Home of the Bluestocking Belles

Because history is fun and love is worth working for

Tag: Regency romance Page 1 of 48

A French Adventuress in Cheshire

By

On August 22, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

What an interesting harvest season the residents of Cheshire are having. This report comes from a resident of a small village which shall be left unnamed.

My Dear Mr. Clemens,

It has been some time since my last letter, but so it has been with the goings on in Belgium that one has no chance but to read whatever report one can find and otherwise worry.

Now we have come through that, and our people of R have both mourned the loss of some brave young men and celebrated the return of many as well as this year’s good harvest.

And what goings-on there have been before, during, and after our harvest fete!

In particular, we have seen the return to the village of a young Frenchwoman (one might call her an adventuress!) and the lady who employed her as a companion. They were both offered shelter by a friend of the younger woman, one of our most genteel widowed ladies. Such a fuss, with the Frenchwoman here in R openly seeking a wealthy husband, her employer bedazzling one of our elderly local worthies, and the widowed lady praying that her posthumous child (yes, she was in the family way at the time of her husband’s death) is a boy—else she and her daughters will be homeless!

There is more. A handsome young officer has returned from the army with a Frenchman in tow meant to marry the fortune-hunting young Frenchwoman, she who wants nothing to do with anything French. It is whispered that she is the heiress of a French vintner!

What is the truth? I will write again when I know more.

Under the Champagne Moon

Orphaned by the French Revolution and rescued by a British family, Fleur Hardouin didn’t—or wouldn’t—speak, until the jolly young Gareth Ardleigh crossed her path one summer and saved her from bullies. Fifteen years later, Fleur and the beloved lady she serves return to Cheshire. Determined to rescue them both through an advantageous marriage, Fleur tries to brush off the attention she receives from Gareth, who’s home from the wars and as handsome as ever. Her heart longs for him, but her head knows he can’t provide the security she needs.

Gareth’s excuse for visiting Cheshire is to deliver the personal effects of his best friend who perished at Quatre Bras. But his real purpose is finding the little French girl he met years ago, for marriage—not to him, but to the Frenchman who helped save his life. Astonished to find that Fleur has grown into a beautiful—and still intriguing—young woman, it soon becomes clear, he must choose between honoring a promise or trying to win the hand of the woman he loves.

Originally published in Under the Harvest Moon, a Bluestocking Belles with Friends Collection

Buy Links: https://books2read.com/underthechampagnemoon

About the Author

USA Today bestselling author Alina K. Field earned a Bachelor of Arts Degree in English and German literature but prefers the much happier world of romance fiction. Her roots are in the Midwestern U.S., but after six very, very, very cold years in Chicago, she moved to Southern California. Now widowed, and with the kids grown, she recently transplanted from Orange County to a desert community. The nest is empty except for a sweet, feisty chihuahua and grandkids who frequently need looking after and visit often

Social Media Links:

Website: https://alinakfield.com/

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/Alina-K.-Field/e/B00DZHWOKY

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/alinakfield

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlinaKField

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alina-k-field

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7173518.Alina_K_Field

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

Newsletter signup: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/z6q6e3

Exotic Otter and a Missing Orphan

By

On August 5, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

When his majesty the Prince Regent entrusted certain animals from the Royal Menagerie to deserving recipients, the Tattler never imagined any would come up missing. However, that appears to be the case for three exotic otters granted to an obscure baronet in Sussex, which have vanished along with the orphaned daughter of the house, Miss Georgiana Morland.

The latest news is that the otters have re-appeared in the custody of the Reverend Lord Peter Avondale – youngest of the scandalous Avondale brothers – but Miss Morland is nowhere to be found, only a young gentleman who claims to be the owner and has been seen by scarcely anyone in the rural village of Kilbythorpe.

Truly, it is a mystery where Miss Georgiana could have disappeared to, and why she would not claim the otters herself.

Otters and Obstacles

by Alexa Santi
Three mischievous otters, a sleepy village, and a lady in disguise. What could go wrong?

When Georgiana Morland’s cruel cousin sends her beloved pet otters away to what seems certain death, she has no choice but to pursue them… even if that means disguising herself as a young man for the journey.

