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Christa Paige & Vivien Jackson: A Christmas Scheme

Cotillion Christmas Feasts

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2014 is the final year of Ellora’s Cave’s Cotillion Christmas anthologies. Enjoy these sweet Regency Christmas tales this year while you still can!

Message From Christa

The fun thing about co-writing is that you can come up with an idea, lob it through the ether at your writing partner and watch as she takes off with it. This is the case with the orangery in A Christmas Scheme. If I could show you my message feed with my lovely co-author, Vivien Jackson, it might make you wonder how we managed to craft an entire story with the crazy amount of idea lobbing going on. It was kind of like a fun snow ball fight. One of those ideas stuck. And, it was after we agreed on incorporating an orangery into the story that I had to actually figure out what it was beyond what I had read a long time ago in a Stephanie Laurens’ Bar Cynster novel.

There are a few interesting facts about orangeries that I found out in my research. They started in the 1600’s but became popular throughout Britain and France during the 17thcentury. Originally, they were buildings made from rudimentary supports like wooden beams and heated stoves but by the height of their incorporation in the English manor, they became architectural masterpieces with heating vents and glass-paned windows. Some famous orangeries are still around today like at Versailles in France and Kew House in England.

One of the benefits of an orangery was that it continuously offered a plethora of fruits, especially those citrus fruits that would not normally grow in the frigid temperatures of an English winter. And, that fact worked nicely for our Christmas story. At first, the orangery only had one purpose in A Christmas Scheme: the oranges. However, as the story unfolded, it turned out that this orangery was used for far more than just growing trees through the winter cold.

Vivien incorporated the orangery in Doctor Avery’s medical practice. And, I went with that and added a use for his lovely bride, Caroline. As the story continued on, we found that the orangery became a bigger aspect throughout the plot. There is a pivotal scene between Kiran and Kate in the orangery. And, though it is snowing outside and Christmas is nigh, there is a warm fire burning within the orangery, keeping things summery and tepid. It is a place of escape, a place of solitude, a place of secrets.

And, a place to grow oranges.

I’m so glad that I lobbed that idea to Vivien and that she ran with it.

So, join Miss Kate Avery and Kiran in the orangery at White Withering. There might even be a few schemes in there, too.

About A Christmas Scheme

Sequel to A Christmas Caroline, but you don’t have to read the prequel first!

With her brother’s recent marriage to the daughter of an earl, Kate Avery is no longer needed to keep his house or look after their younger sister. She’s free. But for what? Secretly she wishes for purpose and adventure, but finding it seems unlikely. Then her brother arrives home from London just in time for Christmas…with an exotic and mysterious visitor.

A displaced Bengali lord, Kiran now serves the British Crown in a covert capacity. He’s been charged to deliver a secret message to the Earl of Withering at his country estate. He feels out of place in this very English home and is eager to leave until he meets Kate, who shares his desire for adventure.

Kate and Kiran must choose between the loyalties they have long held and the unexpected affection that blooms between them.

A Blush® Regency historical romance from Ellora’s Cave

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Excerpt

Copyright © CHRISTA PAIGE & VIVIEN JACKSON, 2014

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

22 December 1809, Shropshire

Kate Avery crested a high point on the lane at White Withering, the grand country estate belonging to her brother’s new father-in-law, and turned in a slow circle to observe the white-cloaked park and grounds. Drat winter. Drat the country. Drat Christmas. If there was an exact opposite of joy, she was feeling it today.

A Christmas Scheme_HiRes copyA crusty scab of snow lingered from this morning, and if the leaden clouds were any indication, more bad weather was soon to come. It never snowed so unseasonably early in London. The hem of her sturdy woolen pelisse was soaked and her head felt blown up tighter than a hot-air balloon. Hydrocephalus, her brother Samuel would worry, and give her a tincture and put her to bed. Sometimes it was a burden having a physician for a brother, especially one who was so fond of her.

Thank heaven he was away in town and wasn’t expected home for another two days. He had promised Lady Caroline he would return home for the whole of Christmastide. This season was special for them; last year during the holiday had seen them wed.

For Kate, her brother’s professional obligations in town presented her with something of a reprieve. By the time he returned, her nose ought to be quite sorted. And she would have her sister Virginia in hand.

Probably.

For the last several months, since they’d moved to the country with Samuel and his Lady Caroline, nine-year-old Virginia had been playing truant of her studies. Ladies do not learn mathematics, the child would say. Ladies learn forte-piano. And Kate would hide her handed-down cyphering tables and bite her tongue. Adjusting from making do in their modest house on Dean Street, appropriate for a young physician and his family, to the opulence of Lady Caroline’s world had been difficult for Kate. Not so for her sister, apparently. Virginia had taken to grandness like the Queen to tea. Worse, the Earl of Withering, Lady Caroline’s curmudgeon of a father, encouraged such behavior.

Virginia always had been special, the youngest of the Avery siblings, an unexpected baby, the one Papa called a bonus. Kate had promised her dying mother that she would care for her wee sister, and by God she planned to do just that. Only…what if she had indeed been teaching Virginia the absolute wrong things all these years? After all, Kate herself had no formal instruction and no notion really what ladies ought to know. What if the earl and Lady Caroline had the right of it, and Virginia required more ladylike accomplishments, not Latin verbs?

Kate swiped the handkerchief once more over her face, then tucked it in her pocket, turning her head toward a copse nearby, a barrier between the lane and the formal gardens. On the thin winter wind she thought she caught voices coming from that direction, one tinny and childish. She squinted past the lace of bare branches. It took her not five moments to locate the wispish figure of her sister, flitting amongst the trees, bundled up like an overstuffed doll and singing some melody at the top of her voice. Kate gathered breath to call after the child.

But in the next instant she swallowed her shout. Choked on it. Following a short distance behind the child was Miss Blackthorne, Virginia’s new governess. New as of last week. Kate dropped her hand.

Lady Caroline had hired this governess, and her references were impeccable. She even taught deportment and watercolor. They had been in the orangery this morning, coddling saplings, and in the music room in the afternoon, chiming scales. And now here they were, the child and her teacher, heedless of the cold or gathering twilight, moving apace, and casually. Virginia’s voice came clear again, and Kate realized she was singing a song…in French.

Her sister was speaking French . Was skipping through the country woods of White Withering, in the company of her hired servant, confidently intoning—with some occasional comment on the pronunciation from Miss Blackthorne—the sounds Kate had only ever dared to read and never to speak.

“Oh, Mama,” Kate murmured, “I would you could see this.” Truth was, Virginia was growing into a fine young lady. And quite, quite without her sister’s help. The governess and her charge passed the slight hill Kate stood upon, bound for the house, without a pause in their song or a glance to the side.

A sneeze bristled the inside of Kate’s nose, but she swallowed savagely and the urge went away.

Blinking the odd brightness of the snow-clad twilight from her eyes, she began back the way she had come. Back toward the great looming house and her unnervingly aristocratic, if generous, sister-in-law and…what else? How would she now fill this evening, or tomorrow?

Virginia might be learning how a lady ought to occupy her time, but Kate flailed. Lady Caroline spent whole days in letter writing, riding her horse, visiting around the neighborhood, and tending her hothouse flowers. Did she expect Kate to amuse herself in similar pursuits? The thought was soul-blanching. Kate was more used to sorting household accounts, reading bits of broadsides her brother picked up at the coffee shops, and making certain Virginia adhered to a schedule and lessons. If those were no longer appropriate tasks for her, she needed…something. Adventure. Excitement. A place in the world. A purpose.

