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A Most Disturbing Report of a Royal’s Dire Jeopardy!

A most noble lady

Gentle Reader,

Is there anyone who doesn’t love a royal? Well, clearly, there is because we are extremely disturbed to inform you that the newest amongst our ranks has suffered not one but two attempts on her life! And yet, despite this horrors of such a thing occurring to one who could possibly be the sweetest, most demure royal we have ever encountered, she was seen at a ball less than twenty-four hours after her latest attack! Not only that, but telling anyone and everyone who would listen how imperative it is that she stand up not only herself, but her country, and the memory of her dearest, departed brother. We were nearly swooning at the girl’s bravery! I tell you, dear reader, if anyone can capture the villain responsible for attempting to harm our beloved princess, he will be declared a hero in truth.

In Lieu of a Princess by Meredith Bond

“This isn’t her Royal Highness,” the headmistress told the man and the woman who were staring at Lucinda with their mouths hanging open.

“But it could be.”

These words turn the life of Lucinda North upside down. Within hours, she agrees—against her better judgement—to impersonate the missing Princess Louisa of Aachen-Düren. Within a week, she meets the queen and the handsome and charming Lord Melfield. Within the month, she is living at Buckingham Palace, lying about her true identity not only to Queen Charlotte, but to all of Regency society, while someone is trying to kill her. Within her lifetime, she will never regret a moment of it.

 Anthony Melfield would rather not waste his time helping a spoiled princess learn how to conduct herself. He would certainly rather not have to return to society after a heartbreak. And he most definitely would rather not have feelings for the princess, no matter how sweet, funny, and beautiful she is. To top it all, he would much rather not have to use his skills to save her life and figure out who wants her dead.

Hidden identities, a princess on the run, and three lives at stake… despite this, these royals and rebels must learn to trust and open themselves to a lifetime of love.

Purchase Link at Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lieu-Princess-Royals-Rebels-Book-ebook/dp/B0BL1886VZ  This book is enrolled in Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt: 

“You said you had an opening for a language teacher? I, er, I brought references as you asked. I’m afraid two of them aren’t in English, but I do hope that won’t be too much of a problem,” Lou said, fumbling as she opened her portfolio while still standing in front of the headmistress. “I also have an essay which I—”

“But you look…” the woman started, completely ignoring the letters Lou was trying to hand her. “You are the spitting—”

“She cannot be found anywhere. I have ridden…” A man’s deep, accented voice made Lou spin around. “Oh! Eure Hoheit! Meine Prinzessin! Wo bist du gewesen?” He started to scold her gently in German before Lou held up a hand. He was a large man, probably a full foot taller than Lou, and looked strong enough to pull a horse rather than the other way around. His pale blond hair was windblown, and he was wearing riding clothes. He smelled as if he’d been in the saddle for some time.

“I’m terribly sorry,” she told him in German, “but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else. I am Lucinda North. I’m here to apply for a teaching position.”

He stopped and stared at her as if she had just grown a second head. “Was? Ist das eine Art Spiel?” He gave her a tentative smile.

Lou shook her head. “No. This is no game. Truly, I—”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Another woman joined them, also speaking German. “Where were you, Your Highness? You should know better than to scare us like that!”

“It’s not her,” the man said, turning to the middle-aged woman. She had dark blonde hair pulled into a tight chignon and a fashionable yet sensible gown of deep blue that made her cheeks look flushed.

“What do you mean? What nonsense are you—” The woman came forward and stopped just in front of Lou. Her eyes widened. “Your eyes. They are brown. Why are your eyes brown?”

“This isn’t Her Royal Highness,” Mrs. Carter told the man and the woman who were now staring at Lou with their mouths hanging open.

“It could be,” the woman said in strongly accented English. She stared at Lou as if she were a painting, examining every detail. “She’s got the same heart-shaped face, the same features, her height, build… She even has the same shade of blonde hair… But for the eyes.”

“What are you saying, woman?” the man snapped, turning to look at the lady.

“Who is she?” the woman asked the headmistress, ignoring him.

“She’s here for a teaching position,” Mrs. Carter told them.

