Home of the Bluestocking Belles

Freya’s Folly

On April 6, 2019

Gentle Reader:

The Teatime Tattler received this aged parchment yesterday. While we puzzle over its delivery to our office, we are pleased to know brazen wenches are not new in 1815.

S. Clemens

Freya peaked around the canvas of a tent to watch the English knight as he made his way through the crowd. She had first seen him leaving his own tent this morn and on impulse she asked a nearby squire for the knight’s name. Sir Charles de Grey, she had been told, and a small smile had lit her face upon hearing it while she began following him through camp.

Heart pounding, she continued to dodge people and other obstacles in her pursuit to stay near Sir Charles. She was unprepared when he suddenly turned as though he felt her presence. She quickly ducked behind another tent in the hopes he had not caught her following him. She could not say why she was so drawn to this handsome stranger but he had certainly held her interest from afar. No harm could come from a closer look, could it?

With her chest heaving at the near thought of being found out, she dared another look only to find him gone! She stepped from her hiding place in order to once more continue her search for him. She was unprepared when her arm was taken in a fierce grip. Forced backwards against the canvas that had obviously not provided any source of concealment, she stared into the eyes of the very person who had momentarily escaped her. He was taller up close than she expected for she barely reached to his chest. With his blond hair and vivid blue eyes, she almost sighed at how handsome he was now that he stood before her. And then he spoke, and her world crashed down around her.

“Why are you following me?” he asked in an amused tone. Before she could answer, he continued, much to her dismay. “If you are looking for a bit of sport, I do not have time to dally at the moment. Perchance later, although I must admit you are prettier than most of the wenches who meander about.” He took hold of her chin as though to examine her closer before he gave her a quick kiss upon her lips.

“H-how d-dare ye kiss me?” Freya sputtered.

He began fumbling at a leather pouch upon his belt. Drawing out a coin, he held out the meager offering for her to take. “For your troubles…”

A gasp escaped her. “Do ye ken who ye are speaking tae?”

A chuckle escaped him. “Given you have been dodging my every move this morn, I assumed you were one of the women camp followers who earn their way at such events. Was I mistaken?”

He thought her a whore! His insult stung even as she knew her brother Douglas would be mortified to learn she had been following the man in the first place. Swinging her arm to smack the smirk off his face, he easily caught her hand before pulling her closer. Her breath left her while she tried to think clearly.

She began to struggle in his arms. “Ye braying arse! I am Lady Freya of Berwyck,” she shouted. He let go of her so quickly she stumbled to right herself and not land in the dirt.

“As in the sister to Laird Douglas of Clan MacLaren?” A look passed across his features showing her that he was not pleased she was associated with her brother.

“Aye. I will tell him of yer insult tae me,” she hissed.

“Tell him anything you like but for your own sake, and mine, stay away from me. I have had all I can handle from a MacLaren for one day.”

Freya continued to stare at him while he stomp away and as she watched him go, she was uncertain if she was happy or sad at his leaving.

Freya and Charles are secondary characters in Belle Sherry Ewing’s latest release: To Love A Scottish Laird: De Wolfe Pack Connected World. This novella has become a prequel to Sherry’s debut novel If My Heart Can See You. It combines the worlds of Katheryn Le Veque’s De Wolfe Pack series and Sherry’s Knights of Berwyck.

Sometimes you really can fall in love at first sight…

Lady Catherine de Wolfe knows she must find a husband before her brother chooses one for her. A tournament to celebrate the wedding of the Duke of Normandy might be her answer. She does not expect to fall for a man after just one touch.

Laird Douglas MacLaren of Berwyck is invited to the tournament by the Duke of Normandy. He goes to ensure Berwyck’s safety once Henry takes the throne. He does not expect to become entranced by a woman who bumps into him.

Yet, nothing is ever quite that simple. Not everyone is happy with the union of this English lady and a Scottish laird. From the shores of France, to Berwyck Castle on the border between their countries, Douglas and Catherine must find their way to protect their newfound love.

Excerpt:

“You can let go of me now,” she said softly, not wanting to appear ungrateful for his help. His arms dropped to his sides, and she swore she felt a loss she had never experienced before.

