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Napoleon Is Not Britain’s Worst Enemy

Dateline: European Battlefront, Fall 1809

Dear Readers,

I beg of you indulge this poor author for deviating from the Tattler’s normal publication of humorous and tittilating information. A desparate situation has arisen with in our armies on the continent, which is like to win The Corsican’s victories for him.

How could that possibly be when British Forces are the best equipped, best trained in the world? In a word, FEVER. This month sees campaigns at both Guadiana in Spain and Walcheren in the Netherlands where our armies are decimated, not by powder and shot, but by insidious fever that strikes without warning.

Casualties number in the thousands with countless more of our brave lads unable to stand and fight. Medical staff are over worked and supplies to fight this invisible enemy are small.

 A Mrs. C., whose son serves in the Royal Fusiliers received word from him of dire conditions.

“[N]o ventilation, twenty men sick in the room, of whom about eighteen died. In this place there were [sic] one door, and one chimney, but no windows. Relapse again; deaf as a post; shirt unchanged and sticking to my sore back; ears running stinking matter; a man lying close on my right hand with both his legs mortified nearly to the knees, and dying. A little sympathy would have soothed, but sympathy there was none.”*

We know well that our women, Ladies or otherwise, cannot go to war personally. However, you can send support. Medical and cleaning supplies (see the list on page seven) are desparately needed. Letters of encouragement, sympathy and hope are needed to give our soldiers the will to continue, to fight to regain their health for confrontations on the battlefield.

Do not allow this sickness to win Napoleon’s war for him. Act Now! Organize, cooperate with churches and charities to send all possible aid to Britain’s only defense against the Coriscan’s aim to conquer England. With your help we can rise victorious over all enemies.

The Tattler is interested in news of your efforts and promises complete discretion to any who wish to share their efforts and contributions to aid our Military.

*This quote was copied from an article by Andrew Bamford.

Scandalous Reports From Yorkshire

10 January 1818

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

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

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

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

About the Book: Anna’s Refuge

Ruined by one brother. Redeemed by the other.

From the glitter of Regency London…

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

To the grit of industrial Leeds…

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

In a winter of impossible choices…

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

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An excerpt

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I… He…”

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

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

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

“I can’t,” she mumbled. “I must—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it was necessary.

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

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

She wanted to cry.

About the Author, Kerryn Reid

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

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

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

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

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

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A Country Wedding

Clemens,

Regarding the recent marriage of the Earl of Chadbourn to that country mouse who appears to be some sort of relative of his late brother-in-law, I found the affair to be respectable enough but woefully modest for a man of his stature. I suppose some find a village church wedding charming, but your readers would no doubt prefer to hear about a fully realized society affair at Saint George, Hanover Square, or even Saint Paul’s. Still, I managed to unearth a few tidbits to report, per your request.

The Landrum family was out in force of course, even Lady Flora who so scandalously married in a rush. There was much talk about the hurry, because the family was in mourning for her sister’s husband. Neither she nor her new spouse, Lord Ethan Alcott—who makes no effort to disguise the obvious deformity he brought back from war—appeared the slightest concerned about talk. Her attendence was particularly shocking, when her obvious queasiness gave evidence that she anticipates an interesting event.

Of more interest to your readers, Lord Ethan’s brother, the very eligible Viscount Penrhyd, who is after all the heir to a Marquess, attended. He escaped entanglement last Season and showed no particular preference for any lady at the wedding, so the hopeful young women of London may take heart.

The ladies may also note that the Marquess of Glenaire stood up with Chadbourn. The man would be an breathtaking catch for any hopeful debutante—rich as Croesus, heir to the Duke of Sudbury who claims precedence following only the royal dukes, and well to look at—but alas an elusive one. Some find him as handsome as sin; I for one find him cold. Those icy blue eyes quite give one a shudder. I would warn any young lady under my patronage to avoid him.