She stifled a sneeze against her sleeve.

She had heretofore found that purpose in helping others—quizzing her brother in his studies before he went off to school, helping her mother when Virginia was born, and then taking over care of the child after Mama succumbed. If Kate was not required to supervise Virginia now, what else was she good for?

A sound swept over the park. Such noise, which layered every moment in London, was alien out here in the country, unusual enough that she turned toward it.

The carriage was not beyond the park, as she had supposed. It turned onto the lane even as she watched, flashing the crest of the Earl of Withering. It lumbered a bit, the coachman taking his horses gingerly over fresh ice, but clearly it was coming here to White Withering. Her brother had returned early from London!

Eager to hurry back to the house before Samuel arrived, Kate picked up the hem of her pelisse and started down the hill, but a movement in the carriage arrested her momentarily. A shape leaned out the narrow window. A head. Even from this distance she could discern that it was dark. Unusually so and quite exotic. He looked straight at her.

Goodness. Of a certainty not her brother.

Kate’s breath caught up with the prickle in her throat, and for a heartbeat she could not breathe. She paused, strangling the mass of wool in her fist.

Who was this stranger? And why had Samuel brought him to White Withering, just in time for Christmas and with no warning whatsoever? Even were this guest quite common to look at—and Lord help her, he was not—the Earl of Withering, master still of this estate, would very well want to know about him.

Kate decided to bypass the imposing stone portico and divided stairs at the front and enter the house via the garden instead. She needed to locate the earl before meeting Sam and his guest on the steps.

As purposes went, relaying information to the earl was a simple one, but at least she had a reason to go back into that house.

SusanaSays3Susana Says

An engaging tale of two lovers finding unexpected love and purpose in life at Christmastide: 4/5 stars

Exciting things always seem to happen at Christmas at the White Withering estate. Last year, when Lady Caroline decided to make her father’s last Christmas a memorable one, she found her match. And this year, the earl is still around, and an unusual guest turns up to make her sister-in-law Kate Avery’s Christmas a special one.

A native of India and clearly a foreigner, Kiran’s ethnicity adds to his charm as he wins over the Kate and her family. His life has come to a crossroads and he feels alone and uncertain about his future. He sees that Kate, whose role in life has been usurped by Lady Caroline in the past year, is likewise feeling at loose ends, and ideas begin to form in his mind…

Add to that an insightful old earl, an impish little sister, and an unexpected episode in an orangery and you have a lovely tale of two lovers finding each other through the magic power of Christmas.

About the Authors

Vivien Jackson • Christa Paige

On our own, we write paranormal and sci-fi and fantasy and hot cops. Together, it’s all about the cravats and Hessians. Polished, of course.

Other Stories in the Cotillion Christmas Feasts Series

Christmas Fete by Barbara Miller

The Size of the Scandal by Jillian Chantal

Her Very Major Christmas by Saralee Etter

A Christmas Scheme by Christa Paige and Vivien Jackson

It’s Never Enough by Cynthia Moore

Cornelia Amiri: Moon Goddess Wife

Cornelia Amiri’s new release Moon Goddess Wife is about the Welsh goddess Rhiannon, the horse and moon goddess. It’s a fantasy, a mystery, and a romance.

Moon Goddess Wife is my version of the story of Rhiannon and Pwyll taken from the first branch of the Mabinogi, the ancient Welsh book of myths and legends. Rhiannon is a moon goddess but she’s also the ancient Welsh horse goddess. The story of Rhiannon and Pwyll can be categorized so many ways: a fantasy, a historical, a mystery, a myth and legend tale, but first and foremost it’s a romance. When a tale like this is told from generation to generation in front of tribal peat fires than later past on the same way by the fireside of castle hearths and once it is finally written down is read and reread from one generation to the next — all I can say is it’s a damn good story.  I’m honored to bring it to modern romance readers because it’s the story of a love that endures all.

About Moon Goddess Wife

From Welsh mythology springs the tale of Rhiannon and Pwyll. Chief Pwyll’s life is changed forever the day Goddess Rhiannon rides pass him on her magic horse. Forbidden romance smolders between the goddess and the chieftain. With the use of an enchanted bag, Rhiannon breaks free of an unwanted betrothal. Happily, she weds Pwyll, but a harrowing mystery tears them apart. Will Pwyll’s suspicion and duty as chieftain prevail or will love win out?

Excerpt

amoongoddess6 copyMoonlight slit through gaps in the leafy tree tops above Pwyll, the gold-torqued chief of the Demetaes, who sat in his saddle on this Samhain night. The eve of the new year, the day when the veil between worlds was at its weakest, was upon them. He scanned the wild woods for spirits wandering the earth, seeking loved ones or live bodies to inhabit. He, like the rest of his tribe, had protected himself from wayward phantoms by covering his face with ash, so they’d think he was a spirit and leave him alone.

Pwyll noticed he’d wandered onto an ancient grass-covered burial mound, a portal to the otherworld. As he grabbed his horse’s reins to gallop off the tor and safely join his spearmen below, a sudden gust of wind swirled around him. It tousled his thick, dark brown hair, spiked with lime wash, which highlighted some of the strands to a golden shade. He drew his plaid cloak tighter to his broad chest. Out of the darkness, a white light shone like a full moon gliding across the forest, toward him.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he stared at it. It drew closer and he saw it was a white horse whose mane glistened like spun silver. Wayward strands fluttered above its fathomless, almond-shaped eyes in its long, slender face. Its sleek, powerful legs moved at a slow but steady canter. The lady riding the steed captured his gaze. The golden cloak she wore and her long, cascading hair fluttered in the night sky like wings in flight. Pwyll’s mouth went dry and his jaw dropped. His heart raced. With his first glance at the woman he felt like he‘d fallen into a dream he couldn’t awake from. The dream was of her and only her.

“My woman,” he said under his breath.

As her lush lips parted, a sound like a chirping lark, her laughter, danced through the air and sang in his veins. His mind fell empty of all but an intense, urgent longing for this beauty. She rode off before Pwyll could leap onto her horse behind her and take her into his arms. Though Pwyll was a gold-torqued chief, she didn’t bless him with a smile, nor spare him a glance.

Pwyll sat there, gazing at her back as she rode away. He realized his spearmen had joined him and were yelling.

Cyngen slapped him on the back. “My chief, can you hear me?” The tall, muscular champion’s eyes gleaned with battle fury as if ready to fight, though no enemy was there. “Did she curse you with deafness?”

Arthfael, the oldest spearman, crowded in to show his concern. “Did she enchant you?”

Pwyll pushed them away as he would a zealous dog licking his face. “Did you see her?”

“It’s not like you to disobey any rule much less one as important as not standing on the tor on Samhain.” Cyngen flung his arms out and shook them. “I fear that woman may be a goddess.”

“Yes, the most beautiful goddess in the world,” Pwyll rasped.

Arthfael grabbed Pwyll’s horse and walked him down from the tor. “Come, lest she returns to carry you to the otherworld.”