“Aye, of course,” he said a little too gruffly. “Mayhap we should introduce ourselves since I all but caused ye tae fall.”

“’Twas hardly your fault,” Catherine said with a small smile. “I must apologize for my clumsiness.”

“No harm was done as long as ye were not injured.”

“Nay… I am well, as you can see for yourself.”

“Ye appear very well.” A grin split his lips. He gave a short bow. “I am Douglas of Clan MacLaren and laird of Berwyck Castle. And ye are…”

She curtsied. “Lady Catherine de Wolfe.”

His brow lifted, giving evidence of his surprise. “de Wolfe?”

Catherine raised her chin. “Aye. You have perchance heard of us?” she asked. Although proud of her heritage, ’twas sometimes an inconvenience when it came to men, their ambitions, and her dowry. Dowry? When had Lord Douglas become a possibility for her husband?

He chuckled. “I would have tae be living in a hole in the ground tae have not heard of the de Wolfe family.”

Buy it on Amazon or read it now with Kindle Unlimited.

More about Sherry:

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

You can learn more about her on the tab above or visit her on one of these social media outlets:

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Outrageous Debut!

By Bluestocking Belles

On April 3, 2019

In Guest author, Teatime Tattler

Mr. S. Clemmons is alarmed to confirm the rumor running rampant for the past week that a certain Miss T*** L***, a young female of such dubious reputation that one hesitates to call her a “lady,” despite her gentle birth, will in fact affront the propriety of Society by entering the Marriage Mart this Season.

Such a young person would expect to meet with nothing but the Cut Direct she so richly deserves, were it not for the unfortunate circumstance that perhaps the most redoubtable matron in all Society, the Dowager Countess Lady S****, has inexplicably agreed to act as her sponsor.

While one would never have the temerity to question the decision of this formidable lady (or wish to risk incurring her censure,) we believe that responsible members of Society (and certainly matrons with innocent daughters to protect) will find a discrete but effective way to avoid interacting with this Infamous Personage. After sufficient discouragement, we trust that this unsuitable female will soon remove herself from the company of respectable members of Society.

Respectfully submitted, Mr. S. Clemmons

About the Book

Angered by Society’s treatment of her mother and unfounded suspicions about her character, Temperance Lattimar dreams of exploring the world, gathering treasures for her father. Hiding a dark secret, she’s determined never to marry—until her father’s restrictions on her fortune induce her to suggest a marriage of convenience to her brother’s rakish best friend, Gifford Newell. If he’ll allow her to travel as she wishes, he can use her money to further his career in Parliament.

Then a tragic accident turns this “mister” into an earl, upsetting the comfortable terms of their “marriage blanche.” Temper knows an earl needs an heir, while Gifford finds himself increasingly tempted to renegotiate their bargain of a marriage in name only–for the hoyden he once knew has become a seductively beguiling woman…

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2LtnNpC

B&N: https://bit.ly/2QKq6dK

Kobo: https://bit.ly/2BxwQRx

Google play: https://bit.ly/2PUz5Dz

~Excerpt~

London, early April, 1833

“You’re certain you won’t come with me?” Temperance Lattimar’s twin sister asked as she looked up from the trunk into which she’d just laid the last tissue-wrapped gown. “I know Bath isn’t the center of Society it used to be, but there will be balls and musicales and soirées to attend. And, with luck, attend without whispers of Mama’s latest escapade following us everywhere.”

Temperance jumped up from the window seat overlooking the tiny garden of Lord Vraux’s Brook Street townhouse and walked over to give Prudence a hug. “Much as I will miss you, darling Pru, I have no intention of leaving London. I won’t let the rumor mongers chase me away. But I do very much hope that Bath will treat you kindly—“ though I doubt it, London gossips being sure to keep their Bath counterparts updated about the latest scandal—“and that you will find that gentleman to love you and give you the normal family you’ve always wanted.” Letting her sister go, Temper laughed. “Although, growing up in this family, I’m not sure you’ll recognize ‘normal’ even if you find it.”

“You mean,” Prudence asked, irony—and anger—in her voice, “not everyone grows up with a father who won’t touch them, a mother with lovers tripping up and down the stairs every day, and rumors that only their oldest brother is really the son of their father?”

