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A hidden letter

Ella finished writing her name to the parchment and set the quill down to inspect her short letter to her sister. She bit her lip in indecision wondering about the possibilities of this ever reaching her sibling. Poor Jennifer must be frantic with worry after so much time but still… Could it be possible Ella was gone for only a brief instant from her future life in the twenty-first century? Time had played enough games with Ella and Killian for that matter. She was done traveling through time and was content to live out her life with those she had come to love.

The ink dry, she sealed the letter with wax and watched as Killian brought over an iron box that looked as though it could survive a century or two hidden with the stone wall of Berwyck Castle. She placed a kiss upon the parchment, set it inside the box, and Killian closed the lid with a smile.

“She will find it somehow, my dearest Ella.” His Scottish brogue brought a delightful shiver to her skin and she hoped that feeling never went away. He put the box inside the wall and proceeded to replace the stone in order to hide the box’s placement.

“Do you think so?” she asked before he took her in his arms. A small memory of Ella and her sister in a park flipped through her mind and she smiled knowing his words were true.

“Aye. Ye know she will someday know ye found love,” he whispered before he bent down and sealed his words with a kiss.

Killian gave her no further time to ponder the mysteries of them being together. Time had brought her to this man and she would never be parted from him again.


This is a small original piece by Belles Sherry Ewing. Ella Fitzpatrick is the heroine of Sherry’s newest release Love Will Find You: The Knights of Berwyck, A Quest Through Time (Book Four). If you missed the original pieces Sherry wrote for the Teatime Tattler, you can find it here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/slipping-through-time/  and https://bluestockingbelles.net/a-sister-lost-in-time/

Excerpt:

Ella’s nerves were on edge. That must be why she was feeling so anxious when she noticed Killian making his way across the hall. She reached for her chalice of wine, her fingers trembling before she managed to wrap them around the cup to take a sip without the heady red liquid spilling all over her gown. Perchance she should excuse herself and seek her chamber to rest. That was all she needed. She just had to go and rest before she left Berwyck forevermore to finally meet her destiny.

“He favors you,” Amiria’s voice was a soft whisper barely heard above the lutes playing in her hall.

There was no point in denying that she knew whom Amiria meant. “You are mistaken,” Ella replied taking another sip from her goblet before setting it upon the table. She clutched her hands together upon her lap, her knuckles quickly becoming white. Her heart tapped a ferocious beat inside her chest. This was not happening! Not when she was this close to being reunited with the one man she had crossed time for.

Amiria reached over to clasp her hands, giving them a slight squeeze. Ella turned to look upon her friend, who had given her shelter more times than she could count over the years. Amiria was a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and eyes of violet. She reminded Ella of a Viking shield maiden of old, since Amiria could wield a sword as no other woman of Ella’s acquaintance.

“I have waited many a year for some woman to catch his eye,” Amiria replied, her tone conveyed all the love she felt for the man who had watched over her like her father would have done if he yet lived.

Ella saw Killian’s progress was interrupted when he began having speech with Gregory, another of Dristan’s knights. “I have not caught his eye, my lady. Besides you know my fate lies in another direction.”

Amiria sighed, leaning over towards her husband when he whispered in her ear. She began to rise but bent over to kiss Ella’s cheek. “Be kind to him, Ella. I do not wish to see him hurt.”

Before Ella could make any reply, Amiria left to dance with her husband. They were an impressive pair, the two of them, and she was happy the couple twirling across the floor had found true love. Everyone deserved to find the person who called to them, soul to soul, Ella included.

Killian stood in front of the table clearing his throat, bringing her back to the challenge before her. “Mayhap ye would favor me with a dance, Ella?”

He appeared nervous, but the smile she gave him was genuine when he willingly dropped the whole lady business and called her only by her first name. “Aye, of course, Killian.”

His faced showed the briefest glimpse of relief before a mask of indifference fell into place. He came around the table, gave a courtly bow, and then offered his arm. Hesitant, but curious if she would have the same reaction as when she had touched him earlier, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her breath hitched at their contact. How could this be happening? She did not understand what was going on with the man who began ushering her through the patterns of a lively tune.

The other dancers upon the floor became a blur, her partner the only one who remained in focus. Each time they came together and touched, small sparks flowed like the sweetest nectar through her body. The sensation warmed her entire being, making it hard to remember the steps of the dance. Her wits surely must be addled as she continued to gaze into the hypnotizing eyes of her partner.