The Author, Meredith Bond

Meredith Bond’s books straddle that beautiful line between historical romance and fantasy. An award-winning author, she writes fun traditional Regency romances, medieval Arthurian romances, and Regency romances with a touch of magic. Known for her characters “who slip readily into one’s heart,” Meredith loves to take her readers on a journey they won’t soon forget.  

Merry loves connecting with readers. Be sure to find her:

Website: https://meredithbond.com

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Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Meredith-Bond/e/B001KI1SNE/

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Newsletter: http://meredithbond.com/subscribe/

Must we speak ill of a gentleman returned from the wars? Never!

Dear readers,

No one likes to speak ill of a gentleman returned from the wars.

We must pay our respects to that country baronet who has returned as gallantly as any ancient knight to take on his father’s title.

And surely all will… if Sir M. is ever seen at any social function, here or in the country, at all.

Apparently the gentleman is of good nature apart from the occasional raising of his voice. He has not inherited the icy sharp tongue of his mother, that Miss H. our readers may still remember for her public and very cutting rejection of her most highly-placed suitor.

Indeed, if the rustic reports are true, Sir M. is appropriately and publicly entertaining a young lady at his estate right now. And whether she is teaching him to ride again after the loss of his leg, or whether she is, as reported, a distant relative making him a gift of a biddable horse, surely the gentleman will be of better temper once he is astride again.

In this warm summer weather, it is only reasonable to venture abroad for fresher air, and if anyone happens upon a party with Sir M., they may confirm for themselves that his tendency to take off his coat in company is his only real fault.

There is nothing to the speculation that Sir M. has given shelter to a French spy, or that he has grown dissolute in his rural isolation. The gentleman remains gallant to anyone ladylike, and is far too clever to risk his reputation on anyone not like a lady.

* * *

Not Like a Lady

Letty’s lost everything but one friend, and her horse.

She desperately needs to convince the fierce baronet to buy any horse but hers.

Now she’s causing her own problems, because she can’t stop touching the man she wanted to hate.

The only way Sir Michael Grantley knows how to be the baronet of Roseford is to do what his father did. But he’s not his father; he’s a salty ex-sailor who lost half a leg in the war with a far worse temper. Struggling to be the new baronet, he’s desperate to get outdoors again – but for that he needs a biddable horse he can ride. He’s not prepared for the horse to come with a woman who wants her own life… and who decides that the key to her future is helping him ride again.

Letty has never been anything even close to a lady. Sir Michael imagines that the lady of Roseford Manor will be like his mother: calm and elegant. Neither of them can resist the one person they ought to refuse.

A sensual, engrossing, enchanting romance between two people who can’t keep their hands off one another.

Amazon: https://geni.us/notlikealady

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/id1610132457

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/not-like-a-lady-1

Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Judith_Lynne_Not_Like_a_Lady?id=2BhYEAAAQBAJ

All buy links: https://find.judithlynne.com/950hat9ifa

EXCERPT:

“It’s hopeless.”

Michael swung himself down from the ropes using the handrails, and had only taken one crutch from Letty’s waiting hands to swing only a step or two away and then collapse on the cool grass.

Letty dropped his coat on his stomach quite unceremoniously, then plopped herself down on the grass next to him.

“Hopeless might be too strong a word,” she said but her dubious tone said that on the other hand, it might not.

Maggie had spent at least two hours walking in circles.

Michael’s thighs were aching and his frustrations had peaked at least twenty minutes ago. “Hopeless.”

Letty was watching Maggie crop placidly at the grass. Of all of them, she had to admit, Maggie looked the least exhausted. She had an infinite supply of patience, that horse. If the human wanted to walk around in circles forever, then by all that was holy, she would walk around in circles forever.

“I think we have to take off the stirrup.”

“Oh, do you?”

Letty looked down at Michael’s sweating, angry face. “I have not seen you sarcastic before, sir.”

“Does it not increase my lordly appeal?”

“I don’t know what that might be, but I daresay even without knowing what a lordly appeal should look like, I think that it does not.”

Michael sighed and closed his eyes.

She let him lie there for a moment, then one of her hands covered his and she said softly, “Don’t be discouraged, Michael, truly. It is only the first day.”

He opened his eyes and looked up at her where she sat by his side. Even the sky was gray to match his mood, but she still had her sunny hair and sunny smile, and they eased something in his chest.