“Remember when we were little—how much we enjoyed having all those handsome young men bring us hair ribbons and sweets?” Temper said, trying to tease her sister out of her pique.

Pru stopped folding the tissue paper she was inserting to cushion the gowns and sent Temper a look her twin had no trouble interpreting.

“I suppose it’s only us, the lucky ‘Vraux Miscellany,’ who fit that sorry description,” Temper said, changing tacks, torn between sympathy for the distress of her twin and a smoldering anger for the way Society had treated their mother. “Gregory, the anointed heir, then you and me and Christopher, the…add-ons. Heavens, what would Papa have done, had Gregory not survived? He might have had to go near Mama again.”

“Maybe if he had, they’d have reconciled—whatever difficulty lay between them, and we would have ended up being a normal family.”

Temper sighed. “Is there such a thing? Although, to be fair, you have to admit that Mama has fulfilled the promise she made to us on our sixteenth birthday. She’s conducted herself with much more restraint these last six years.”

“Maybe so, but by then, the damage was already done,” Pru said bitterly. “How wonderful, at your first event with your hair up and your skirts down, to walk into the drawing room and hear someone whisper, ‘There they are–the Scandal Sisters.’ Besides, as this latest incident shows, Mama’s reputation is such that she doesn’t have to do anything now to create a furor.”

“Not when there are always block-headed men around to do it for her,” Temper said acidly. “Well, nothing we can do about that.”

After helping her twin hold down the lid of the trunk and latch it, she gave Pru another hug. “Done, then! Aunt Gussie collects you this morning, doesn’t she? So take yourself off to Bath, find that worthy gentleman, and create the warm, happy, normal family you so desire. No one could be more deserving of a happy ending than you, my sweet sister!”

“Thank you, Temper,” Pru said as her sister crossed to the door. “I shall certainly try my hardest to make it so. But…are you still so determined not to marry? I know you’ve insisted that practically since we were sixteen, but…
The dark memories struggled to surface, and Temper forced them down. “You really think I would give up my freedom, put myself legally and financially under the thumb of some man who can ignore me or beat me or spend my entire dowry without my being able to do a thing to prevent it?”

“I know we haven’t been witness to a…very hopeful example, but not all marriages are disasters. Look at Christopher and Ellie.”

“They are fortunate.”

“Christopher’s friends seem to be equally fortunate—Lyndlington with his Maggie, David Smith with his duchess, Ben Tawny with Lady Alyssa,” Pru pointed out.

Temper shifted uncomfortably. If she were truly honest, she had to admit a niggle of envy for the sort of radiant happiness her brother Christopher and his friends had found with the women they’d chosen as wives.

“Besides,” Pru pressed her point, “it’s the character of the husband that will determine how fairly and kindly the wife is treated. And we both know there are fair, kind, admirable men in London. Look at Gregory—or Gifford!”

Gifford Newell. Her brother’s best friend and carousing buddy, who’d acted as another older brother, tease, nag and friend since she was in leading strings. Although lately, something seemed to have shifted between them…some sort of wordless tension that telegraphed between them when they were together, edgy, exciting…and threatening.

She might be inexperienced, but with a mother like theirs, Temper knew where that sort of tension led. And she wanted none of it.

“Very well, I grant you that there are some upstanding gentlemen in England, and some of them actually find the happy unions they deserve. I…I just don’t think marriage is for me. “ Squeezing her sister’s hand, she crossed to the doorway. “Don’t forget to come say good-bye before you leave! Now, you’d better find where your maid has disappeared with the rest of your bonnets before Aunt Gussie arrives. You know she hates to be kept waiting.”

Pru gave her a troubled look, but to Temper’s relief, did not question her any further. She kept very few secrets from her sister, but this one she simply couldn’t share.

Tacitly accepting Temper’s change of subject, Pru said, “Of course I’ll bid everyone goodbye. And you’re correct, Aunt Gussie will be anxious to get started. She’s hoping to travel most of the way to Bath today, so we might arrive in good time tomorrow. Anyway, since you can’t be presented this year, what do you mean to do in London?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Temper replied, looking back at her from the doorway. “Maybe I’ll create some scandals of my own!”

About the Author

Award-winning historical romance author Julia Justiss has written more than thirty novels and novellas set in the English Regency and the American West.