Killian was an accomplished dancer, of that there could be no doubt, despite him always showing the outside world a gruff appearance. He took her by the waist and lifted her high while the dance continued, his arms of steel more than capable of easily picking her up as though she weighed nothing at all. As he lowered her back to the floor, her eyes widened as she slid down his body. Her hands remained on his shoulders as they just stood there, the dance all but forgotten.

Love Will Find You:
The Knights of Berwyck,
A Quest Through Time (Book Four)

Sometimes a moment is all we have…

Ella Fitzpatrick is a woman with a secret. As she comes and goes from Berwyck Castle, seeking refuge within its gates, she yearns to be reunited with the one for whom she crossed time from the twenty-first century. She has lived another lifetime in the twelfth century waiting for the date of their reunion and it is almost upon her. But how could she have known the man she believes she loves is not the person she needs?

Killian of Clan MacLaren has been infatuated with Ella for many a year but has guarded his heart, knowing her affection lies with another. When Ella must flee Berwyck, Killian vows to escort her to her encounter with destiny. But passion flares between them and there is no doubt the bond they have is far greater than either of them expected.

Their time together is running out. Killian has a decision to make that might give him and Ella a future together. If you could change someone’s past, would you seize the moment?

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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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Family Secrets and Ghastly Deeds

To the editor, Teatime Tattler,

Dear Honoured Sir,

Though it is not in my gentle nature to speak ill of those in the highest of society’s ranks, I feel it my duty to report a most shocking miscarriage of justice. The Amesbury family, those who are relations of my lord, the Earl of Tarrington, may not be all they seem. In fact, they are, in fact, secretly villains. You see, good sir, I have information, nay, verily proof, that while they appear all that is proper and noble, with two of the family’s sons serving His Majesty’s’ army and navy, scandal and danger follow in their wake.
You see, sir, I know for a fact that the current earl married his wife under false pretenses almost too shocking to utter. Although they seem blissfully wedded now, they had most unbecoming beginnings including a false identity. Is their marriage even valid? Is their infant son a legitimate heir?

As far as the second son, it’s a well-known fact that he served as a privateer during the war. However, I have it on good authority that he was, in truth, a pirate! He was captured by His Majesty’s Navy, stood trial, and nearly met his doom at the gallows. Oh, he used an assumed name—that seems to be a family trait—but I know it was him.

The third son, alas, has always been the black sheep. He shuns society, snubbing conventions, and wearing shockingly low apparel. But this is not all; he even works—works!—with the Bow Street officers to solve cases that are best left to those of the working class. To be fair, he has saved lives, but has also taken a good many under the excuse that it was all in the line of duty. But does that include shooting peers without trial?

Though hailed as society’s golden child, the youngest Amesbury son, who most closely resembles the late earl, has the most shocking secret of all. He not only may have participated in arranging the death of a peer with the help of his brothers, but more shocking still, he even married the widow within mere weeks of the ghastly deed.

Now, I ask you, does this not bear further inquiry into the Amesbury family? Do we demand that this family answer to the laws of justice or do we let them live above the law?

The Amesbury sisters, it seems, are perfectly respectable, although one is estranged from her husband, and the other, a bluestocking spinster. This suggests that something went terribly wrong in their upbringing, does it not?

With regards to the men (I refuse to use the word “gentlemen”) of this family, I beseech you to consider my words. Since Bow Street has discounted my concerns—likely due to their familiarity with the aforementioned brother who works with Bow Street—perhaps this public revelation will put pressure on the law to do the right thing. If nothing else, the opinion of society may deliver its own form of justice.

Sincerely yours,

A concerned neighbor

About the Book

The Stranger She Married

When her parents and only brother die within weeks of each other, Alicia and her younger sister are left in the hands of an uncle who has brought them all to financial and social ruin. Desperate to save her family from debtor’s prison, Alicia vows to marry the first wealthy man to propose. She meets the dashing Lord Amesbury, and her heart whispers that this is the man she is destined to love, but his tainted past may forever stand in their way. Her choices in potential husbands narrow to either a scarred cripple with the heart of a poet or a handsome rake with a deadly secret.

Cole Amesbury is tormented by his own ghosts and believes he is beyond redemption, yet he cannot deny his attraction for the girl whose genuine goodness touches the heart he’d thought long dead. He fears the scars in his soul cut so deeply that he may never be able to offer Alicia a love that is true. When yet another bizarre mishap threatens her life, Alicia suspects the seemingly unrelated accidents that have plagued her loved ones are actually a killer’s attempt to exterminate every member of her family. Despite the threat looming over her, learning to love the stranger she married may pose the greatest danger of all, a danger to her heart.