About the Author

authorCornelia Amiri, who also writes under the name of Maeve Alpin, is the author of 22 Celtic and Steampunk romance books. She lives in Houston Texas as does her son and granddaughter and her cat, Severus. Severus is a writer’s cat, he loves books. He likes to knock them off the bookshelf, sit on them, and sniff the open pages. He also uses the computer, he sits on it, lays on top of it, and walks across the key board almost constantly.

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Saralee Etter: Her Very Major Christmas

 Cotillion Christmas Feasts

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2014 is the final year of Ellora’s Cave’s Cotillion Christmas anthologies. Enjoy these sweet Regency Christmas tales this year while you still can!

Message From Saralee

Thanks, Susana, for inviting me to talk to your readers about my Christmas story, Her Very Major Christmas.

I love food – what can I say? I was the kind of kid who really loved reading cookbooks, imagining the glorious smells of cinnamon and citrus, and looking at photographs of perfectly prepared dishes. Canning vegetables and making marmalade is a fun challenge that always leaves me with a sense of accomplishment. Baking cakes and making marvelous stews is one of my favorite ways to show love.

So you can imagine how excited I was when I found out that this year’s Cotillion Christmas theme was the traditional holiday feast during the English Regency! Old cookbooks offer us a fascinating glimpse into the foods of the past, and I couldn’t wait to explore the dishes that might have appeared on a nobleman’s dining table in 1815.

Of course, since making delicious food is important to me, my heroine had to enjoy cooking too. Even though an upper-class lady wouldn’t be expected to slave in the kitchen, she certainly might be interested in making certain special food items like jellies, candies, and other preparations including home remedies. Back in an era when medicines, lotions, and other concoctions had to be made by hand, the lady of the house might well have learned how.

As it happens, Rosalind Joslin’s remedies help to heal the wounds suffered by her cousin-by-marriage, Major Harry Joslin. He’s a gruff and somewhat imposing veteran of Waterloo who finds her gentle, practical nature a soothing balm to his spirit.

About Her Very Major Christmas

HVMC copyWidowed Rosalind Joslin is an extra female in her in-laws’ household. Longing to prove she still has value, she uses her skills to make remedies and medicinal preparations for the poor. She misses the warmth and sun of India where she was raised but looks forward to her first real English Christmas with holly and the traditional feast.

Major Harry Joslin never expected his cousin’s death to thrust him into the unwanted role of nobleman. Still recovering from the emotional and physical injuries inflicted at Waterloo, he’s not ready for the demands of a new position and his family’s pressure for him to marry a debutante. His cousin’s widow is just another complication.

But it’s the season of miracles and two wounded hearts may find love blooming in the depths of a snowy Christmas day.

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Excerpt

It was a devilish way to be welcomed into the family.

The dark-haired woman had crept into the library, taken one look at him then screamed and fainted dead away. He’d lunged toward her, hoping to catch her before she crumpled to the floor. He didn’t quite reach her in time.

Women had screamed at the sight of his scarred face before but usually not until they’d gotten a better look at him. Guiltily aware that her unconscious condition was his fault, he gathered her up into his arms, meaning to place her on the sofa at the far end of the room. If he moved fast enough he could put her down before his marked visage caused her to faint again. She was a soft, sturdy little thing with a pale face and dark hair that spilled over his arm.

He only had time to carry her halfway to the sofa before he heard a furious pounding of feet on the floorboards outside the library. The door to the library burst open. Through the door came an elderly lady, followed by an old man with a pair of dueling pistols, one in each hand.

“Unhand that female! Get back, you fiend!” the old man shouted, waving the pistols.

Burdened by the woman in his arms, the major froze as one of the weapons dipped dangerously in his direction.

The gun went off with a roar.

A pistol ball whistled past his head and lodged in the wall near the window. The lady shrieked.

The old man looked astonished, turning the pistol around so he could squint down the smoking barrel. “By Jove, I didn’t even touch the blasted trigger.”

SusanaSays3Susana Says

…delightful tale of unexpected love at Christmas: 4/5 stars

After being widowed and orphaned and finally taken in by her late husband’s crotchety old grandfather, Rosalind finds her purpose in life by studying herbs and treating the aches and pains of the neighborhood.

Major Harry Joslin never expected to inherit his grandfather’s baronetcy, but the unexpected deaths of his cousin and uncle make him the last male heir. Still recovering from his experiences at Waterloo, Harry just wants to live a normal life, and his cousin’s pretty widow seems like the perfect lady to share it with.

But the powers that be seem to have other plans. Little do they know that Major Harry is no man’s—or woman’s, for that matter—fool.

Her Very Major Christmas is a well-written, sweet Christmas love story about two wounded souls who find love and hope in each other. The characters are well-drawn; the inclusion of the Spanish servant is a special surprise.

If you like short, sweet Christmas reads, this one will not fail to please.

About the Author

saralee-2-webfileSaralee loves to read, and always knew that writing was the only career for her. Next to reading stories, what could be better than thinking up stories all day long? But instead of writing the stories that were teeming in her head, she wrote other things: Newspaper articles, public relations releases, legal briefs.

Now she’s turned to writing fiction full-time. Her traditional Regency romance, A Limited Engagement, is available from the Cotillion line of stories, as is her 2013 Christmas Cotillion novella, Lydia’s Christmas Charade.

She is a long-time member of the Central Ohio Fiction Writers and the Romance Writers of America.

Other Stories in the Cotillion Christmas Feasts Series

Christmas Fete by Barbara Miller

The Size of the Scandal by Jillian Chantal

Her Very Major Christmas by Saralee Etter

A Christmas Scheme by Christa Paige and Vivien Jackson

It’s Never Enough by Cynthia Moore

Heather Hiestand: Christmas Delights

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Heather will be awarding a $25 AMAZON or BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About Christmas Delights

The sweetest gift is the hardest to unwrap. . .

Lady Victoria Allen-Hill never dreamed she’d be a widow at twenty-one–let alone a virgin. Her father insists that she attend a matchmaking house party in the snow-covered seaside town of Pevensey in hopes she’ll find a suitable husband. But for Victoria, it’s an opportunity to indulge in a passionate affair—and the handsome inventor she meets at the Christmas Eve masquerade ball may be just the man for the job. . .

Lewis Noble is the cousin of London’s famed Redcake sisters, so it almost stands to reason that he’s just as irresistible as one of their sugar-iced pastries. Lewis catches the eye of every woman at the party–but Victoria is the only one who catches his. He won’t be tied down in her father’s business, but watching other men court her amid a flurry of engagements ignites a jealousy he’s never felt before. A dose of honesty may be just the thing to mend their broken hearts–for many holidays to come. . .

“Before I realized it, the unusually strong and well-developed characters of The Kidnapped Bride had sneaked up on me and captured my full attention. This is one of the best shorter books I have ever read.”

Delle Jacobs, author of Lady Wicked

“A delightful, sexy glimpse into Victorian life and loving with two wonderfully non-traditional lovers.

Jessa Slade, author of Dark Prince’s Desire and His Wicked Smile

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Excerpt

“Why would you want to dine with him?” Lewis growled. “He’s a known rake, on the prowl for a rich heiress.”

Cover_The Kidnapped Bride copy“I am a rich heiress,” Victoria said softly.

“I thought you were interested in me. Was that all a mistake?” His expression stayed closed, remote.

“Will you be dreaming of some other woman when I’m in your bed?” Her retort shocked her. She was acting like a jealous lover, not a flirt.