A voracious reader who began jotting down plot ideas for Nancy Drew novels in her third grade spiral, Julia has published poetry and worked as a business journalist.

She and her husband live in East Texas, where she continues to craft the stories she loves. Check her website for details about her books, chat with her on social media, and follow her on Bookbub and Amazon to receive notices about her latest releases. For special subscriber giveaways, discounted books, character sketches and more, sign up for her newsletter at:

www.juliajustiss.com

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Deception and family honor

By Guest author

On March 27, 2019

In Teatime Tattler

Welcome to this special lecture presentation of The Teatime Tattler. I am your host and moderator, Samuel Clemens. In our continuing effort to bring you information about the people involved in The Stelton Legacy, we’ve been able to pull off a real coup. Family honor is at stake.

Tonight we meet Lady Darla Maxwell, a young woman for whom her father Graeme Maxwell and close friend, Lord Ewan MacDougall sought a suitable husband. Lady Darla has a … magical background which, as a young woman would, she sought to deny. I hope we can find out more about how her magic influenced the outcome of her story.

Lord Wesley Reynolds, the son of the well-known silk merchant William Reynolds has a most interesting background that I hope he’ll elaborate on today. It’s what made him the man trusted by the King of England as well as the Guardians of Scotland.

One moment, please. I’m getting instructions from our stage manager. (leans over the stage). Ladies and gentlemen. Our stage manager has just informed me our guests have arrived at the studio.

Ah. The lights have dimmed. A hush has come over the theatre. I can see into the wings. Yes. The door has opened. The anticipation in the room is palpable. Wait. I see them. They’re walking toward us. They have a stately and commanding appearance, and they’re holding hands. It is very tender and touching.

(Clemens rises from his chair as his guests’ approach.)

Clemens: Lord Wesley, Lady Darla. It’s good to meet you.

(Chairs scrape the floor, feet shuffle as everyone takes their seats.)

Clemens: Lady Darla please sit here next to Lord Wesley.

(Darla and Wesley hold hands. Wesley eases back in his chair and crosses his legs in a relaxed position.)

Clemens: Thank you for granting us an interview. Everyone here at Inside Scoop is excited you’re with us.

Lord Wesley: Lady Darla and I are happy to be with you today.

Justin: Our time is short so unless you have any questions I’d like to get right to the questions.

Wesley: I have no questions at the moment. Please begin.

Clemens:: (Papers rustle as Clemens gets settled.) Lord Wesley, you have a very interesting personal history with several twists and turns. Please explain how your background made you the man you are today.

Wesley: As a young man I followed in my father’s footsteps. He was both an excellent silk merchant and business man. He taught me the silk business from cultivating the silk worms, to making the final bolts of cloth, to selling and shipping the bolts. I learned by traveling with him and observing him at his work. He was a well-respected merchant and excellent negotiator. When he passed away, I was ready to take over although I will never be able to take his place.

(Darla squeezes Wesley’s hand, her face full of encouragement.)

Justin: I understand you sailed out of the Cinque Ports in southern Europe, in the service of the King of England. Some say you were a privateer.

(Wesley lets go of Darla’s hand and moves to the edge of his seat.)

Wesley: Why do you ask?

Darla: Wesley. (She touches her husband’s arm.)

Wesley: My Love, it still pains me to think of those days much less speak about them.

(Darla gives her husband an encouraging smile. Wesley turns back to Justin and lets out a slow breath.)

Wesley: I provided the king with the silks he wanted, as I did with many monarchs across Europe. Because of my connections I was a good sounding board for him. I had my own ships and one thing led to another. I had no love for the Spanish. They thought I was a charity, taking my goods without paying for them. So, I simply took from their ships to repay their debt. All in all, a good transaction.

Darla: When Wesley’s father took ill he went to help him.

Wesley: There were certain family incidents that happened. Over the years, my brother told me what happened and why. I believed Darla’s father and Lord Ewan, my father’s closest friends plotted against him and my family. I thought they ruined his business and took his property, circumstances that led to his death.

Justin: You said you thought they conspired against your father. I surmise you don’t believe that now. What made you believe it in the first place and why did you have a change of heart?