Excerpt:

As Cole looked down into Alicia Palmer’s face, he knew of a surety she was worth any risk. She touched him in a place he’d thought long dead.

A younger man wearing a saucy grin approached Miss Palmer. “Did you save me a dance, Lissie?”

Cole’s initial irritation for the man’s cheekiness faded to puzzlement. He knew him from somewhere. A vague unease arose.

When the young man’s gaze moved to Cole, he paled visibly. “You!”

Miss Palmer gasped. “Robert Palmer, where are your manners?”

Of course. Robert Palmer. From London. Cold dread trickled  across  his  heart  as  he  considered  the ramifications.

 Palmer pinned him with a dangerous glare. “Stay away from my cousin.”

“Your cousin?” Cole looked from him to the lovely Miss Palmer and understanding dawned. He cursed under his breath. He hadn’t been aware Armand Palmer had a sister. Not that he’d bothered to find out. The possible ramifications took a more serious turn.

Miss Palmer sent Cole a look of apology and turned to her cousin. “Robert, explain yourself.”

In a cold sweat, Cole waited for her condemning stare.

Palmer trembled in rage. He spoke quietly, but each word shot through Cole like bullets fired at close range. “He’s the scoundrel who shot your twin.”

About the Author

Multi-award-winning author of more than twenty best-selling Regency Historical Romances, Donna Hatch is a hopeful romantic and an adventurer at heart. Each book she writes is filled with wit and heart and plenty of swoon-worthy romance. Donna sings, plays the harp, and loves to ballroom dance. Her family, including six children and two cats, recently left their native Arizona for the US Pacific coast. No matter where they live, she and her husband of over twenty years are proof that there truly is a happily ever after.

To find out more about this author and her books, visit her at:

Website: www.donnahatch.com

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1919: Letters in a Time of Epidemic

The Teatime Tattler has come into possession of a cache of letters and notes from the Kinmel Repatriation Camp, Wales. They appear to be from another time.

Elks Corner, Saskatchewan, January 15, 1919

Dear Harry,

It is glad we were to receive your Christmas greetings, even though they reached us the first week in January. Now the war is over I can tell you of the relief with every letter that came; it meant you were alive and well. This time we can breathe a permanent sigh of relief, no?

As to your question, yes, the influenza found the province, but we got off easy here in Elks Corner. A few folks came down sick. Old Mrs. Butterworth, you may remember from church when you visited us summers—she was ninety—didn’t make it. Come November the epidemic died back mostly. Your grandmother and I escaped it entirely.

Christmas in Ypres, huh? Maybe next year we’ll see you here at the farm again. Your grandmother is already planning what to bake.

She tells me to stop writing nonsense and just send her love.

Grandpa Matthews.

Letters and Notes

Ypres, Belgium, January 16, 1919

Dear Madame Laporte,

It is my sad duty to report that your son Emile, corporal in my unit, passed away in the army hospital in Ypres. He fought bravely alongside my company through three years of the war, only to succumb, worn out by fighting, to the demonic Spanish flu. He was buried with honors in the cemetery near Elverdinghe, along with hundreds of his fallen comrades. I was with him in the end; he died peacefully.

Lieutenant Henry W. Wheatly, Canadian Expeditionary Force

To: The priests remaining at the cathedral, Amiens, France, January 16, 1919

Reverend fathers,

I write again in hope you have some word of Rosemarie Legrand, resident of Les Hortillonnages Amiens. We lost touch some months ago, and it is imperative that I find her. I am currently confined to the Kinmel Repatriation Camp near Bodelwyddan in Wales. They plan to send us home. I need to find Rosemarie and marry her quickly so I can arrange passage as a war bride.

I continue to hope that my old friend Abbé Dejardins has returned.

Lieutenant Henry Wheatly, Canadian Expeditionary Force

letter marked returned to sender
Amiens Cathedral

January 27, 1919, Regina, Saskatchewan,

Dearest Harry,

Just the one letter after Armistice telling us you are well? Not well done of you.

Your father has been bursting with pride since word of your promotion came and he is anxious—we both are frantic, really—to have you back. He heard your regiment has been delayed in some pokey camp in Wales waiting for transport home, and he is furious. He has taken the lieutenant-governor to task, I can tell you.

Please write often.

Love, Mom

Letters and Notes

February 5, 1919

My darling Rosemarie,

I am writing once again to your cottage among the islands of les hortillonnages. I pray that you and Marcel have returned there safely. Send word to me at the address on this envelope and I will come immediately. Your letters to me have gone astray and I suspect mine to you as well.