He said, “If you are using my given name to appease my bad mood, it is working.”

* * *

Judith Lynne writes rule-breaking romances with love around every corner. Her characters tend to have deep convictions, electric pleasures, and, sometimes, weaponry.

She loves to write stories where characters are shaken by life, shaken down to their core, put out their hand… and love is there.

A history nerd with too many degrees, Judith Lynne lives in that other paradise, Ohio, with a truly adorable spouse, an apartment-sized domestic jungle, and a misgendered turtle. Also an award-winning science fiction author and screenwriter, she writes passionate Regency romances with a rich sense of place and time.

Come chat!

https://twitter.com/judithlynnepub

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Prepare yourselves, this Season, for the Battle of the Sexes!

It has come to this author’s attention that a plot of seduction is afoot. While gentlemen of the ton are known for their penchant for seducing the fairer sex, one particular set is rumoured to have taken seduction to new heights.

The rakish and, frankly, piratically handsome Duke of P—, has been overheard taking bets in the billiards room of a certain gentlemen’s club on St James’s. While this particular club is known for its bet book containing all manner of nonsensical wagers, the latest bets to enter the ledger are rumoured to have taken a more salacious turn—to seduce a number of women, to order.

Who might the unsuspecting victims be? This author suspects them to be the inmates of S— House, an establishment owned and occupied solely by women. The dashing Colonel F—, recently returned from the militia, and one of His Grace’s closest friends, has been seen entering S— house, allegedly for the purpose of taking pianoforte lessons. If a man indulging in music lessons isn’t enough to arouse suspicion, let me tell you, dear reader, that S—House is the ancestral home of none other than the Duke of P—, which his grandfather lost as a result of gaming debts, and which His Grace has often declared that he’s determined to retrieve by any means necessary.

Perhaps those means include seduction. A certain Colonel F— has been seen in Hyde Park, with Mrs. B–, the resident pianoforte tutor of S—House. And, only yesterday, this author spotted Lord A—, another member of his Grace’s set, walking out with Miss R–, the renowned purveyor of lapdogs to the ladies, and resident of S— House.

But, dear reader, a man who underestimates his quarry is a fool. The women of S— House have not secured their independence through luck alone. His Grace may yet learn that while the world in which we live is undoubtedly a man’s world—an intelligent and capable woman will always triumph over a complacent man.

But, whatever fate awaits His Grace and his friends, this particular battle of the sexes promises to both amuse, and intrigue, this author for many months to come.

Seducing Sophia

The Scholars of Seduction, a band of rakes led by the Duke of Peterton, have pledged to seduce the women living at Summerton Hall, the Duke’s ancestral home—which his ancestors gambled away—in order to win it back. But a rake should never underestimate his quarry. With hearts and homes at stake, who will triumph in the Battle of the Sexes?

Colonel Adrian FitzRoy is tasked with seducing Summerton Hall’s resident music teacher, the widowed Mrs. Black. Expecting an elderly matriarch, he finds, instead, a delectable woman with an adorable young son. Soon, he questions his motives in seducing Sophia for a bet—a woman he’s in danger of falling in love with.

Sophia Black found sanctuary for herself and her young son at Summerton Hall, where she teaches the pianoforte. When she discovers that her newest pupil is an army officer, she initially turns him away, but his natural talent for music, and kindness toward her son, win her over.

Determined to protect her heart, Sophia struggles to conquer her attraction to the man who ignites previously-unknown passions with his skilful hands and scorching kisses. But when she learns of Adrian’s past, she realizes that the secret she’s harboring could destroy their friendship, and shatter her heart forever.

Extract from “Seducing Sophia”

A deep cough made her jump, and she turned around.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Not just leaning. He dominated it with his body. Broad shoulders filled out a smart, dark blue jacket, tailored to perfection. One hand was inside his pocket, the other hanging casually by his side. Long, lean fingers flexed, curled, and uncurled. Her gaze wandered over his body—the jacket, the highly polished black boots—then it settled on a pair of cream-colored breeches that fit his muscular thighs like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. 

His body was so large…

So muscular…

So male.