Wesley: Simply said, I put my trust in someone close and was deceived.

Clemens: Did this have anything to do with the pirate king, MacAlpin?

(Wesley chuckles.)

Wesley: I understand why you ask. The MacAlpin has the reputation of being a ruthless savage pirate. But, in all my dealings with him he proved to be fair and trustworthy. He was instrumental is seeing justice was served. It was difficult after years of believing something so strongly that it became your essence, to have the truth uncovered and recognize you’d been lied to for a very long time.

Justin: I’m sure it is. I understand Lady Darla was at your side.Darla: From the first moment we met on the docks by my father’s ship and I mistook him for Lord Ewan’s son-in-law, Magnus I was drawn to Wesley. I was relieved to learn he wasn’t Magnus. Very pleased indeed.

Wesley: Darla’s father, Lord Graeme Maxwell–

Clemens: The renowned gem and jewelry merchant?

(Darla beamed with pride.)

Wesley: Yes. Maxwell and Lord Ewan were nothing like I expected. After my father’s death I was told again of their thievery, had it stamped into my brain. I didn’t question it. You see, from an early age I was fostered to the Highland Maxwells. When I came back and worked with my father he had already moved the family from our home on Lord Ewan’s island, forced out I was told. I accepted it as truth and when my father died I vowed to take revenge for all the injustices Graeme Maxwell and Ewan MacDougall did to my father and family.

Darla: Wesley thought to use me as a pawn in his effort to hurt my father.

Wesley: (He turns to Darla) That wasn’t one of my shining moments. The more time we spent together and the more I got to know you, your father, and Lord Ewan, the more I knew I had it all wrong, but evil kept buzzing in my ear, pushing me to carry out the plans.

Darla: You found the truth. It’s all over now.

(Wesley holds Darla’s hand and looks into her eyes.)

Wesley: I’m a very lucky man.

(Clemens coughs to remind them they aren’t alone. They both turn toward Clemens.)

Clemens: Lady Darla, I understand you have unique insight—

Wesley: Come Darla. (Wesley gets to his feet.) It’s time to leave.

(Clemens, astonished by Lord Wesley’s action looks at Wesley. Darla remains calm and seated.)

Clemens: M’lord. I apologize if I have offended you or your lady.

Darla: No, Mr. Clemens. My husband is very protective. (Darla stands next to her husband.) I do have a unique ability. I have second sight. I see things before they happen. Some people—

Wesley: Unintelligent, witless ones–

Darla: Mr. Clemens gets your meaning. Some people believe it witchcraft. They say and do foolish things. It is why I kept to myself while growing up. Why I never allowed myself to become attached to a gentleman. How could I get someone I loved tangled in that rat’s nest. Some may see my gift as a blessing, but I assure you it is not. Imagine knowing something terrible is going to happen and you’re not able to influence it at all. I thought I would never marry. I was satisfied with being alone the rest of my life. I was wrong. I had no idea that I waited for the right person, my soul mate. I never saw that coming until I met Wesley. So much for my second sight. When I found him I knew I would never let him go. He is my love, my life.

(Wesley takes his wife in his arms. Clemens stands.)

Wesley: As you are mine. (He turns to Clemens.) Deception and family honor were at stake.

Darla: So was my heart.

Wesley: Do you have any other questions?

Clemens: No, Lord Wesley. Thank you both for speaking to us. (He turns to the audience.) Thank you for coming today. Lady Darla hasn’t told us much about her second sight, but I understand it is quite interesting. You can find out more about Lady Darla’s magic and Lord Wesley in The Pirate’s Jewel. Until next time.

The Pirate’s Jewel

Deception and family honor are at stake – so is her heart.

Wesley Reynolds will do anything to avenge his family’s banishment from Dundhragon Castle even throw in with the notorious pirate, MacAlpin. His plan, ruin Lord Ewan’s trading network. He has a more devious plan for his father’s ‘best friend,’ the man who abandoned them at the eleventh hour. He’ll ruin the man’s most precious jewel, his daughter Darla. Wesley’s so close to ruining the trade network and succeeding he can almost taste it, but revenge is not nearly as sweet as Darla’s kisses.