Please know that I love you and that has not changed.

Harry

letter marked undeliverable and returned
Rosemarie Legrand

February 10, 1919

Mother,

Sorry I have not written often. Even though the fighting has stopped, my life is not my own. Please tell Father to stay away from the lieutenant-governor and to stop sending me letters about what he wants me to do when I get home.

Harry

To Sabine Legrand, Rue du Moulin Neuf, Amiens, France, February 18, 1919

Madam

We have not had the best of relations in the past. I write to beg, however, for any word of your sister-in-law Rosemarie. I am frantic to find her.

Lieutenant (formerly Corporal) Henry Wheatly

A note on the returned envelope :
Monsieur Wheatly, Sabine fled to Marseilles when the Krauts advanced in the summer. She has not returned.
S. Thierot, neighbor
Letters and notes

February 24, 1919

To whom it may concern:

It has come to our attention that no action was taken on our recommendation of commendation for Pvt. Ezekiel Willard for his actions at Vimy Ridge. As we wrote, he charged into a gun nest, capturing the gun and several enemy single handedly, likely saving two of our squads during the first day of the offensive. Witnesses can be supplied, but they will soon be repatriated and dispersed. We urge action on this.

Lieutenant Henry W. Wheatly
Sergeant Angus McNaughton

Telegram

February 28, 1919

From: Lieutenant Henry W. Wheatly, Kinmel Repatriation Camp, Wales

To: Mrs. Martha Wheatly, 538 West Marlboro, Regina, Saskatchewan

Mother: Tell father to cease writing to Gen Fitzgibbon. STOP Tell him I demand it. STOP Don’t listen to stories about Spanish Flu. STOP Have things to do before I come home. STOP Be there soon.

Harry.

March 5, 1919

Willard,

Tell the boys the Spanish crap got the lieutenant. He’s in hospital. He says watch your back from Walker. Get me if you need me.

Mac

Telegram

March 18, 1919

From: Lieutenant Henry W. Wheatly, Kinmel Repatriation Camp, Wales

To: Mrs. Martha Wheatly, 538 West Marlboro, Regina, Saskatchewan

I am well. STOP. Don’t listen to Father. STOP Down with influenza but recovered. STOP Do not worry.

Harry

March 21, 1919

Regina, Saskatchewan,

Dearest Harry,

Your father tells me you’ve gone off in search of a woman. She obviously means the world to you. Go get her Harry, and bring her so we can meet her.  Ignore your father’s interference, I beg you. He means well, truly.

Please take care of yourself, darling boy. You haven’t been well. Find your Rosemarie and come home.

Love,

Mother

About the Book

After two years at the mercy of the Canadian Expeditionary force and the German war machine, Harry ran out of metaphors for death, synonyms for brown, and images of darkness. When he encounters color among the floating gardens of Amiens and life in the form a widow and her little son, hope ensnares him. Through three more long years of war and its aftermath, the hope she brings keeps Harry alive.

Rosemarie Legrand’s husband left her a tiny son, no money, and a savaged reputation when he died. She struggles to simply feed the boy and has little to offer a lonely soldier, but Harry’s devotion lifts her up. The war demands all her strength and resilience,  but the hope of peace and the promise of Harry’s love keep her going.

In the confusion at war’s end, will their love be enough?

More information and buy links: https://www.carolinewarfield.com/bookshelf/christmas-hope/

About the Author

Caroline Warfield grew up in a perapatetic army family and had a varied career (largely around libraries and technology)before retiring to the urban wilds of Eastern Pennsylvania, and divides her time between writing and seeking adventures with her grandbuddy and the prince among men she married.

Harry’s lovely story is a departure. She writes primarily family-centered Victorian and Regency novels and believes firmly that love is worth the risk.

Scandal in the Church

While perusing the dusty records of St. Ignatius All Angels Church, our humble reporter, discovered a pair of cryptic letters between the parish vicar and a benighted parishioner. If only we knew the story behind these letters. What a tale that would be!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

15 November 1816

The Reverend Albion Stern, St. Ignatius All Angels Church, 18 Clappersgate, Oxford

Dearest Mr. Stern,

As a constituent of your parish in good standing with God Almighty and the Church of England, I feel it my duty, nay, my righteous obligation to inform you of a most unseemly affair involving two misguided members of your flock. I wish not to gossip, but my conscience compels me to share the sordid details if only to protect the tender sensibilities of our impressionable youth.