Glenaire’s entire family attended the wedding. That the Duke and Duchess of Sudbury honored Chadbourn with their company was no surprise, given the son’s friendship. Their youngest daughter, who recently completed her second season (perhaps third, I quite forget) without a betrothal, spent the affair trying to attract the attention of Penrhyd with little success. The presence of their oldest (and let me say quite unmarried) daughter, Lady Georgiana, was the biggest surprise. They call her The Recluse of Cambridge, and she rarely appears in society.  She appeared every inch the spinster she is.

Baron Ross’s rakehell son, the Honorable James Heyworth managed to behave like a gentleman, though he imbibed a bit much. One recalls that he, Glenaire, and Chadbourn, were fast friends before war with the despicable French sent most of them off. It caused me to recall their other friend, Andrew Mallet. He lacked the connections of the other three, but went about in society with them when the four came down from university. He too went off to war and came back rather sadly scarred.

I raise his name because the presence of the others and Lady Georgiana brought to mind some old gossip. It has been several years, but I seem to recall rumors regarding the duke’s daughter and the scholar’s son. Odd that he didn’t attend, and she did. Plus, there is the Cambridge connection for I am positive he grew up there. You might want to put some of your people on it to see if there is something delicious to uncover.

I endured the wedding for your sake, my dear Clemens, overrun as it was with small boys and odd servants. (Chadbourn does hire a peculiar collection of scarred, limping, and deaf retainers, former soldiers all. Admirable, but unpleasant for his guests.) In any case I trust you to keep my name off any items you decide to publish. I do appreciate your little gifts. Leaving a packet at Williamson’s Lending Library as you have before, makes for a pleasant surprise.

Your devoted friend,

Lady Albright

About the Book

There are indeed grounds for the rumors about Lady Georgiana and Andrew Mallet. Their story is in Dangerous Works.

A little Greek is one thing; the art of love is another. 

Only one man ever tried to teach Lady Georgiana Hayden both. Now she has taken on a body of work; translating the poetry of the women of ancient Greece. If it takes a scandalous affair to teach her what she needs to complete her work, she will risk it.

Major Andrew Mallet returns to Cambridge a battle-scarred hero and would be scholar. His last encounter with Georgiana cost him eleven years of his life.  Determined to avoid her, he seeks work to heal his soul and make his scholar father proud. The work she offers risks his career, his peace of mind, and (worst of all) his heart. Can he protect himself from a woman who almost destroyed him? Does he want to?

FREE with Kindle Unlimited or for purchase at https://www.amazon.com/Dangerous-Works-Caroline-Warfield-ebook/dp/B00N9KHDWQ/

As to the Earl of Chadbourn, the story of he and his “country mouse” can be found in A Dangerous Nativity, which is always ***FREE*** at various retailers.

Lady Flora, Lord Ethan, and Viscount Penryth appear in “Lord Ethan’s Honor,” in the Bluestocking Belles’ Collection, Fire & Frost.

The very elusive Marquess of Glenaire finally gets taken down a peg or two in Dangerous Weakness, also FREE with Kindle Unlimited.

About the Author

Caroline Warfield, Bluestocking Belle and lover of romance, writes stories set in the Regency and Victorian eras from her desk in the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania when she isn’t traveling the world with her Beloved looking for interesting places to send her characters.

A New Season

London April 1821

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

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

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

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

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

About the Book

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

Excerpt from The Bachelor Duke

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

About the Author

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

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The Wicked Widow’s Club

Gentle Readers:

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

S. Clemens
Editor of the Teatime Tattler


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

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

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

“But… she just arrived last night!

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

By Sherry Ewing

It began with a memory, etched in the heart.

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

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

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

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About Bluestocking Belle Sherry Ewing:

Sherry Ewing picked up her first historical romance when she was a teenager and has been hooked ever since. A bestselling author, she writes historical and time travel romances to awaken the soul one heart at a time. When not writing, she can be found in the San Francisco area at her day job as an Information Technology Specialist.

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