In the charming Yorkshire village of Kilbythorpe, the Reverend Lord Peter Avondale knows he only has one chance to salvage his damaged ecclesiastical career, or be forced to leave the work he loves behind forever. All he needs to do is be less impulsive. How hard can it be?

The arrival of three mischievous otters, followed by a mysterious young man who claims to be their keeper, upends Peter’s peaceful exile. The revelation that the “young man” Peter invited to stay with him is a respectable young woman leaves them with only one option: marriage.

As scandal looms and the Ladies’ Auxiliary meddles, Peter begins to fear he will lose the only thing he loves more than his career: Georgie.

Excerpt

A crash rang through the hallway outside his study, and loud voices caused him to rise from his desk and cross to the door to open it. His housekeeper, Mrs. Barwick, seemed to be trying to push a young man holding a large basket out the front door, and the young man pushed back, shoving his foot into the door to prevent her from closing it.

“What’s all the racket?” Peter asked, and Mrs. Barwick whirled on him. The young man took the opportunity to slip through the half-open door and stand in the hallway with the basket balanced on one hip, snatching his cap off as he did so.

“Oh! I’m that sorry to disturb you, Lord Peter, but this young ruffian is trying to deliver something that don’t belong here.”

As the racket died down, Peter realized the basket was… squeaking.

He looked from the basket to the impassive young man holding it, and back to the basket.

The squeaking intensified, and the basket began to vibrate.

“Ain’t you Mr. Sloane? I was told Mr. Sloane lived here,” the young man said.

“I’m afraid a mistake has been made,” Peter said. “The Reverend Mr. Sloane has retired to Brighton.”

Peter’s eldest brother, the Duke of Livesey, had provided Mr. Sloane with a handsome pension to clear the way for Peter to take over the living here as a glorified curate, with Mr. Sloane nominally keeping his title as rector of the parish. After a few necessary improvements had been completed, Peter had finished the process of unpacking and re-organizing the rectory only a few weeks ago, having removed what seemed like dozens of small animals posed under glass from every corner of the cottage to the attic so he could rest without reproachful eyes watching his every move.

And now he was receiving live animals in their stead.

The boy shrugged. “That ain’t my concern, vicar. I was told to deliver these here, and I ain’t got the funds to go haring across the country. They’re yours now.”

He set the basket on the floor and legged it out the front door, ducking under the housekeeper’s attempt at restraint and fleeing down the walkway as Peter and Mrs. Barwick went in fruitless pursuit.

For one moment, the young man paused and shouted over his shoulder, “They like a bit o’ fish!” before continuing down the lane towards the village and vanishing from sight.

Buy Link: https://Books2Read.com/OttersAndObstacles

About the Author:

Alexa Santi loves storytelling of all kinds, so it’s no wonder it took some time for her to settle on writing romance novels after several career detours, including an MFA in Screenwriting from Loyola Marymount University. She lives near Los Angeles with her handsome archivist husband and their pesky cats, who insist she take frequent breaks from her writing to pay attention to them. You can find her on Facebook, Instagram, or on her website at https://www.alexasanti.com

Facebook Author Page

https://www.facebook.com/alexasantiauthor

Instagram Page

https://www.instagram.com/alexasantiauthor/

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/alexa_santi

BookBub

https://www.bookbub.com/authors/alexa-santi

Amazon Author Page

https://www.amazon.com/Alexa-Santi/e/B0978GS9VB/

Website

https://www.alexasanti.com

Newsletter

https://www.subscribepage.com/alexasanti

https://BookHip.com/GFQAMSR

Linktree

https://www.linktr.ee/alexasantiauthor

Want to hear what I’m doing next? Sign up for my newsletter either on my website or at https://BookHip.com/KSFZDMH

Letter from “A Lady”

By

On July 15, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

It is to be admired that a young lady of good family should excel with her paintbrush, as indeed she should also do in music, embroidery and letter-writing. That she should seek to earn her fortune thereby is another matter entirely.

Those of you cognisant of the recent scandal involving a certain Miss A and Mr C will know of what I speak. The seeking of one’s fortune through art represents an extraordinary lack of judgement, a trait oft seen in the story of the aforementioned Young Lady.