As you know, the families of Mr. Adam Ashford and Miss Jane Hancock have been engaged in a distasteful feud for nigh on seven decades. Some two months ago, both families fell under a financial cloud that drew them to the brink of shameful bankruptcy. Rather than facing the appropriate consequences, Mr. Ashford and Miss Hancock absconded on a fool’s errand to the nether realms of England – together, and with only the merest of chaperones. While this news is indeed shocking, the events of their subsequent journey serve to mortify.

I have it on good faith from a reputable source that while gallivanting about the country these foolish youngsters fell into the company of sailors, drunks, rabble, poets, lawyers, and all other manner of low folk. They rode swine wagons in one another’s company, broke into a garrisoned fortress through subterfuge, and communed with druids. They slept on floors, in fields, and in public places as if common vagrants. They traipsed through church graveyards with fanciful tales of giants and no respect for the dead. They dug through any number of ruins, hollows, and holes in the ground in search of unholy treasure. It was said even that they walked with Beelzebub. All the while, they engaged in very public acts of congress, including the holding of hands and, yes, the impassioned locking of lips.

As a humble parishioner, I believe it only appropriate to bring this ignoble matter to your venerable attention. These events leave me deeply disturbed. Your swift condemnation of Mr. Ashford and Miss Hancock would put my heart at ease and my soul at rest.

Sincerely,

Phineas T. Lilywhite

Scandal in the Church

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

19 November 1816

Mr. Phineas T. Lilywhite, Number 5 Grapevine Way, Oxford

Dear Mr. Lilywhite,

You have my deepest gratitude for bringing this matter to my attention. I wholeheartedly agree. You are indeed deeply disturbed. For this malady, I will offer heartfelt prayers of intercession on your behalf.

Regarding the rumors, I can confirm their veracity. Your source relayed the events of the affair between Mr. Ashford and Miss Hancock with a commendable degree of accuracy and detail. However, as your vicar, I consider it my obligation to instruct you spiritually in this matter. I will do so by referencing two holy scriptures. First, consider Matthew 5:44, where the Good Lord admonishes us to love our enemies. Mr. Ashford and Miss Hancock have practiced this particular teaching far beyond anything I have witnessed before. My heart swells with pride.

Second, consider Proverbs 26:3 – “You must whip a horse, you must bridle a mule, and you must beat a fool.” For the sake of your physical health, I pray that you will take less interest in the affairs of others and more interest in maintaining open eyelids during my sermons. Perhaps then you would have heard my reading of the banns these past two Sundays and recognized the names of a particular young couple. Furthermore, you would have known that Beelzebub will be in attendance at the wedding and that you should therefore take appropriate precautions.

Grace and Peace to You, sir, and give my regards to your poor, miserable wife.

Sincerely,

Mr. Albion Stern, St. Ignatius All Angels Church

Scandal in the Church

About the Book

The Hancocks and Ashfords have had a long-standing feud between their families long before Miss Jane Hancock couldn’t stand the sight of gentleman farmer Adam Ashford. But after both families fall on hard times and an unscrupulous creditor forces Jane and Adam to sign a devil’s bargain, they’ll finally understand the true meaning of keeping your enemies close at hand.

The terms of this bargain? Locate a lost treasure shrouded in deception and mystery.

The catch? Only one can claim it to win…the loser is left to ruin.

As Jane and Adam embark on a trek throughout England they plan to hate their adversary, no matter how attractive, generous, and kind they are.

Sometimes, plans change…

About the Author

After self-publishing science fiction novels over a period of years, I made the truly odd move into historical romance. Although romance is a strong thread in nearly all my works, I came to straight-up, nothing-but-romance only after turning fifty. Since then, I am plagued by the question, “What took me so long?” My awakening began rather innocuously when I casually watched the 2015 version of Poldark. Before I knew, I was falling headlong into the abyss of historical romance and read fifteen such novels over a three-month span. However, no number could sufficiently scratch my itch for more, so I did what any writer would do and began constructing stories of my own. In April of 2019, I received my first contract with Entangled Publishing.

Keeping Secrets

Julius Caesar Ibbotson, Skating on the Serpentine, exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1796, watercolour, pen and grey ink (Eton College Collections)

Lady Prudence Danvers watched her sister Abigail from across the frozen Serpentine. Pouting, she skated her way over to a bench and plopped herself down. Tears blurred her vision. It was so unfair, she fumed. Why did Abigail constantly get the attention of all the eligible men?

