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The Belles’ Holiday Wassailing Tour: Course #4

Welcome to the 4th stop of the

Belles’ Holiday Wassailing Tour!

Lady Pendleton

Lady Pendleton

The time-traveling Lady Pendleton and her family welcome you to Christmas 1811 at the Pendleton estate in Wittersham, East Sussex. Present are: Lady Julia Tate, her eldest daughter; Lady Philippa Bland and her husband George, Viscount Hooper; Lady Sarah Newsome, her husband Sir Henry Newsome, and their two daughters, Emily (2) and Theodora (3 months).

Note: Julia’s sister Lady Sarah and her family feature prominently in the sequel to An Ultimate Escape, which is titled A Home for Helena (available soon).

To win a digital copy of Lost and Found Lady and a lovely perfumed frame and cameo, mention (1)  your favorite Christmas film and (2) the name and title of the hero of Amy Rose Bennett’s story in Mistletoe, Marriage, and Mayhem in the comments below (one random commenter will be chosen). The answer can be found on her post here: http://amyrosebennett.com/the-bluestocking-belles-holiday-wassailing-tour/.

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Lady Julia Tate

Lady Julia Tate

Lady Pendleton, her daughter Julia, and Oliver Stanton are characters in The Ultimate Escape, a time travel novella in Mistletoe, Marriage, and Mayhem.

Oliver Stanton

Mr. Oliver Stanton

On the eve of her wedding, Julia realizes she cannot marry her fiancé after all, no matter that it’s been her dream for eight long years. Too distraught to face him, she follows in her mother’s footsteps and flees to the future for a brief reprieve.

Oliver knows he has bungled things badly, but he is determined to win the woman he loves, even if he must travel through time to do it.

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Christmas 1810 had been a sober affair, the Pendletons’ first without their beloved patriarch’s gentle humor. A year later, however, his wife and daughters had recovered from their grief well enough to feel his spiritual presence in their lives.

“Remember how Papa loved to sing Christmas carols before dinner?” Julia suggested as they waited in front of the fire in the music room for their Christmas dinner to be ready. “I’d like to suggest Deck the Halls. Philippa, will you play for us?”

Philippa raised her eyebrows. “You may do it yourself, Julia. We all had the same music lessons, after all.”

Julia shrugged. “I’m holding the baby,” she argued. “Little Theodosia is fast asleep. You would surely not wish to wake her, would you?”

Lady Pendleton and her youngest daughter exchanged a glance. The rivalry between Julia and Philippa had become routine in their family, even after they had become adults.

Philippa gave Julia a look of annoyance and moved to the pianoforte. “What song shall we begin with?” she asked, deliberately ignoring Julia’s request.

“I Thaw Thwee Ships come thailing in,” chimed in two-year-old Emily, “on Chwithmath Day, on Chwithmath Day.”

Sarah’s oldest daughter was playing on the floor with a model of the HMS Victory, Lord Nelson’s ship at the Battle of Trafalgar, that her father had given her for Christmas. Her mother had lightheartedly accused him of wishing Emily were a boy, but for whatever reason, their little daughter eschewed her dolls for the colorfully-painted ship.

“Emily has decided. I Saw Three Ships it is,” Philippa agreed, and played a chord to begin the singing.

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I Saw Three Ships

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5LROczmJHg

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Excerpt from The Ultimate Escape

She’d been standing there a few minutes, beginning to feel the sudden chilling of the air through her fur-lined cloak when the door to the house opened and a stout, middle-aged woman gestured for her to come inside.

“Weren’t you told to come in through the back entrance? We’ve been expecting you for over an hour, you know. Dear me, you must be freezing to death out there… might have a bit of snow this evening, or so they say.”

Julia’s mouth fell open. They were expecting her? No, of course not. She was being mistaken for someone else.

“I don’t think…” she began, but was interrupted by another, taller, woman, who unhooked her cloak and dragged her into a back room.

“The hair needs some work,” she commented as she surveyed Julia’s appearance. The dress is the right period, but the freckles! The agency surely knows proper ladies of the Regency did not have freckles.”