Darla Maxwell, beloved by her parents has no prospects of marriage. Her father and Lord Ewan search to find her the right husband. Darla’s special gifts are frightening to many. She has visions that often come true. The murky image of a man haunts her, she’s sure it’s Lord Ewan’s soon-to-be son-in-law, but the vision morphs when she meets Wesley. The meaning couldn’t be any clearer to her, her destiny lies with Wesley.

When revelations surface indicating Wesley has been deceived and his revenge misplaced. Will he find the truth of what really happened to his family in time to stop the pirates? Will Darla ever forgive him? Will he ever forgive himself?

Buy Link: Kindle Unlimited https://amzn.to/2Cyrbev

About the Author

Hi – I’m Ruth A. Casie and I write historical and contemporary romance. You might be wondering what I’m about. Sit back and let me tell you.

I’m happiest when I’m telling stories either chatting in a group or writing them down. I love to put my hero and heroine in tough situations and dare them to work it out—together, always together. They haven’t disappointed. Oh, they complain but in the end their love and relationships are stronger than ever.

Here are five things you probably don’t know about me.

1. I filled my passport up in one year.

2. I have three series. The Druid Knight stories are a historical time travel series. The Stelton Legacy is historical fantasy about the seven sons of a seventh son. Havenport Romances are stories set in a small coast Rhode Island town. I also write stories in the connected world the Pirates of Britannia.

3. I did a rap to “How Many Trucks Can a Tow Truck Tow If a Tow Truck Could Tow Trucks.”

4. When I cook I dance.

5. My Sudoku book is in the bathroom. I’m not saying anything else about that.

My stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Their stories will keep you turning the pages until the end. I hope my stories become your favorite adventures.

I’m a USA Today bestselling author.

My hobbies:

* counted cross stitch

* ballroom dancing – not just between the fridge and stove

* reading almost anything

* Sudoko – I’m still staying quiet about that

Social Media Links:

Website: https://ruthacasie.com/

Email: mailto:ruth@ruthacasie.com

Personal Blog: http://www.ruthacasie.blogspot.com

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RuthACasie

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/RuthACasie/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ruth-A.-Casie/e/B005V0YEVU/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-a-casie

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/ruth-seitelman/6/6b7/964

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

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie

YouTube: http://bit.ly/RuthACasieYouTube

Ruth’s Newsletter Signup: http://ruthacasie.com/contact.html#newsletter

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ruthacasie/

AllAuthor: http://ruthacasie.allauthor.com

Solicitor Stymied: Asks Help of Tattler Subcribers’

By Rue Allyn

On March 24, 2019

In Teatime Tattler

My Dear Mr. Clemens,

It has come to my attention that your readership extends to nearly all of London, from the most noble and high to those who must have your articles read to them. While I am certain this gratifies you greatly, I would never sink to the moral quagmire of writing to what is essentially a gossip rag, were I not in most desperate case.

For the past two years, I have searched diligently for the heirs to the estate of a very wealthy gentleman, a Mr. J. B., who has been my client, and whose estate I now represent. It is of the utmost urgency that anyone believing he or she might hold claim to the honorable J. B.’s estate come forward, via letter to me at your papers address, and therein present a means for contact, as well as such evidence of being a legitimate claimant as he or she may be able to provide.

The evidence so provided will be investigated, and upon satisfactory proof that the claim is valid, I will personally contact the potential heir or heiress with further instructions. I give one warning, that spurious claimants will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law on charges of fraud and conspiracy to commit fraud.

I thank you sir, for your willingness to assist me in this matter. Your discretion is most sincerely appreciated.

Sincerely,

Mr. T. C. Solicitor

NOTE TO OUR READERS: Obviously Mr. Solicitor is very concerned with discretion. While we cannot appreciate his opinion of our paper, it is his opinion, and his generous contribution compels us not only to publish his plea but to act (with the discretion he so values) in capacity of liaison. All replies to Mr. Solicitor received by this paper, will be forwarded to him directly and no information (not even initials) published without prior consent from those involved. The Teatime Tattler appreciates the support of all of its readers and thank you for your support.

A Widow at the Lighthouse!