He shifted his weight onto one leg and crossed his ankles, almost as if his position were intended to draw her gaze toward his very maleness. Her cheeks warmed with shame, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

A deep voice spoke. “I think you’ll find my face is up here.”

Sophia looked up and her breath caught in her throat.

Clear blue eyes regarded her with appreciation. They radiated a sharp intelligence and something else—desire, and wickedness. Something she had not seen since…

She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. She curled her hands into fists only to find her palms slick.

His eyes darkened and a slight smile played on his lips while he held her gaze, as if he challenged her to look away.

But she couldn’t.

His looks conveyed a savage virility. A thick head of hair as dark as a raven’s wing surrounded a strong, angular face with dark brows, a strong, straight nose, and a full, sensual mouth.

He was, without doubt, the most handsome man she had ever seen.

Author Biography

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Emily Royal is a mathematics geek who grew up in Sussex, England and has always had a passion for romance and bad boy heroes in need of redemption. She now lives in rural Scotland with her husband, two daughters and a menagerie of pets including Twinkle, an attention-seeking boa constrictor.

Links

Website: http://www.emroyal.com/

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Twitter: https://twitter.com/eroyalauthor

Shhh. The Trouble with Governesses!

Art Institute of Chicago.

English Drawing Room of the Georgian Period, 1800. Art Institute of Chicago.

London, 1815

One would think that finding and keeping a governess would not be a difficult thing, but apparently it is for Lord Preston Ambrose, Viscount Melcombe. He has had three in less than a year but is hopeful that the fourth will prove to be suitable for his household and settle in nicely to guide his nieces for the next few years.

The trouble with governesses started last spring when Lord Melcombe became the guardian of his five nieces, ages five to fourteen. They’d had a governess at the time, but she was sacked and we’ve yet to discover why.

Once the former governess had departed, Melcombe made no effort in finding a replacement, though he knew that he should. Then, one bright winter day, Miss Althea Claywell stepped off the mail coach. Melcombe was also aware that she was running and offered her the position within his household, which she gladly accepted.

All worked out well, until the two fell in love and married. Thus, Melcombe was in need of a governess again. This time he placed an advertisement, and was hopeful when the perfect candidate replied, a Miss Katrina Carrick. In fact, he and Lady Melcombe were quite pleased with the interview, and Miss Carrick was hired. But, before she could begin her duties, love arrived to claim her.

Lord Melcombe has now contacted an employment agency and is hopeful that the woman scheduled to arrive for an interview will be the fourth and final governess to be employed for some time. However, if that does not turn out to be the case, I might suggest that any miss wishing to wed become a governess in Viscount Melcombe’s home. No doubt, you will barely be unpacked before the love you have been waiting for finds you.  

LINKS FOR THE LOVE OF A GOVERNESS SERIES:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09R26VG3L/

RELEASE DATE OF PURSUING THE GOVERNESS: April 26, 2022

EXCERPT from PURSUING THE GOVERNESS:

Regina started at the pounding on her door and stepped away.

“Regina, open this door.”

All hope of Alec thinking she was someone else fled. Or, had Lord and Lady Melcombe broken their promise and confirmed her identity?

“Open the door, Regina,” he called again.

If she remained silent, perhaps he would think she was somewhere else and go away.

“The girls told me you are in here,” he said.

She still didn’t move or answer him. It wasn’t as if he could do anything if she refused to unlock her door.

There was a sudden thud against her door and then it splintered, flying open. Regina quickly turned her back on him.

“I know it is you, Regina,” he said. “I simply wish to know why you have let me believe you were dead for a year.”

She bit her lip, not certain what to say.

“Please,” he begged in a softer tone. “Why won’t you look at me?

Tears sprang to her eyes. He couldn’t see her.

“Why?” he asked.

“It is for the best,” she finally answered.

“Best!” he yelled. “I loved you. Was in love with you. Do you know I wanted to die when I learned what happened?”

“I am sorry,” she whispered. What more could she say?

“Sorry?” he asked. “That is all you have to say! I thought you loved me as much as I loved you.”

Oh, she did. She still did. Even though Regina Rutledge died, her love for Alec had not. But she needed him to go away. “What we had is over. Please go.”