I cannot blame the prodigal daughter of Lady A for seeking escape from what I can only consider one of the Less Civilised provinces, despite its having a coastline and an absence of inconvenient hills. Unfortunately, our Great Metropolis draws all towards it, although it is to be wished that said young lady had made the journey in a more Respectable Fashion. Lady A is truly to be pitied that her offspring chose elopement, and even more so that the gentleman, in question, a certain Mr T, chanced to be a Nobody who could have no thought but for the young lady’s Fortune. Rumour has it that he, too, considered himself An Artist. Imagine that! That two such Unworldly Young Persons should be domiciled together is a recipe for Boredom, Penury, and Ultimate Disaster. Any Person of Taste, Fashion or Discretion must be shocked by such behaviour.

If only this were the end of the sorry tale of poor Lady A’s wayward younger daughter! As if creating a Scandal in London were not enough, what must she then do but return to her dreary county of residence in the company of a member of the Lyon’s Den Gambling Hell, whom we shall call Mr C. Said Establishment is right here in Town, almost on my own doorstep, I’ll have you know. Utterly appalling. The goings-on! The only good thing I can say for Mr C is that he’s not known for his Watercolours, Portraits, or Oils, but prefers to lead the ramshackle existence that is so often the Preserve of the Younger Son. His association with the proprietor of the aforementioned establishment bears closer inspection, as it is my understanding that Mrs D-L frequently involves her acolytes in Nefarious Activities. What hope is there for a Daughter of the Provinces when thrown into the company of such a fellow? And if he should have turned her head by saving her from Highway Robbers, a rejected Lover, and indeed, from herself, then she is entirely lost to Decent Society.

Let us pray that the aforementioned Mr C will break the young lady’s heart, render her an Unmarriageable Spinster, and cure her forever of her ambition to set herself up as an Artist. Only then will the drawing rooms of the ton be safe from Scribbles, Indecipherable Blobs, mawkish depictions of babies, Ugly Portraits, and hideous representations of Dogs.

If I learn anything further regarding this Particular Situation, I promise you shall be the first to hear of it.

Yours etc.

LYON ON THE LOOSE

She fled a terrible mistake. Then her past caught up with her.

When scapegrace Miss Lissy Ashby faces ruin, she vows never again to trust a charming smile. But Fate has other plans. An ultimatum, a stolen carriage, and a forced overnight stay entangle her with her mother’s new secretary—a man with secrets of his own.

He was awful at spying. Excellent at falling in love.

Roland Chetwynd has been sent to Lissy’s home under false pretences, charged by renowned matchmaker, Mrs. Bessie Dove-Lyon, with recovering a missing sapphire necklace. He never imagined he would instead be captivated by a brave, blue-eyed artist who sees far more than he intended to reveal.

When masked villains strike at Lissy’s family’s ball, Roland risks everything—his reputation, his commission, even his heart—to protect her. But when the truth of his deception comes to light, Lissy must decide if the man she loves is a hero… or simply another mistake.

Purchase Link Universal: https://mybook.to/lyonontheloose

Purchase Link Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0H5P9LR9Y

Excerpt:

London

The carriage clattered to a halt at the road junction, then rocked alarmingly as someone yanked the door open and flung themselves into the interior. The Honourable Roland Chetwynd automatically reached for his lion-headed cane, a gift from Mrs Dove-Lyon, with which to defend himself. Too late. There was an ominous cracking sound as the unwelcome intruder lost their balance and collapsed onto his lap.

An interesting twist to an already disastrous day; his carriage was now full of rain-drenched young female, and his new walking cane had been snapped in two. He also now had mud on his trousers whilst a trail of water dripped enthusiastically from the woman’s bonnet onto the toes of his carefully polished Hessians.

His coachman, apparently unaware of the new arrival, set the carriage lumbering off once more. Speechless, Roland glared at the damp young lady as she seated herself opposite him and shook the rain from her hooded cloak.

“I most awfully sorry, sir, but I was in dire need and your coach stopped in the street at just the right moment. I promise you needn’t take me far—I just need to travel a few blocks to make sure he can’t find me.”

Usually of a sunny disposition, Roland found himself feeling particularly ungentlemanly today. He was currently boasting a black eye following a set-to with his old enemy Henry Sutton, and he had just discovered that there was a book set up against him at White’s, a further blow to his rickety self-esteem. Rescuing bold young ladies from unwanted suitors—or whoever—was not what he had in mind right now. A few games of cards, a harmless wager or two, and a very decent Canary wine awaited him at the Lyon’s Den gambling club, and he had every intention of making his way straight there without becoming entangled in somebody else’s affairs. Besides, the last time he’d come to the aid of a damsel in distress, it had not gone well.