She continued watching her sister and her companion skating side by side. Lieutenant Abernathy had all the qualifications of what made for a proper match. Handsome, well-mannered, and obviously he had enough money to attend all of Society’s most popular events despite his military career.

She followed him as he skated ahead of Abigail who began a conversation with some friends. Her laughter echoed on the wind causing Prudence’s mood to sour. The Lieutenant continued on without Abigail until he came close enough to Lady Constance Whittles to make her teeter on the edges of her skates. Lord Osgood took the lady’s arm to steady her even as the Lieutenant gave her a wicked grin and a tip of his cap. What appeared even more interesting was Lady Constance’s reaction as the lieutenant skated away.

Abigail was too occupied to notice the slight diversion of the Lieutenant’s affection but beamed at him when he rejoined her. The silly fool, Prudence mused even as her eyes narrowed with a devious thought. She began taking off her skates.

This tiny bit of tittle tattle was just the thing Mr. Clemens liked to receive for his Teatime Tattler. Prudence would receive a nice stipend for the information of this possible love triangle and this time she would not have to share the coins with Abigail. Giving no further thought of the disservice she might be doing to her sister, Prudence left the ice and made her way home to pen her missive to the editor.


This is an original piece with minor characters is Belle Sherry Ewing’s A Second Chance At Love that will release in the Belles’ box set, Fire & Frost on February 4th. Read on for the first encounter of Lord Osgood and Lady Constance:

Excerpt:

A rush of air left his lips as though he had been holding his breath while awaiting her answer. He stepped up to the desk and reached for her hand, kissing the air between his lips and her knuckles as any proper gentleman would. “You are very gracious, Constance. I must admit I was afraid you would hate me, considering how I left things between us.”

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I could never hate you, Digby.” A blush rushed to her cheeks at the tone of her voice. They had been on a first name basis two years ago and somehow it seemed right to call him by his given name. My word, she had missed this man.

“Then perhaps you would allow me to escort you to a meeting at the Duchess of Haverford’s residence next week on the third. I understand she is in the process of forming several committees to organize an event for The Ladies’ Society for the Care of the Widows and Orphans of Fallen Heroes and the Children of Wounded Veterans.”

Constance laughed. “You must be joking? Why, you will never get all that on any kind of a banner.”

Digby joined her and laughed. “I would never make up such a tall tale, my lady.”

“No one in their right mind would, although it does sound like a worthy cause.”

“I could not agree more, which is why I have offered my services to the gentleman’s auxiliary, whose responsibilities will include making sure you ladies are able to do your work in this dreadful weather. I knew this was just the sort of event that would be of interest to you.”

“You know me so well. I would be happy to accompany you, Digby.”

“Wonderful,” he replied with a smile. “If your aunt could join us and act as chaperone, then I could pick you both up around noon, if that is acceptable.”

“I will eagerly await next week, my lord.”

Digby took her hand again and bowed over it. “As will I, my lady.”

His gloved hand felt warm in hers. When Digby’s thumb gently caressed the back in a small circular motion, Constance’s heart leapt at the possibility that all was not lost. Her eyes went to his in a long lingering glance as pleasure swept across her entire being. She smiled, and he returned it with a smile of his own. Constance could not remember when she had ever been this happy… until the spell was interrupted. They quickly broke apart.

“I say, Lady Constance, is this gentleman bothering you?” Lieutenant Abernathy bellowed as he left the tearoom and rushed to her side. The few patrons who escaped the fog outside looked up from their books at the disturbance he was causing.

“Not at all and please lower your voice,” Constance advised sternly before remembering her manners. “My apologies. Lieutenant Abernathy may I present Lord Osgood, who is an old friend.”

The two men shook hands but, from the looks they exchanged, neither cared for the other.


A Second Chance At Love in
Fire & Frost: A Bluestocking Belles Collection
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Can the bittersweet frost of lost love be rekindled into a burning flame?

Viscount Digby Osgood returns to London after a two-year absence, planning to avoid the woman he courted and then left. Surely she has moved on with her life; even married by now. A bit of encouragement from a friend, however, pushes him to seek the lady out. Can she ever forgiven him and give them a second chance at love?

Lady Constance Whittles has only cared for one man in her life. Even after he broke her heart, it remains fixed on him. Another man tries to replace him, but she soon learns she can never feel for him a shadow of what she still feels for Digby. One brief encounter with Digby confirms it; she is more than willing to forgive him. Can they truly take up where they left off?

Charity projects and a Frost Fair on the Thames bring them together, but another stands in their way. Will he tear them apart?

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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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