By Guest author

On March 20, 2019

In Teatime Tattler

It has come to our attention here at the Teatime Tattler that in a certain town in Maine, there is a widow in charge of the lighthouse. Perhaps the population there is so sparse that they must press ladies into occupations better suited to gentlemen?

We have investigated this untoward circumstance thoroughly, to see if there is some suitable explanation. Perhaps she holds domestic sway while a son does the more — muscular, dare we say, — duties? While there is a son, he is to attend medical school, leaving the widow to attend the lighthouse, her home, and take care of the raising of two younger girls.

Those in town report the widow has taken the duties of lighthouse keeper upon herself. We can only imagine her grief at the loss of her husband has rendered her incapable of understanding her feminine limitations. Why, much mechanical work must be done to keep the lens in order. And much courage is needed to keep the light burning during stormsy weather. Reading the list of instructions for a lighthouse keeper, it becomes clear that only a man is up to the task.

You may suggest that we, who do not live in this town, have no business reporting on their lighthouse keeper. But you forget that the lighthouse is all that prevents ships from foundering in the dark, in the fog, and in stormy seas, where Mother Nature wreaks her bad temper on unlucky sailors. Do we want our sailors coming near a lighthouse where a widow is in charge? We think not.
It has been reported, but we can scarcely credit it ourselves, that the widow had attended the lighthouse well, in all her duties and the town wishes her to remain in place.
If so, we have a suggestion for them: please find that widow a husband, forthwith.

An excerpt…

The sight of her new home stole Betsy’s breath away. The lighthouse perched like an ancient warrior goddess atop the throne of rocks that acted as a bulwark against the relentless surf. The sound and scent and feel of the water permeated through everything, enfolding her in its powerful embrace. She breathed in, closed her eyes—then opened them and carefully picked her path up toward the entrance.

The front door was constructed of heavy, unpolished wood, as though it had been salvaged directly from the waves. Its austere beauty reminded her of the duke’s ancient manor home, stalwart and secure. The cracks and peels in the dirty white paint around the base of the massive structure became clear as she approached, but they only added to the picture of a home that would stand through a storm and show little damage for it.

She frowned slightly, looking around. Not that a woman’s hand wasn’t needed here, she was relieved to see. What scrubby grass had managed to pry its way through the stones was left untended. A child’s faded toy ball sat lonely in the center of the footpath, half-deflated. She would make her mark on her new home. Her husband would see that she was a worthwhile addition to his life.

Betsy paused. She gazed at the sun-bleached, wind-worn outer walls, at the two crumbling steps leading up to a bare stoop. The light above the doorway was clouded with grime. She glanced over her shoulder, but the driver was long gone. All she had left by way of companionship was the lighthouse and the sea. Where was her new family? Why had they not come outside to greet her yet.

She sighed, hoping that this lonely doorstep wasn’t the beginning of a huge mistake. Then she steeled herself once more, climbed the stairs, and knocked. It was cool in the shadow of the building; she felt a chill run through her. The crazy notion of running away, simply turning and bolting down the long ocean road, flashed through her mind—but right behind it was something Kate had said to her as they parted — the only impossibility is the possibility you fail to see.

The door began to open. In moments, it would be too late to flee.

Betsy squared her shoulders and plastered a smile on her face. Emile Laverdiere was a possibility she must see before she let fear chase her away.

A wraith of a man stood just inside the threshold, his pale eyes huge in the gaunt frame of his face. Betsy bit her tongue just in time to keep a gasp of surprise from escaping her lips. Though she had not chosen to follow the healer path her mother had taken, with her herbs and potions, she knew this man was gravely ill.

“Betsy Lawton?” he asked in a voice that matched the rest of him—thin, frail, reedy.

“Emile Laverdiere?” She looked into his eyes and saw that he had registered her dismay. No doubt he had been expecting it.

He smiled, and his cheekbones stood out like mountain ridges underneath his sunken eyes. There was humor there, despite the ravage of illness. “The one and only. We have been counting the minutes until your arrival. Though it may be impolite, we must ask what you think of your new home?”

Betsy somehow kept her smile in place as she took his offered hand and stepped into the lighthouse. Her soon-to-be-husband’s fingers were cold and bony against hers; she feared that if she squeezed at all, his hand would break. “You have a magnificent landscape at your command,” she answered honestly. He had said nothing of illness in his letters. Nor had those who had attested to his honest character and true desire to wed. Could it be recent? Or had she been duped?