Julia’s eyes narrowed. She’d heard enough of that nonsense in her early years. “I assure you, they did, madam, if that was the complexion they were born with.” Scrubbing them with lemon juice and taking parasols everywhere had never made much of a difference, so she had learned to accept hers gracefully.

The tall woman raised her eyebrows and mumbled something about the “impertinence of young people these days,” and the other woman brought her some coffee and biscuits, and before she knew what was happening, her hair was restyled, her gown brushed and tidied, and she was sent upstairs to the “Striped Drawing Room” to mingle with the guests and talk to them about what it was like to live in “the Regency.”

There was an awkward moment or two before she learned that “the Regency” was the period from 1811-1820 when the Prince of Wales ruled as his father’s proxy until the king’s death in 1820. The Prince had been Regent for nearly two years in her own time, but nobody she knew called it “the Regency.” And she hadn’t, of course, known the date of the King’s death. That caused a tear or two until she realized suddenly that he had been dead for nearly 200 years, and so was everyone else she knew. Even she herself. Just thinking about it made her head spin.

But she didn’t have long to brood, because there were visitors to talk to. And other interesting things to learn—more awkward moments—such as the name of the house—Apsley House—and its most famous occupant—the Duke of Wellington, who turned out to be Arthur Wellesley, a particular friend of her father’s who, in her time, had only recently been made a marquess. From listening to the guides of some of the groups who toured the house, she learned that Wellesley had triumphed against the French emperor in a famous battle in an obscure Belgian town called Waterloo… that he had been showered with lavish gifts from all over the world, and even become Prime Minister. How intriguing!

Although she found it amusing to speak with the visitors about attending balls and dinners and answering a multitude of questions about the period in which she lived, she was relieved when the young woman whose place she had taken finally arrived, and she could leave to continue her explorations of the London of the future. What else might she discover before returning to her own time?

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christmasgoose

“The Christmas goose looks lovely,” Lady Pendleton commented, her eyes a bit moist. “Will you not carve it, Sir Henry? It is a Tate family tradition for the senior male to carve the bird.”

The butler placed the goose on the table in front of him, and a footman handed him the necessary utensils.

“My pleasure, your ladyship.” He rose and winked at Lady Sarah, who bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was no secret that she was considerably younger than her husband and that he had nearly a decade on Philippa’s husband, Viscount Hooper. “I’ve carved a few birds in my time.”

Yorkshire Christmas pie

http://www.janeausten.co.uk/yorkshire-christmas-pie-georgian-turducken/

First make a good standing crust, let the wall and bottom be very thick; bone a turkey, a goose, a fowl, a partridge, and a pigeon. Season them all very well, take half an ounce of mace, half an ounce of nutmegs, a quarter of an ounce of cloves, and half an ounce of black pepper, all beat fine together, two large spoonfuls of salt, and then mix them together. Open the fowls all down the back, and bone them; first the pigeon, then the partridge, cover them; then the fowl, then the goose, and then the turkey, which must be large; season them all well first, and lay them in the crust, so as it will look only like a whole turkey; then have a hare ready cased, and wiped with a clean cloth. Cut it to pieces; that is, joint it, season it, and lay it as close as you can on one side; and the other side woodcocks, moor game, and what sort of wild fowl you can get. Season them well, and lay them close, put at least four pounds of butter into the pie, then lay on your lid, which must be a very thick one, and let it be well baked. It must have a very hot oven, and will take at least four hours.

Recipe from: Hannah Glasse, The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy, 1747

With thanks to the Jane Austen Society (Please see above link for an in-depth discussion of the recipe)

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Wassail

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/wassail-recipe.html

Recipe by: Alton Brown

Ingredients

  • 6 small Fuji apples, cored
  • 1 cup brown sugar
  • 1 cup water
  • 72 ounces ale
  • 750 ml Madeira
  • 10 whole cloves
  • 10 whole allspice berries
  • 1 cinnamon stick, 2-inches long
  • 1 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
  • 6 large eggs, separated