The young woman was subjecting him to a sober perusal, and he wondered what he must look like to her, dressed up to the nines, his jacket tailored as tightly as Beau Brummel’s, his unruly blonde hair well-suited to the windswept style, and a swelling eye. Part of him wanted to inform the young lady at once that he hadn’t been the loser in the battle with Sutton, and that he had every intention of evening the score, but why should he care what she thought of him? This was his carriage, his ghastly day… and she wasn’t likely to make it any better.

When she pushed her water-blackened hair back from her face, he noticed a pair of intelligent blue eyes peering out from an elfin face with a determined chin. “Oh, I am desolated,” she exclaimed. “I have broken your beautiful cane.”

“Never mind that. Coachman!” He rapped on the roof of the carriage with what remained of the lion-headed cane. “Halt!”

The woman glanced fearfully through the window and pulled her cloak tightly about her neck. “Please, no, sir! He’ll see me if you set me down now. Please—can we not just go a few more blocks? I cannot allow him to catch me.”

Author Bio: USA TODAY bestselling author Elizabeth Keysian writes richly researched historical romance set in Regency England, Tudor Britain and the mysterious landscapes of Dartmoor. She has completed a series for Dragonblade Publishing called Trysts and Treachery, and contributed three Regency romances to their Lyon’s Den Connected World line, with one more still to come. Though primarily a writer of romance, she loves to put a bit of mystery, adventure, and suspense into her stories, and refuses to let her characters take themselves too seriously. Elizabeth likes to write from experience, not easy when her works range from the medieval to the Victorian eras. However, her passion for re-enactment has helped, as have the many years she spent working in museums and British archaeology. If you find some detail in her work you’ve never come across before, you can bet she either dug it up, quite literally, or found it on a museum shelf. She puts out the occasional newsletter when there are books, contests, and bargains to promote.

Social media links and website:

Website: https://elizabethkeysian.co.uk

Free short story: https://elizabethkeysian.co.uk/landers/free-short-story-offer

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/elizabeth-keysian

Facebook Profile: https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.keysian

Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/LizKeysian/

Newsletter: https://preview.mailerlite.io/forms/779677/180462996562118030/share

X: https://twitter.com/EKeysian

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/lizkeysian1/

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ladies in Breeches!

By

On July 9, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dearest Readers:

Our correspondent from Cheltenham delivers the most surprising intelligence that Lady B— and her husband have arrived in town, he to devote himself to the gaming tables and his lady to exhibit the latest fashions at the various spas and promenades. It would seem that Lady B— has acquired an enthusiasm for the theater, for she gave her name to support a recent exclusive matinee performed at Suffolk House, currently occupied by the Viscount A— while the Earl and Countess grace us here in London with their company.

Our correspondent, who is intimately acquainted with the house in question, suggests that the Viscount might have wished to delight his guests by showing them the results of the recent renovation, which borrows the most gracious and elegant inspiration from the Italian style in the hands of Cheltenham’s newest architect, Mr. Dante Manelli, lately of London. Curiously enough, our friends inform us that Mr. Manelli had a previous acquaintance with Lady B—, which ended upon her marriage to his lordship.

The subsequent rift between the two does not bode to be mended upon their reunion, for it is reported that Mr. Manelli has been much seen in the company of a leading actress from the troupe lately favored by Viscount A—, who is housing them in his home. This Miss Evans, a young woman from Wales, is the same who our faithful readers will recall so charmed London a few Seasons ago as the ward and friend of Lady P—, wife of the Viscount P—.

It is reported by our faithful correspondent that Lady B—‘s matinee made a signal impression due to the performance of women in several of the leading roles, which included Miss Evans offering a most startling and original interpretation of Hamlet, the role beloved of Garrick and Kemble. While your loyal reporter understands that not all of our readers can approve of women in breeches roles, our correspondent reminds us that the peerless Mrs. Siddons played Hamlet in a performance in Dublin that became universally celebrated.