“That’s it? You are rejecting me without an explanation? One day you’re across my lap you cry out my name, and now you want nothing to do with me.”

“Please lower your voice. The girls will hear you.” She didn’t care what he thought of her, but her charges did not need to hear such talk.

“I now understand how misses and ladies feel after they have been ruined and discarded.”

Pain and anger merged within his tone, but Regina held her tongue. It was best for both of them if he hated her.

“At least face me while rejecting me after everything we shared.”

“I cannot. It’s best that you go.”

“Cannot, or will not?”

“Both.”

“If you want me to go, then you need to turn around and tell me. Swear that what we shared meant nothing to you.”

Regina had been dreading this moment, and hoped the day would never come, but Alec was going to be stubborn.

She took a deep breath and slowly turned around.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jane Charles, AuthorUSA Today bestselling author Jane Charles is a prolific writer of over fifty historical and contemporary romance novels. Her love of research lends authenticity to her Regency romances, and her experience directing theatre productions helps her craft beautiful, touching stories that tug at the heartstrings. Jane is an upbeat and positive author dedicated to giving her characters happy-ever-afters and leaving the readers satisfied at the end of an emotional journey. Lifelong Cubs fan, world traveler and mother of three amazing children, Jane lives in Central Illinois with her husband, two dogs and a cat. She is currently writing her next book and planning her dream trip to England. Be sure to join Jane on Facebook @JaneCharlesAuthor for Wine Pairings Wednesdays.

FOLLOW JANE:

Website:  https://www.janecharlesauthor.com/

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

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Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jane-charles

Jane’s Reader Group – Romance & Rosé: https://www.facebook.com/groups/778180209460172

Church Lady’s Lament

To Reverend Mr. Horace Sorsby, Vicar of Saint John the Evangelist Parish, Knaresborough

Sir:

Reluctant though I am to criticize church matters, I truly must speak up, and hope my frequent liberal contributions to your parish will gain me attention. As you know age and infirmity make it impossible for me to attend services in Knaresborough. While I am pleased that a chapel of ease has been set up here in Harrogate for the benefit of leading citizens like myself who find themselves hampered from full participation, the man assigned  it has failed us. I am compelled to report that the curate you appointed to serve my our needs has proven to be negligent and useless.

First of all, his sermons focus entirely too heavily on service due the poor, in my opinion, and too little on the respect the lower classes owe their betters. I suppose I must excuse this as he is young and does seem to have a grasp on scripture.

I excuse it mainly because I am rarely able to attend even the chapel of ease here. That curate, Mr. Eustace Clarke, has been repeatedly asked to attend me at home. We are now moving into December, and I am obliged to report he made but two visits since summer. Neither visit lasted longer than an hour. I ask, Mr. Sorsby, do you believe that shows sufficient care for a frail old woman, one I might add who has generously supported Saint John in the past?

I am quite, quite distressed to add that my precious Wellington, an extraordinarily noble pug, has taken him dislike as well. The impudent young man accused my darling Welly of damaging his boots. I cannot believe poor Welly has developed a taste for leather. He has demonstrated no such affinity in the past. I am certain Mr. Clarke enticed him as an excuse to make a quick departure.

My loyal butler reports that it appears Mr. Clarke persists in wasting his time with that pathetic little soup kitchen he calls Pilgrim’s Rest, feeding every lazy, worthless beggar that imbibes from Harrogate’s public springs but refuses to pay for his lunch. Now news has reached me that he believes he needs funds to repair the roof of that barn. I will not stand for it. I demand you order him to close that fruitless and unproductive little mission down and focus on those of us who support the parish at large as he ought.

If my words have not been enough to convince you the man needs sharp words from his superior there is this. My personal maid, a woman of fine character, has told me that he is now seen walking out with a woman employed in the kitchens of the The Hampton Hotel. What such a woman is doing sporting about town on the arm of a single man, I can only guess. The hussy’s name I’m told is Doro Bigglesworth.

I trust you will counsel your curate about proper behavior and duties. I would hate to take my contributions and charity elsewhere.

With Respect,

Lady Louella Spotsworthy

About the Book: Desperate Daughters

Love Against the Odds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can find links to various vendors here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/desperate-daughters/

 

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