He stared at her for a long moment. “If I allow a woman into my bed, she is going to be the only thing I think about. The only thought I will have will be her pleasure; my only concern will be her satisfaction.”

She felt her intimate flesh contract in a hard burst of pleasurable shock. “Are you ready to allow it, sir?”

“Are you?” His gaze narrowed. “You seem to be having second thoughts.”

“I never have second thoughts at midnight. Only at other times of the day,” she said lightly, wishing she could run her hands over his elaborate jacket and feel the outline of the hard muscles underneath.

“Then we will make an assignation for some midnight,” he said.

About the Author

Heather Hiestand photo copyHeather Hiestand was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period, and she continues to return, fascinated by the rapid changes of the nineteenth century. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she has achieved best-seller status at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.

For more information, visit Heather’s website. Heather loves to hear from readers! Her email is heather@heatherhiestand.com.

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Valerie Bowman: The Accidental Countess

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Valerie will be awarding a print copy of The Accidental Countess and fun swag (US ONLY), or a digital copy of the book (INTERNATIONAL) to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter during the tour. Click here for the Rafflecopter. Click the banner above to follow the tour and increase your chances of winning.

About The Accidental Countess

CAN A SCANDALOUS CHARADE

For seven long years, Lady Cassandra Monroe has waited for the man of her dreams to return from the war. Unfortunately, he happens to be engaged to her flighty cousin. What Cass wouldn’t give to take her cousin’s place! When he mistakes Cass for Patience Bunbury, a fictitious friend her cousin has invented to escape social obligations…even with her future husband, Cass thinks this is her chance.

LEAD TO TRUE AND LASTING LOVE?

After defeating Napoleon at Waterloo, Captain Julian Swift is not quite ready to settle down and enter into his unwanted arranged marriage—especially when the real object of his affection turns out to be a beguiling beauty he meets at a party. Patience Bunbury is witty, independent, passionate…and, unbeknownst to him, the cousin of his current fiancée. When the truth about Cass comes out—and Julian discovers that their courtship is anything but accidental—will he surrender his heart to a woman who really is too good to be true?

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Excerpt

Julian pulled on his gloves. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why did Mother give you five pounds?”

“Because I won the bet, silly,” his sister, Daphne, said.

Cover_AccidentalCountess copyHe arched a brow. “Bet?”

“I bet Mama that when you came home you would end things with Penelope immediately. Mama said you’d be planning a spring wedding.”

His brow remained arched. “Mother had that much faith in me, did she?”

“It’s not that she wanted you to marry Penelope. I don’t think she did, really. Though she hasn’t said. It’s just that she was convinced you would do it.”

“I see. And you didn’t believe I’d remain so steadfast?”

Daphne shook her head. Her blond curls bobbed against her cheeks. “Absolutely not.”

“What made you so certain?”

“Because I’ve been around to see her cousin Cassandra grow up, dear brother.” She gave him a sidewise catlike smile. “You’ve seen Cassandra since you’ve been back, have you not?”

“Yes. I’ve seen her,” he growled.

“Perhaps at the house party?”

Julian’s gaze snapped to his sister’s face. “How did you—?”

“You mentioned Lady Worthing’s eyes, which led me to believe that Lady Worthing is in fact the Duchess of Claringdon, which then led me to believe that Miss Bunbury might well have been Lady Cassandra. Am I right?”

Julian clenched his jaw. “It seems the entire house party was an elaborate ruse to fool me.”

“I knew it! I begged Penelope to take me with her when she stopped by to visit before she left for Surrey.”

“You knew about this mad ploy and you didn’t think it absurd?”

“Oh, it’s absurd to be sure. Though I think you’d have to know the Duchess of Claringdon to truly understand. She’s a bit . . . unpredictable.”

“And you didn’t see fit to mention to Penelope that her cousin and friend were playacting in the country?”

Daphne plunked her hands on her hips. “And spoil the fun? I wouldn’t think of it.”

“You’re mad, too,” Julian declared, shaking his head.

“My point is that you have, in fact, seen Lady Cassandra.”

“Yes.”

“So I needn’t explain my reasoning for why I bet Mother that you’d break things off with Penelope.” Daphne smiled at him sweetly. “And I thank Lady Cassandra kindly for my five pounds.”

Julian shook his head. Yes, Daphne was no longer a cute little girl with a penchant for asking too many questions. She’d grown up to be an astute young woman who was much more thoughtful than she first appeared. Thankfully, Julian was spared more inquiry from his talkative sister when their coach pulled to a stop in front of the Hillboroughs’ town house. Julian alighted first and then turned to help Daphne from the coach.

As soon as Daphne’s slippered feet touched the ground, the siblings turned toward the front door.

Directly into the path of . . . Lady Moreland, Garrett Upton, and Cassandra Monroe.

Julian gritted his teeth. He glanced away but not before he caught a glimpse of her. Cassandra looked like a dream in a violet-colored gown, diamonds sparkling at her throat.

“Now this is going to be an interesting evening,” Daphne said, with a wide grin on her impish little face. “An interesting evening, indeed.”

About the Author

VALERIE BOWMAN is an award-winning author who writes Regency-set historical romance novels (a.k.a. Racy Regency Romps) with a focus on sharp dialogue, engaging story lines, and heroines who take matters into their own hands!

Valerie’s first Regency series from St. Martin’s Press has garnered acclaim including a nomination for Best First Historical from RT Book Reviews, a BookList starred review, and a Publishers Weekly starred review. She is also a 2014 Kirkus Prize nominee for fiction. Her work has been called “Too delightful to miss” by New York Times bestselling author Lisa Kleypas and “Everything a romance should be” by New York Times bestselling author Sarah MacLean.

Valerie grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got. Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her family including her rascally rescue dog, Roo. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS.

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Elizabeth Hoyt: Darling Beast (Maiden Lane #7)

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About Darling Beast

A MAN CONDEMNED . . .

Falsely accused of murder and mute from a near-fatal beating, Apollo Greaves, Viscount Kilbourne has escaped from Bedlam. With the Crown’s soldiers at his heels, he finds refuge in the ruins of a pleasure garden, toiling as a simple gardener. But when a vivacious young woman moves in, he’s quickly driven to distraction . . .

A DESPERATE WOMAN . . .

London’s premier actress, Lily Stump, is down on her luck when she’s forced to move into a scorched theater with her maid and small son. But she and her tiny family aren’t the only inhabitants—a silent, hulking beast of a man also calls the charred ruins home. Yet when she catches him reading her plays, Lily realizes there’s more to this man than meets the eye.

OUT OF ASHES, DESIRE FLARES

Though a scorching passion draws them together, Apollo knows that Lily is keeping secrets. When his past catches up with him, he’s forced to make a choice: his love for Lily…or the explosive truth that will set him free.

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Excerpts: Maiden Lane Series

http://www.elizabethhoyt.com/maidenlane/books/index.php

About the Author

Elizabeth Hoyt is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publishers Weekly bestselling author of historical romance, including reader favorite, The Raven Prince.

40729Elizabeth was born in New Orleans but grew up in St. Paul, Minnesota. She was fortunate to be able to travel extensively as a child, visiting St. Andrews, Scotland; Germany; France; and Belgium. She spent a year in Oxford, England and was a summer exchange student to Kawasaki, Japan.