In the same vein, Miss Evans appears to be gaining renown in Cheltenham, but our correspondent reports that one of her more interesting roles appears to be as the recipient of the affections of Mr. Dante Manelli. The two have been spotted promenading outside of Thompson’s Spa, and our correspondent reports that Mr. Manelli has invited the troupe of actors to tour the house he is building Charlton Kings.

What will his former inamorata Lady B— think of Mr. Manelli’s new infatuation, one might wonder? Will the seeming affection between Mr. Manelli and Miss Evans give us a comedy leading to love and marriage, or will it prove a tragedy in the end? Your faithful reporter can only assure you, dear reader, that the depths of the human heart remain as great and powerful a mystery as ever. But should interesting events unfold in Cheltenham, you may rely on our faithful correspondent to rise to the task.

Until then, may your tea be always warm and your cream always sweet.

The Gentleman’s Leading Lady

The lady least likely to: let a pretend courtship become real.

She’s got her heart set on the role of leading lady.

Cerys Evans ran away from her family to make her way on the stage, wanting a name that was all her own. But when the theater burns down, her options are to slink home a failure, or help her troupe build new premises and finally prove her place among them. The only obstacle: she’ll have to work with the arrogant Dante Manelli, Cheltenham’s rising architect, who is most decidedly not a gentleman.

He’s set his heart on her.

Dante Manelli has fought for every inch of his success, and he’s not going to let the taunts of a saucy actress distract him. But she’s offering a project that can cement his career, and when she creates a ruse to free Dante from an old nemesis, she soon has all of Cheltenham believing they are not just co-conspirators but lovers. The more time he spends with her, the more tempted Dante is to make their play real.

But Miss Cerys Evans is meddling with a dangerous rival—one who will do anything to end her hopes. And when her past comes back to find her, Dante must fight to prove himself the gentleman worthy of her hand and deserving of her heart.

For two souls struggling to establish their place in the world, there might be only one place they each belong: together.

An excerpt featuring their first kiss:

“I might have led her ladyship to believe you have a tendre for me.”

“You little—” The words ended in a growl. “Minx. You enjoy toying with people, don’t you?”

Cerys raised her chin to stare him full in the face. His entire body tensed. The visible eyelid flickered. He was like a figure from a masque, half light and half shadow, half angel, half dark god.

“And you, manipulative baggage that you are, intend to rescue me.”

She closed her eyes briefly at the effect his gravelly voice had on her.

“Hardly a rescue.” She forced her tone to lightness. “A negotiation. I am making you indebted to me so you will build us a theater.”

He shifted slightly. The space between them lessened. He smelled wonderful, a blend of port and orange and spices.

“You suppose,” he ground out, “that spreading tales about my affections is the way to put me in your debt?”

“Do you disdain to work with actors? Can we not elevate you enough that a commission from us would be worth your time? No, we are not lords or wealthy tradesmen, so perhaps you despise—”

She stopped when his hand covered her mouth. Her knees nearly buckled at the contact of his skin, the weight, the maddening heat of him.

His fingers cupped her cheek, the lightest touch. She sucked in air.  The part of his mouth she could see quirked in a smile. “Lady Disdain is going to lecture me about contempt? I am in no position to look down on anyone.”

She couldn’t seem to haul enough air into her lungs. She’d never kissed a man, not an actual man, not a proper kiss. What if it was awful? She couldn’t understand why she wanted so badly something that might be so terrible, and she stared at his lips, willing him, willing him—

“I go too far.” He loosened his arm from the wall and stepped back. “I—”

With a small, inarticulate groan, Cerys buried her fingers in his cravat and pulled his face to hers.

His mouth touched her mouth, and it was marvelous. A spark caught and then flared as those lips moved on hers, tentative, searching.

“Minx,” he growled in warning.