Directions

  • Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
  • Put the apples into an 8 by 8-inch glass baking dish. Spoon the brown sugar into the center of each apple, dividing the sugar evenly among them. Pour the water into the bottom of the dish and bake until tender, about 45 minutes.
  • Pour the ale and Madeira into a large slow cooker. Put the cloves, allspice, and cinnamon into a small muslin bag or cheesecloth, tied with kitchen twine, and add to the slow cooker along with the ginger and nutmeg. Set the slow cooker to medium heat and bring the mixture to at least 120 degrees F. Do not boil.
  • Add the egg whites to a medium bowl and using a hand mixer, beat until stiff peaks form. Put the egg yolks into a separate bowl and beat until lightened in color and frothy, approximately 2 minutes. Add the egg whites to the yolks and using the hand mixer, beat, just until combined. Slowly add 4 to 6 ounces of the alcohol mixture from the slow cooker to the egg mixture, beating with the hand mixer on low speed. Return this mixture to the slow cooker and whisk to combine.
  • Add the apples and the liquid from the baking dish to the wassail and stir to combine. Ladle into cups and serve.

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Negus

http://www.janeausten.co.uk/negus/

To every pint of port wine, allow 1 quart of boiling water, 1/4 lb. of sugar, 1 lemon, grated nutmeg to taste.

As this beverage is more usually drunk at children’s parties than at any other, the wine need not be very old or expensive for the purpose, a new fruity wine answering very well for it. Put the wine into a jug, rub some lumps of sugar (equal to 1/4 lb.) on the lemon-rind until all the yellow part of the skin is absorbed, then squeeze the juice, and strain it. Add the sugar and lemon-juice to the port wine, with the grated nutmeg; pour over it the boiling water, cover the jug, and, when the beverage has cooled a little, it will be fit for use. Negus may also be made of sherry, or any other sweet white wine, but is more usually made of port than of any other beverage.

Sufficient: Allow 1 pint of wine, with the other ingredients in proportion, for a party of 9 or 10 children.

Recipe from: Mrs. Beeton’s Book of Household Management, 1861

With thanks to the Jane Austen Society (Please see above link for an in-depth discussion of the recipe)

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Mistletoe, Marriage, and Mayhem: A Bluestocking Belles Collection
In this collection of novellas, the Bluestocking Belles bring you seven runaway Regency brides resisting and romancing their holiday heroes under the mistletoe. Whether scampering away or dashing toward their destinies, avoiding a rogue or chasing after a scoundrel, these ladies and their gentlemen leave miles of mayhem behind them on the slippery road to a happy-ever-after.

***All proceeds benefit the Malala Fund.***

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Donate to the Malala Fund

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Links to all of the Belles’ holiday wassailing stops, with a different Regency era Christmas carol, dinner selection, and beverage, and wassail recipes at every stop that you can make in the modern kitchen.

christmas

Digital Christmas Card by EKDuncan using digital Christmas ornaments of Regency ladies

Louisa Cornell: Christmas Revels II (Giveaway)

How to Survive a Regency Family Christmas

With Christmas a little over a month away, the thoughts of any lady of the house must turn to…

“Who invited all of these people and how will I keep them entertained?”

There are all sorts of possibilities available to the discerning hostess of today. Many guests simply require a place to plug in their phone or their laptop. A television and a stack of Christmas DVD’s can provide hours of amusement to guests of all ages. Video games, board games, bowl games, and music to suit every ear and every pair of dancing feet can be provided at the mere touch of a button. And let us not forget, if all else fails, a nice Christmas punch laced with a suitable spike can keep those hard to please guests quiet if not entertained.

Think of the dilemma faced by the mistress of the house in England two hundred years ago. Unpredictable weather, no electronic options, and each and every friend, acquaintance, and relation looking to be fed, housed, and amused. What is a Regency era lady of the manor to do? Fortunately there are a number of Regency Christmas traditions designed to keep the guests occupied and the lady’s reputation as the consummate hostess secure.

As many Christmas gatherings might last as long as a month (from St. Nicholas Day to Epiphany or Twelfth Night,) a good hostess had to provide a bounty of entertainment for her guests. Trapped in a house, no matter how large and stately, with friends and relatives for an entire month could be trying at best and akin to a wartime siege at worst. In addition to the usual Regency party games – charades and whist, here are a few sources of entertainment common to a Regency Christmas.