Elizabeth has a BA in anthropology from the University of Wisconsin at Madison and, as a result of having no clue what to do with her life thereafter, a career history as a barista, a (terrible) sales clerk, a Wisconsin Revenue Service data entry slave, and an archeological field work grunt. Fortunately, Elizabeth married relatively young and produced two children who kept her busy until her mid-thirties. At about this time, when her youngest was entering Kindergarten, Elizabeth’s mother hinted that perhaps Elizabeth should get a Real Job.

Sadly, Elizabeth was so delusional she thought writing a romance novel might qualify as a Real Job.

But! Five years later, to everyone’s surprise, she actually sold that romance novel (The Raven Prince) and began a rather successful career as a Romance Novelist. This was most fortunate since Elizabeth is singularly unqualified to do anything else but Make Up Stories.

Since then Elizabeth has written thirteen books to critical acclaim: The Prince Trilogy (The Raven Prince, The Leopard Prince, and The Serpent Prince); the Legend of the Four Soldiers series (To Taste Temptation, To Seduce a Sinner, To Beguile a Beast, and To Desire a Devil); and the Maiden Lane series (Wicked Intentions, Notorious Pleasures, Scandalous Desires, Thief of Shadows, Lord of Darkness, and the upcoming Duke of Midnight .) All of Elizabeth’s books are set in eighteenth century England and all feature a fairy tale story that serves as a foil to the main story.

Elizabeth lives in central Illinois with a pack of untrained canines and a garden in constant need of weeding.

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Barbara Miller: Christmas Fete

Cotillion Christmas Feasts

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2014 is the final year of Ellora’s Cave’s Cotillion Christmas anthologies. Enjoy these sweet Regency Christmas tales this year while you still can!

Message From Barbara

Barb July 08When the theme of a holiday feast was presented for the 2014 Christmas novella challenge I wanted something different, so I pulled out a Regency cookbook by Verity Isitt called Take a Buttock of Beef. You could say I made up the menu for the novella before I made up the characters. Of course I just mention the dishes without giving the recipes but most are straightforward.

I had experienced only a dessert fete, but decided to make the background for the story an all day fete at a country house, almost like a winter country fair. Who would put on such an event? Only someone who is passionate about Christmas. My heroine Dinah Claypool has never had a truly perfect Christmas but keeps trying. When she meets Richard Chandler she finally finds someone who cares about all the things she does. But he has a secret that could ruin Christmas for Dinah forever.

I started writing Christmas Fete during Christmas week 2013 to keep myself in the spirit. I thought back to what Christmas used to mean to me and it was always about making other people happy. The anticipation of them opening their surprises far outweighed any joy I got out of my presents. What was true for my parents and siblings is still true today for friends and relatives. I spend all year thinking about the perfect gift for them and the items just leap out at me. Frequently they are books, sometimes even the very novella I’m working on.

About Christmas Fete

511yitb0k3L._AA160_When Dinah’s father inherits an estate, he decides she and her brother must go settle the matter. They arrive to find the place in need of much repair—and holiday spirit. As Dinah plans a cheerful fete for Christmas in hope of winning over the locals, she finds herself winning over someone else as well—Richard, the handsome man who lives next door.

Richard never expected to meet someone like Dinah—a woman who is headstrong and decisive. A woman he could spend his life with. Unfortunately, Richard needs a Christmas miracle to extricate himself from a tricky obligation.

If it’s a miracle he needs to be free, Dinah is determined he’ll get it—that way they can spend their Christmas fete together and everyone can enjoy their happily ever afters.

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Excerpt

Richard wet his lips, which had gone numb. “I’m not sure how it happened.”

“You were compelled to offer for her,” Dinah whispered.

“Somewhat reluctantly. Later I suspected she manipulated me into it, but that does her an injustice. I did offer.” He saw tears sparkling on Dinah’s lashes and raised a finger to brush them away but she ducked her head.

“Should we announce your engagement during the festivities? People will hear of it soon enough.”

“Please don’t. I keep hoping something will happen to prevent it, the earth crack or a violent storm that will blow the two of us away from here, never to return. I want to be with you, only you, always. Life with Ophelia will be living a lie.”

She smiled at his fantasy. “And yet you are bound to honor your generous impulse.”

“I don’t want to. I only offered because I had never met anyone like you before, never met you, who seem to be the only like-minded soul I have ever found on this earth. You understand me.”

“I am in the same case. I never thought about marriage until I met you, someone who actually cares, who takes me seriously.”

He took her in his arms and kissed her, the heavy coat falling to the floor. If only this moment could go on forever. He could imagine their future life, lose himself in it, but then she dipped her head with a sigh.

“I am so glad we did that at least once,” she said.

SusanaSays3Susana Says

…heartwarming & sweet Regency Christmas tale: 4/5 stars

At a time when marriage is considered the ultimate destiny of all young women, Dinah Claypool is remarkably content with her role as the sensible one of the family, her father being rather unworldly and eccentric and her older brother, a good-natured rakehell. It isn’t until her father sends her to Hammersmith Hall, the estate he has just inherited, that she meets Richard Chandler and begins to think seriously about the wedded state.

What she doesn’t know is that just prior to her arrival, Richard rather half-heartedly offered to marry Ophelia, the daughter of the previous earl, when she wailed to him about having nowhere to go. No matter that he regrets it almost immediately, particularly after meeting Dinah; he can’t jilt Ophelia without causing a scandal.

And speaking of scandal, Dinah discovers to her surprise that her father has been reviled in the area for twenty-five years for jilting Ophelia’s mother. Why has he never mentioned it before? Could that be the reason he sent her instead of coming himself? Could it be true that Ophelia’s mother was his one true love and not Dinah’s own mother, who died when she was small?

Christmas Fete is a delightful Midsummer Night’s Dream sort of story, where the Spirit of Christmas must work its magic to untangle one mismatched couple before true love can prevail.

About the Author

Barbara Miller teaches in the Writing Popular Fiction graduate program at Seton Hill University and is Reference Librarian at Mount Pleasant, PA Public Library. She has published historical and contemporary romances, mysteries, young adult books, a story book and a paranormal novel. Two of her plays have been performed at the Pittsburgh New Works Festival. You may email scribe@fallsbend.net or visit www.fallsbend.net.

Other Stories in the Cotillion Christmas Feasts Series

Christmas Fete by Barbara Miller

The Size of the Scandal by Jillian Chantal

Her Very Major Christmas by Saralee Etter

A Christmas Scheme by Christa Paige and Vivien Jackson

It’s Never Enough by Cynthia Moore

Katherine Grey: An Unexpected Gift

Interview With Katherine Grey

Susana: What inspired you to start writing?

Katherine: It wasn’t so much something that inspired me to start writing as a person. I have always had an active imagination and would make up stories. I would often share with friends some of the stories or talk about the characters that peopled those stories. After much encouragement from one of those friends, I decided to try to write a book. That first book took me 9 months to write and currently resides on a shelf in my closet. Like most first books, it’s no where near publishable but I learned a lot while writing it.

Susana: What author or authors have most influenced your writing?

Katherine: This is a hard question to answer. I would have to say Johanna Lindsey, Suzanne Enoch, and Lisa Kleypas. Johanna Lindsey was one of the first historical writers I ever read so I have to give her the most credit. I love how each of these wonderful writers immerse their readers in the worlds within their books, how each of them write such strong female characters yet keep them grounded within the time period, and the way they convey the depth of emotion and conflict in their books.

