found the truth. It’s all over now.
holds Darla’s hand and looks into her eyes.)
I’m a very lucky man.
(Clemens coughs to remind them they aren’t alone. They both turn toward Clemens.)
Clemens: Lady Darla, I understand you have unique insight—
Wesley: Come Darla. (Wesley gets to his
feet.) It’s time to leave.
(Clemens, astonished by Lord Wesley’s action looks at Wesley. Darla remains calm and seated.)
Clemens: M’lord. I apologize if I have offended you or your lady.
Darla: No, Mr. Clemens. My husband is very protective. (Darla stands next to her husband.) I do have a unique ability. I have second sight. I see things before they happen. Some people—
Unintelligent, witless ones–
Darla: Mr. Clemens gets your meaning. Some people believe it witchcraft. They say and do foolish things. It is why I kept to myself while growing up. Why I never allowed myself to become attached to a gentleman. How could I get someone I loved tangled in that rat’s nest. Some may see my gift as a blessing, but I assure you it is not. Imagine knowing something terrible is going to happen and you’re not able to influence it at all. I thought I would never marry. I was satisfied with being alone the rest of my life. I was wrong. I had no idea that I waited for the right person, my soul mate. I never saw that coming until I met Wesley. So much for my second sight. When I found him I knew I would never let him go. He is my love, my life.
(Wesley takes his wife in his arms. Clemens stands.)
Wesley: As you are mine. (He turns to Clemens.) Deception and family honor were at stake.
So was my heart.
Do you have any other questions?
Clemens: No, Lord Wesley. Thank you both for speaking to us. (He turns to the audience.) Thank you for coming today. Lady Darla hasn’t told us much about her second sight, but I understand it is quite interesting. You can find out more about Lady Darla’s magic and Lord Wesley in The Pirate’s Jewel. Until next time.
The Pirate’s Jewel
Deception and family honor are at stake – so is her heart.
Reynolds will do anything to avenge his family’s banishment from Dundhragon
Castle even throw in with the notorious pirate, MacAlpin. His plan, ruin Lord
Ewan’s trading network. He has a more devious plan for his father’s ‘best
friend,’ the man who abandoned them at the eleventh hour. He’ll ruin the man’s
most precious jewel, his daughter Darla. Wesley’s so close to ruining the trade
network and succeeding he can almost taste it, but revenge is not nearly as
sweet as Darla’s kisses.
Maxwell, beloved by her parents has no prospects of marriage. Her father and
Lord Ewan search to find her the right husband. Darla’s special gifts are
frightening to many. She has visions that often come true. The murky image of a
man haunts her, she’s sure it’s Lord Ewan’s soon-to-be son-in-law, but the
vision morphs when she meets Wesley. The meaning couldn’t be any clearer to
her, her destiny lies with Wesley.
revelations surface indicating Wesley has been deceived and his revenge
misplaced. Will he find the truth of what really happened to his family in time
to stop the pirates? Will Darla ever forgive him? Will he ever forgive himself?
| Blogger | Creative Thinker | Dreamer | Good Sport | Teammate
Hi – I’m Ruth A. Casie and I write historical and
contemporary romance. You might be wondering what I’m about. Sit back and let
me tell you.
I’m happiest when I’m telling stories
either chatting in a group or writing them down. I love to put my hero and
heroine in tough situations and dare them to work it out—together, always
together. They haven’t disappointed. Oh,
they complain but in the end their love and relationships are stronger than
Here are five things you probably don’t
know about me.
I filled my passport up in one year.
I have three series. The Druid
Knight stories are a historical time travel series. The Stelton Legacy is
historical fantasy about the seven sons of a seventh son. Havenport Romances
are stories set in a small coast Rhode Island town. I also write stories in the connected world
the Pirates of Britannia.
I did a rap to “How Many Trucks Can a Tow Truck Tow If a Tow Truck Could
When I cook I dance.
My Sudoku book is in the bathroom. I’m not saying anything else about
stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and
stories will keep you turning the pages until the end. I hope my stories become
your favorite adventures.
I’m a USA Today bestselling author.
* counted cross stitch
* ballroom dancing – not just between
the fridge and stove