His air of acute attention told her he waited for more. There was an air of patient acceptance in his waiting eyes, as if she could tell him the truth. That she did not want to wed a dying man. Did not know if she truly wanted to immure herself on an isolated jut of rock like Rapunzel in one of the duchess’s favorite fairytales.

But she had come all this way, she would not be her practical mother’s daughter to throw everything away without discovering all she could about this place. Her eyes roamed the interior of the lighthouse’s living space, and she found it plain but comfortable. The rounded room was cozy, softly lit, warmed by a small stone hearth. A spiral staircase formed its centerpiece, climbing up and up through the ceiling. Her eyes could not help following it upward into the unknown. She could hear a slight scraping sound, some rustling, a whispered exchange so low she could almost dismiss it as the sound of the wind.

She looked at her soon-to-be-husband. “What is up there?’ Her eyes swept back upward, toward the sound.

He seemed to approve of her question. “Take a look for yourself, if you like.” He gestured upward. “But forgive me for not accompanying you. I will only slow a young woman like you down. It takes me a while to climb up and down, thought I do it three times a day.”

Of course, Betsy thought. That was why he had not been down to greet her quickly. He had come from the top of the lighthouse. She felt a sympathetic ache in her own healthy joints at what he must endure to do his duty three times a day.

She looked upward, walked to the iron railing, and grasped the cold metal. She began to ascend. On the first landing, she paused at what sounded like sudden whispers, but she saw nothing, so she continued upward.

At the very top, she found her answer. The view that had seemed magnificent when she first arrived, had become almost godlike here, above the sea. She could see for miles. She could pick out the people in the village going about their business, but also the sea life in the ocean. Her breath caught. She leaned closer to look. A whale. She could see a whale in the distance, breaching repeatedly like a child at play.

She was careful not to touch any of the instruments that controlled the light. Emile would teach her to use them, she was certain. She had always been an apt pupil. Living in a duke’s household had exposed her to many lessons not always provided to a governess’s daughter. Living with the Fenster siblings had provided her with lessons that went beyond what was possible even in a duke’s household. She had seen one Fenster sister start a business making beautiful high fashion buttons with a cottager, another become an artist of repute, and one a card sharp that others admired. Kate, her best friend and youngest Fenster sister, had won prizes for the roses she created in her greenhouse.

The gleaming brass of the instruments called to her, but she did not touch, except for one, loving stroke. If she accepted the dying man downstairs as husband, this could be hers.

About the Book: The Lighthouse Keeper’s Bride

At long last, Book 8 in the Once Upon a Wedding series has arrived

Raised almost as a sister in a duke’s household, Betsy Lawton has let the duchess’ love of fairytale endings lead her to believe she has a chance at true love with a man far above her station.

Betsy Lawton, the governess’ daughter, dares to give her heart to an earl. When he crushes it under his heel to marry according to his family’s expectations, she turns her back on England and departs for America, where rank and station are no impediment to her dreams. Not that Betsy desires true love any longer. Instead she will be the mail order bride of a lighthouse keeper. It is the lighthouse she will love, she vows.

Matthew Thigpen, Earl of Battingston, had always regretted not fighting hard enough to marry the woman he loved, despite her lack of rank and family. But now he needs to find her. The woman he jilted is the only woman who will understand his predicament and keep his daughter safe.

Now a widow, Betsy must marry again to keep her job at her beloved lighthouse. Matthew offers her a devil’s bargain that will allow her to keep her job at the lighthouse she loves and keep his daughter safe as well. But is his bargain worth the lighthouse, if he breaks her heart all over again?

Find buy links here: https://kellymcclymerbooks.com/book/lighthouse-keepers-bride/

About the Author

Kelly McClymer fell in love with Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Snow White as a child. Her most prized possession is her copy of The Complete Tales of the Brothers Grimm. These are the stories which gripped our ancestors as they huddled around the fire at night, which taught countless children to persevere through hardship and succeed against the odds. Her favorite fairytale remains “The Six Swans” — where a young sister must not speak a word for six years in order to save her brothers from their stepmother’s evil spell.