Susana: What advice would you give to writers just starting out?

Katherine: One of the pieces of advice I first received is to write every day or at least five days out of the week even if you can only manage one page a day. I learned from experience that by writing every day, you keep the story in the forefront of your mind so that your subconscious is working out plot points even when you’re doing something else. If you write only when the mood strikes, odds are it will take you years to finish a manuscript if you finish it at all.

An Unexpected Gift copySusana: What is your work schedule like when writing?

Katherine: I’m lucky enough to get out of work at 3:00 p.m. so I write from 3:45 to 5:15 Monday through Friday. I sit on one side of the dining room table typing away and the boy child sits on the opposite side doing homework so there are the occasional homework question interruptions. I try to write between 20 and 25 pages of new material each week.

Susana: What are you reading now?

Katherine: I just finished Her Sudden Groom by Rose Gordon. Rose Gordon is a new author to me. Someone recommended that I read the book. I’m always on the lookout for new authors to read.

About An Unexpected Gift

Known only as Lazarus to the band of cutthroats and thieves he leads, William Prescott will do anything to find his missing sister, even blackmail a fragile young woman into helping him. But he never plans to fall in love with this mysterious woman with a troubled past.

Haunted by the memories of war, Olivia St. Germaine wants nothing more than to live a normal life. But when her brother, a doctor, suddenly leaves town without a word, she is forced to use her medical knowledge to help an injured man who puts her life in danger. Can she keep herself safe as she tends Lazarus, or is her heart more vulnerable than she realizes?

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Excerpt

“If you don’t leave, I shall have Jennings call the constable.” Olivia headed for the door.

“And how will you accomplish that?”

She halted in mid-step.

“Yes, I know there are no servants in residence.” Lazarus sauntered closer. “Did you play the benevolent mistress and give them the night off?”

Eager to keep him at a distance, she scooted around him and stood at the end of the bed. “What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?”

“Why don’t we dispense with the games, and you just tell me?”

Lazarus closed the space between them in two strides. He pushed her backward onto the bed. Olivia bounced against the soft mattress. She dug her elbows into the thick counterpane in an effort to scramble backward away from him.

Grabbing her ankles, he pulled her toward him in one quick jerk. He leaned over her. His hand closed over her hip, freezing her in place. The warmth of his hand burned through her clothes to her skin.

Feeling truly terrified for the first time since he’d announced his presence, she searched his gaze for some kind of sign this was all a great joke. No, it was no game. His eyes were as hard and cold as glass. “What do you want?” she repeated, her voice a near whisper.

“Stop asking questions about me. Forget you ever heard the name Lazarus.”

About the Author

At the age of four, Katherine pestered her mother to teach her to read. From that point on, she spent the most of her childhood lost in the pages of one book after another. Soon she began writing stories of her own, populated with characters doing all of the things she was too shy to even contemplate doing herself.

A chance meeting with another author led Katherine to seriously pursue a writing career. Her debut novel, Impetuous, was released by The Wild Rose Press in August 2011.

Katherine lives in upstate NY with her family though she threatens to move south at the beginning of each winter season.

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Kathryn Kane: Deflowering Daisy 

Interview with Kathryn Kane

Susana: What inspired you to start writing?

Kathryn: After college I was a museum curator and later the curator of a historic house. I enjoyed working with historic furnishings and artifacts and learning how they were made and used in their own time. Some years ago, having left the museum field for the tech industry, I realized I could put my knowledge of social and cultural history, as well as the history of things to use. As an author, I could create historically accurate environments for my characters and enable those characters to use those objects as they were originally intended. Many of those objects have interesting aspects to their use which I though would enrich my stories for my readers.

Susana: How long have you been writing?

Kathryn: In terms of scholarly articles, I have been writing for over twenty years. But when in comes to romance, about six years. I went through a number of different stories, with multiple drafts, as I honed my romance-writing skills. I think now I have found the right balance in my work, telling a heart-warming romance within a historically accurate setting.

Susana: What advice would you give to writers just starting out?

Kathryn: Read. But not just romance novels. Take the time to read lots of reviews of romance novels, particularly in your preferred genre. Doing that gave me the confidence to write the stories I wanted to write, since I discovered there were quite a lot of readers out there who liked the same kind of stories I did. I think that kind of confidence improves your writing and helps you to write with your own, true voice.

Susana: Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

Kathryn: Occasionally. Fortunately, I have a few solutions, or perhaps I should say, distractions, available to me. I have found that the easiest way for me to break through writer’s block is to get my mind off the blockage for a time. Physical exercise is often the best distraction for me, so I go for a long ride on my bicycle, if the weather is fine. If not, I am fortunate to live near a property which is now a large park, but used to be one the greatest country estates in New England in the early nineteenth century. Since I wrote my Master’s thesis on the estate, though the buildings are all gone, I know not only what they looked like, but how they were furnished. As I walk, I imagine life on the estate when it was at its peak. Usually, by the time I get home, new ideas are bubbling up and my writer’s block dissolves away. If a walk or a bide ride don’t do the trick, I switch gears and work on an article for my Regency history blog. It takes a lot of concentration, and by the time I finish a new article, the next chapter in my current romance does not seem quite so daunting.

Susana: Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.

Kathryn: My debut Regency romance is called Deflowering Daisy, so, as a play on the title, I have woven a number of snippets of floral history into the story. Daisy is the heroine of the story, who got her name after I did quite a lot of research into a number of flowers with names which start with “D” to find just the right characteristics. Though daisies seem to be quite common flowers, they have several valuable properties, one of which is that of healing. The hero of the story, David, is a former spy who is war-weary, soul-sick and desperately in need of healing. And the heroine, Daisy, thinks she is just as common and seemingly insignificant as the flower after which she is named. Through the course of the story, Daisy and David give each other forgiveness, self-esteem and peace, with the help of a lot of flowers.

Susana: Are you working on something at present that you would like to tell us about?

Kathryn: It is a change of genre for me, a romantic fantasy with ecological overtones. I am working on the story of a young woman who offers herself as the human sacrifice to save an ancient forest. The guardian of the forest, a powerful wizard who hates humans for the damage they have inflicted on his forest, accepts her offer. However, as he comes to know her, he finds he cannot bear the thought of her death. Yet, without it, he will die along with the forest.

Susana: What author or authors have most influenced your writing?

Kathryn: Georgette Heyer. She created the Regency romance genre, which is my favorite. She was also a diligent researcher who did her best to write historically accurate stories. I do my best to emulate her efforts in my own work, since I so much enjoyed reading hers.

Susana: What did you want to be when you grew up?

Kathryn: A librarian, since I thought all the books were kept at the library and I love books. Then, after reading lots of books by Georgette Heyer when I was in high school, I decided I wanted to study history when I went to college. But I still love libraries, because I still love books.

Susana: What is your favorite food? Least favorite? Why?

Kathryn: My favorite food is ice cream, because it is sweet, cool and creamy.
My least favorite food is liver, because it is liver.

Susana: What is one thing your readers would be most surprised to learn about you?

Kathryn: That I love progressive rock and roll, especially Rick Wakeman, Yes, and Emerson Lake and Palmer. I don’t listen to prog rock when I write, because I find it too compelling and am not able to concentrate. But I often listen to it when I am working around the house or relaxing and can give it my full attention. I find the rich layers of sound in prog rock very satisfying. Since I like those layers in music, I also try to incorporate them into the stories I write.