This was wrong. This was madness. She dug her fingers in his cravat, holding him. She wanted more of this. Dante, kissing her, forever.

~~~

The Gentleman’s Leading Lady, out now from Oliver Heber Books, is Book 12 in the Ladies Least Likely series. This is a grumpy/sunshine Regency romp with a pretend courtship, a headstrong actress, a starchy half-Italian architect, women in breeches, a villainess ex, and some sensual, stolen kisses.

Buy the book: https://books2read.com/u/m2gZBO

About the Author:

Misty Urban is a medieval scholar, freelance editor, and college professor who likes to write stories about misbehaving women who find adventure and romance. She lives in the Midwest in a little town on a big river with a handsome park ranger, two budding authors, and an ever-growing collection of books.

More about Misty: https://www.mistyurban.com

Find Misty online: https://linktr.ee/mistyurban

 

A Gentleman of Shadows… and a Lady Who Dares the Light

By

On April 29, 2026

In Teatime Tattler

Dear Readers,

There are whispers—quiet ones, of course, though no less persistent—of a certain gentleman who has long preferred the company of shadows to that of society.

Marcus Wolfton. Some call him Wolf.

Not for cruelty, as one might assume, but for something far more unsettling. Control. Precision. A man who does not lose himself… not to temper, not to indulgence, and certainly not to affection.

He has not been seen often of late. And when he is, it is said he keeps to the edges of a room, observing rather than engaging. One cannot help but wonder what thoughts occupy a man so determined to remain apart.

Yet what has truly set tongues wagging is not the gentleman himself… but the quiet change within his household.

There is a child.

A boy, by all accounts withdrawn, who has not been heard at the pianoforte in some time. Once lively, now silent.

Until recently.

A new presence has been noted. A lady—not one given to spectacle or social maneuvering, which makes her all the more intriguing. She does not command attention, yet it follows her. And where she walks, something curious seems to unfold.

It began, so the story goes, with a single note.

Then another.

And now… there are moments—fleeting, fragile—where music has been heard once more within those walls.

What role this lady plays in such a transformation remains to be seen. But one cannot ignore the timing. Nor the effect.

As for Mr. Wolfton…

Those who have glimpsed him of late suggest something has shifted. Not in manner, not in bearing—but in the space between one breath and the next. As if the stillness he has so carefully maintained has begun, ever so slightly, to give way.

Whether this is a passing influence or the beginning of something far more dangerous remains uncertain.

After all, society has long known that shadows serve a purpose.

But when a man steps out of them…

He risks far more than exposure.

The Lyon’s Shadow

by Ruth A. Casie

Sometimes it’s not the darkness that holds a man… but the fear of stepping into the light.

Marcus Wolfton, known only as Wolf, has lived his life in the shadows—controlled, precise, untouchable. A man shaped by duty and loss, he guards his world carefully… especially the quiet grief of a son who no longer plays the piano.

Until her.

Steady where he is guarded and warm where he has gone cold, she reaches for the broken places he has long kept hidden. And when silence begins to give way to something more, Wolf is faced with a truth he cannot outrun.

Some shadows are meant to protect.
Others… must be left behind.

Purchase Link

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GX2VK74R

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-lyon-s-shadow-the-lyon-s-den-connected-world-by-ruth-a-casie

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/251051833-the-lyon-s-shadow

Excerpt

Henry hesitated at the pianoforte, his small hand hovering above the keys.

Marcus stood just inside the doorway, unseen. Waiting.

“Just one note,” she said gently.

Her voice did not press. It did not coax. It simply remained.

The boy glanced up at her, uncertainty flickering across his face. Then, slowly, he lowered his finger.

One note sounded.

Soft. Fragile. Barely there.

Marcus felt it like a strike to the chest.

Henry stilled, as if the sound itself had startled him.

“It’s all right,” she said, her tone warm and steady. “You’ve already done the hardest part.”

Marcus exhaled, though he had not realized he’d been holding his breath.

The room shifted. Not in sound, not in movement, but in something deeper. Something he had not allowed himself to feel in a very long time.

Hope.

It had no place here.

And yet it lingered.

Henry pressed another key.

Then another.

Not a melody. Not yet. But more than silence.

Marcus stepped forward before he could stop himself.

The floor creaked beneath his boot.

Henry froze.

She turned.

Their gazes met.

There was no surprise in her expression. Only quiet understanding, as if she had known he was there all along.

And in that moment, Marcus realized something far more dangerous than broken silence had entered his home.

Not music.

Not even hope.

Her.

👤 About the Author

USA Today Bestselling Author Ruth A. Casie writes historical romance filled with emotional depth, compelling characters, and stories where love is earned, tested, and ultimately triumphant.

Social Links

 

Page 1 of 48

Next

Powered by WordPress & Theme by Anders Norén