Susana: If your publisher offered to fly you anywhere in the world to do research on an upcoming project, where would you mostly likely want to go? Why?

Kathryn: England, in particular Bath. I have never been there, though I have read a lot about it. Jane Austen and her family spent several years there, and quite a lot of the city which remains today was there during the Regency. To me, it is the most “Regency” city in England and I would love to have the time to walk the streets and visit places like the Pump Room and the Assembly Rooms to soak up the atmosphere and get a sense of the space.

Susana: Do you have a favorite quote or saying?

Kathryn: It is the last line from the poem, To Lucasta, Going to the Wars, by Richard Lovelace.
“I could not love thee (Dear) so much,
Lov’d I not Honour more.”

Susana: Do you write in multiple genres or just one? If just one, would you consider straying outside your genre?

Kathryn:  I write primarily in Regency romance, but in the past couple of years some stories in the fantasy genre have just popped into my head and I had to write them down. It was the only way to get those characters out of my head. I am currently re-working one with an eye to publication.

Susana: What are your favorite pastimes?

Kathryn: I enjoy riding my bicycle, but I freely admit, I am a fair-weather cyclist and only ride on sunny days. However, my real passion is needlework. I love all forms of needlework. I love to crochet and tat, and I am learning to make cord with a lucet. Embroidery is also a great pleasure for me, particularly when it involves beads and silk ribbon. I love to sew, especially quilting, and have made a number of “straight” quilts, but crazy quilts are my real favorites.

Susana: What is the one modern convenience you can’t do without?

Kathryn: A washing machine. Working with fabrics requires they be washed before using to remove the chemicals with which they are treated, so a washing machine is the most important modern convenience to me. Though I am also quite fond of my clothes dryer, my iron and my steamer.

About Deflowering Daisy

“She cannot remain a virgin!”

For so she was, after nearly a decade of marriage. When she was sixteen, Daisy had willingly, happily, married a man more than fifty years her senior, to escape a forced marriage to a man she abhorred. Though Sir Arthur Hammond had been a wild rake in his youth, he was so deeply in love with his late, beloved first wife that he never considered consummating his second marriage, certainly not with a woman he considered a daughter. But now, knowing he was dying and that he would be leaving sweet, innocent Daisy ignorant of the physical intimacies which could be enjoyed between a man and a woman, he felt that it was imperative she be given the knowledge which would prepare her for the life of a wealthy widow. Armed with the knowledge of physical intimacy, she would be much better prepared to deal with any fortune hunter who might try to seduce her into marriage for her money. And who better to initiate Daisy into the pleasures of the bedchamber than his godson. David had become nearly a recluse since a tragedy which occurred while he was serving the Crown against the forces of Napoleon Bonaparte. Prior to that, his skill as a tender and considerate lover had been bruited about in certain circles. Therefore, Sir Arthur believed that David was just the man to introduce Daisy to physical pleasure. And what might spending time with true and gentle Daisy do for David?

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Excerpt

London
May 1816

She cannot remain a virgin!”

“You want me to rape your wife?” David Everard rose from his chair, shocked to his core. Sir Arthur Hammond, a man whom he had admired and respected all his life, his godfather and the man he loved as dearly as a father, was asking him to deflower his wife.

“No!” exclaimed Sir Arthur. “No, of course not. She is as dear to me as a daughter.”

Deflowering Daisy-96dpi_200 copy“And yet, in six weeks’ time, you propose to give this young lady into my keeping for the express purpose that I violate her person and take her virginity. A young lady, I might add, whom I have never met, a young lady to whom I will be a complete stranger.” His eyes narrowed as he fixed his godfather with the same withering stare which had broken more than one enemy agent under intense interrogation. “She does not know who I am?”

“No, I am sorry to say, she does not,” the older man responded with equanimity, and a note of sadness. Sir Arthur met his gaze without flinching. “I have not spoken of you, David, to anyone, even George, from the day I gave you my word I would not. I keep my promises, young man!”

“Yes, sir, I know. It gave me hope you would be safe.”

“I made that promise to you only because you asked it of me. I was never afraid.”

“But I was,” he admitted. “It was necessary that everyone believed my friends and family had cast me off. I did not want to take the chance anyone might think they could get to me through you or George. I wanted the world to think I was nothing to you, nor you to me. I had to know you were both safe in order to do what I had to, for England.”

“And you have, my boy,” Sir Arthur said. “But the war is over now and Boney is put away for good, in no small part thanks to you, I am sure.”

“Don’t try to make me into a hero, Arthur,” he said. “I am nothing of the sort.”

“Hrrmph! I will never think you anything else, no matter what you say,” came the staunch rejoinder.

Though he did not reply, deep in his soul, David felt again a wave of infinite gratitude for his godfather’s unconditional loyalty to him. Without it, he was not sure he would have been able to endure these past few months as the social exile he had become since that day on Beachy Head.

“You have spent most of this past decade risking life and limb here and on the Continent, to protect England. Have you not the courage to spend one week to protect a kind and gentle young lady and a host of orphans?”

“Protect her by taking her to bed? If she is as you say, I am sure you can find any number of men willing to bed her.”

“There is no one else I can turn to, no one else I can trust. You are like a son to me.”

“So, now you are advocating incest?” David asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “You want a man you consider a son to violate the woman you consider a daughter?” Was it possible for this to get any more repugnant, he wondered to himself.

“God’s teeth, David!” the older man shot back. “You bloody well know that is not what I am asking. Or why.” He took a long, slow, deep breath. “You have a reputation for having a way with women. It is said you give your bedmates pleasure equal to what you take, that you are a kind and considerate lover. That is what I want for Daisy. She is a complete innocent. She should be initiated tenderly, gently, by a man who will appreciate her quality.”

“Then find a man of quality to initiate her, not some spawn of hell unfit to associate with civilized people.” David walked the few paces to the fireplace as his bitter words fell into silence. When Sir Arthur did not speak, he turned. “I have not touched a woman in nearly a year and I have never taken a virgin,” he admitted. “I am the last man of whom you should ask this.”

“You are the only man I can ask, David,” the older man replied. “Despite your words, I know you to be the most decent and honorable man of my acquaintance. And Daisy is a very special girl, a loyal and generous soul whose sweet spirit should not be crushed by a cold-hearted bedding. I know you would never do that to her.”

“She is your wife. You can do the deed yourself,” David reminded him.

“No, my boy,” Sir Arthur said on a sigh. “Even if I were not much too old for her, there was only ever Millie for me. From the day I met her I never wanted another woman. Even though she is more than eleven years gone, there will never be anyone else.”

“Then encourage her to take a lover,” David suggested, trying to keep the desperation from his voice. He dropped back into his chair.

“I have tried for years, but she has never shown interest in any gentleman to whom I have introduced her. Of which there are few, near our estate in Kent,” he admitted. “And I can seldom get her to leave the country in order to broaden her acquaintance in London. She is determined to be a devoted and faithful wife, even though I doubt she has any concept of what unfaithfulness would entail. And now, it is too late. I cannot leave her so exposed, at such risk.”

“Why? What is so different now?”

Please visit Kathryn’s Books page at her web site for an extended excerpt.

Historical Snippet: Embroidery

Early in the story, the heroine, Daisy is working on her embroidery, of flowers, of course. When she puts it away for the evening, she pauses to look at her thimble when she takes it off. It is a very special thimble which means a great deal to her. It has a tiny purple enamel pansy which marks it as the product of the famous Palais Royal in Paris. The needlework implements and workboxes which were sold at the Palais Royal were considered to be the finest available at the time. Daisy received a small Palais Royal workbox on her first wedding anniversary. She had never been given anything so fine in all her life and that gift was so important to her that it quite literally saved her life. (You will have to read the story to find out how).

Though the Palais Royal stitching implements and workboxes were available only in Paris, there were still quite a number of English ladies during the Regency who had a set. Some had been acquired by the English who traveled to Paris during the Peace of Amiens, but there were also those who had contacts in Paris who could make special acquisitions for them. Therefore, despite Napoleon’s blockade, these luxury items still made their way to the needlewomen of England. And it is almost certain that any lady lucky enough to receive a workbox or implement set from Palais Royal would treasure it. These items were beautifully made and quite a few of them had delightful little secrets. Some contained music boxes, others had secret compartments, and still others were made as realistic miniatures of other objects.

More information about the exquisite Palais Royal sewing implements and workboxes can be found at Kathryn’s blog, The Regency Redingote.

About the Author

KKane_AuthorAvatarAV300Kathryn Kane is a historian and former museum curator who has enjoyed Regency romances since she first discovered them in her teens. She credits the novels of Georgette Heyer with influencing her choice of college curriculum, and she now takes advantage of her knowledge of history to write her own stories of romance in the Regency. Though she now has a career in the tech industry, she has never lost her love of the period and continues to enjoy reading Regency novels and researching her favorite period of English history.

Allison Lane: Regency Masquerades

Late Georgian Carriage Travel

Have you ever wondered how long it would take to drive 200 miles in 1810 and whether the average person could afford the trip?

Building a macadamized road

Building a macadamized road

Long-distance travel in England during the late 18th and early 19th centuries was slow and very expensive, which explains why most people spent their entire lives within five miles of their birthplace. But the upper classes did travel—to London, to their secondary estates, to visit friends… Yet it wasn’t easy. Roads were bad—muddy, rutted, sometimes completely impassible due to weather. The turnpikes gradually improved as the 18th century progressed, but even with that, by 1800 only the Bath-to-London road was truly good – it had been moved and rebuilt from scratch in 1787. Macadamization, which produced a smooth, fast surface, did not start nationally until 1818, wasn’t finished on the turnpikes until 1828, and wasn’t affordable for secondary roads until well into Victoria’s reign. During the upgrade, many travelers encountered detours that sent them along secondary roads, country lanes, or worse. (I encountered a similar situation a few years ago when my European highway turned into a construction zone; the detour sent me down a winding country lane and across a muddy pasture to reach a second winding country lane that finally returned to the main road. Scenic, but I hadn’t expected the pasture…)

Private traveling chariot

Private traveling chariot

Anyone traveling more than twenty miles had to hire horses because using personal horses for a long journey doubled or tripled the total travel time. If the traveler owned a carriage, he would hire one or two pairs to pull it. The number of horses depended on his desired speed, the weight of the loaded vehicle, and how many hills the road climbed. Hired horses were changed out every 15-20 miles. Each pair of horses came with a postilion who controlled his pair, cared for their needs, and got them back to their home stable. Post horses were hired by the mile. Every ostler knew the precise distance to the next change, so travelers paid for the hire in advance, then tipped the postilions at the end of their stage.

If the traveler did not own a carriage, he could hire one from the post office. Post office vehicles were called yellow bounders because of their color and inadequate suspensions. They were rented for a single stage just like the horses, so the traveler had to change carriages along with the horses.

Another expense of travel was turnpike tolls. Every turnpike was littered with toll gates—by the Regency there were more than 8000 of them. Tolls were collected by turnpike trusts and used to maintain the section of road under their jurisdiction. Parliament established each trust as a way to provide good roads without the government having to pay for them. Secondary roads were maintained by the parishes, which rarely had much money, so anyone wanting to travel quickly without getting bogged down in mud used turnpikes whenever possible. But all those tolls added up—each trust set its own base price, but all charged according to vehicle type and the number of horses pulling it.

3 - chaise with two postillion driven teams copy

Chaise with two postilion driven teams

When using hired horses, speed on the turnpikes averaged about five miles per hour. Postilions operated under a strictly enforced speed limit of seven miles per hour along rural turnpikes, but they had to slow for all towns and villages and stop at every toll gate which slowed their overall speed. On secondary roads the average speed was less because the road surface was so bad. After macadamization was complete, the speed limit was raised so the average speed jumped to ten miles per hour during the golden age of coaching from 1830-1840. After 1840, long-distance travel mostly switched to trains, with carriages covering only the short distance to and from the nearest railroad station.

When heading to London for the Season, the travel party would contain a man, his wife, and any older children not in school—young children usually stayed in the country. Each family member had a lady’s maid or valet. There might also be a governess and/or tutor for the children, a secretary for the husband, and possibly a secretary or companion for his wife. They might even take their housekeeper and butler, along with a coachman to drive them while in town. Plus luggage. Obviously, this would require multiple carriages, so travel expenses would skyrocket. Another reason London Seasons were so expensive.

About Regency Masquerades

Six beloved bestselling and award-winning Regency authors bring you six full-length novels of disguise, deception and secret identities. From sweet to subtly sensual, these traditional Regency Romances demonstrate that true love can see through even the most elaborate mask! 

This special, limited-edition set includes:

Daring Deception, by NYT and USA Today bestselling author Brenda Hiatt
When her brother promises her in marriage to pay a gaming debt, Miss Chesterton dons a disguise to prove Lord Seabrooke a fortune hunter. But even as she gathers evidence, she finds herself losing her heart to the handsome Earl.

Lucy in Disguise, by RITA® Award-winning author Lynn Kerstan
A charming aristocrat in trouble is rescued by a young woman disguised as a Lancashire Witch. Love comes swiftly, but she’ll only agree to wed if they protect her friend, a fearful heiress, from a greedy and dangerous family.

The Earl’s Revenge, by award-winning author Allison Lane
A battle of wits unmasks the secret lives of the Earl of Bridgeport and his former fiancée Elaine Thompson. Only love might prevent ruination.

The Lady from Spain, by award-winning author Gail Eastwood
A young woman posing as a Spanish widow returns to England after Napoleon’s war, set on a dangerous quest. Can the handsome lord who must unmask her also turn her heart toward love?

Gwen’s Ghost, by RITA® Award-winning authors Alicia Rasley and Lynn Kerstan
An unredeemed rake must mask his true self so that he can undo the damage he caused with his life–and his death.

The Redwyck Charm, by multiple award-winning author Elena Greene
Heiress Juliana Hutton masquerades as an opera dancer to escape an arranged marriage to the Earl of Amberley, but fate has different plans…

Regency Masquerades cover copy

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About the Author

Since publishing her first Regency romance in 1996, Allison Lane has won numerous writing awards. Her current project is a digital boxed set titled Regency Masquerades, which contains six full-length novels by six award-winning authors, each involving disguise, impersonation, or masquerade. The characters hide behind false facades, but as you read, you will discover that their charades ultimately lead them to true love. Regency Masquerades is now available at an introductory price of $0.99 from Amazon, B&N, iBooks, and Kobo.