On St. Nicholas Day (December 6th) small gifts were exchanged among friends. This marked the official beginning of the Christmas season. After this the rounds of Christmas balls, parties and visits ensued.

While Christmas carols might be sung around the piano by friends and family, caroling as we know it was not something members of the ton did, save perhaps a group of young people out for a lark.

However, while there were no Christmas carolers in Regency England, there were wassail groups who would go from house to house singing begging songs in the hope of receiving food, drink, and money. Wassail was a mixture of beer, wine and brandy and was usually served to the singers at each house.

The house was not decorated for Christmas until Christmas Eve. To do so earlier was thought to bring bad luck. Whilst servants often “brought in the greens,” as it was called, a more creative hostess might send her guests, especially the younger ones, to make up a party and go out into the estate’s forests and woodlands in search of greenery to festoon the manor. The guests enjoyed a bit of fresh air and exercise and there were many opportunities for young men and women to end up under the mistletoe for a surreptitious kiss as they cut it for kissing boughs to be hung in each open doorway and out of the way corner for later “accidental” meetings. Men had the opportunity to show off for the ladies as they dragged the yule log into the house to be lit from a stub from last year’s log and burnt in the hearth until Twelfth Night.

Another source of entertainment were troupes of players called mummers, a tradition dating back to the medieval era. These varied from professional players to groups of lower class men who went from door to door asking if mummers were wanted. A good hostess might even hire a specific troupe to stop and entertain her guests. They were dressed in elaborate costumes with high paper caps – gilded and spangled, and ribbons of every color tied to their clothes. The characters of St. George and the Prince were also armed with ten swords. Their performance was called a “mysterie,” a very specific sort of play, which ended with a song and the collection of funds from those who had enjoyed the performance.

It is thought these mummers’ plays were the forerunners of a Regency tradition still alive today in England – the Christmas pantomime. It usually opened on Boxing Day (December 26th) and was performed in local theatres. Drury Lane hosted one in London and even Astley’s Amphitheatre held a special Christmas spectacular.

Another Boxing Day activity for the men in attendance, and some of the more adventurous ladies, was fox hunting. The Boxing Day Hunt was a long standing tradition, one I observed when I lived in England as a child.

Under the heading of a Regency version of “Hey y’all, watch this!” comes the Christmas game of Snapdragon. Raisins were soaked in brandy in a large shallow bowl. The lights were snuffed out, and the brandy lit. People had to try and grasp a raisin and eat it without burning themselves. I think you’d have to soak me in brandy to get me to try it!

A more tame version of the game was called bullet pudding and is described here in a letter from Jane Austen’s niece, Fanny Knight, to a friend.

Godmersham Park, 17 January 1804

…I was surprised to hear that you did not know what a Bullet Pudding is, but as you don’t I will endeavour to describe it as follows:

You must have a large pewter dish filled with flour which you must pile up into a sort of pudding with a peek at top. You must then lay a bullet at top and everybody cuts a slice of it, and the person that is cutting it when it falls must poke about with their noses and chins till they find it and then take it out with their mouths of which makes them strange figures all covered with flour but the worst is that you must not laugh for fear of the flour getting up your nose and mouth and choking you: You must not use your hands in taking the Bullet out.

I think this might be a successful game even today. It sounds like a great deal of fun.

Christmas trees were not prevalent during the Regency, although some houses were known to put up small ones bedecked with small gifts. They were made more popular in England by Queen Victoria and Prince Albert in the middle of the 19th century. However, on Epiphany Eve, men would gather round a tree, usually in an orchard, with cider and guns. In an ancient ceremony, they would drink to the tree and fire the guns to drive away evil spirits and promote the vigor of the trees. Horn-blowing was an alternative to firing guns. One would hope the lady had a physician in attendance, just in case.

A more ambitious hostess might engage her guests in performing their own Christmas play. With a month to write and rehearse it, some of these plays were quite elaborate. And on Twelfth Night (the official end of the Christmas season) gifts were exchanged again and a masquerade party was held. To add to the fun, guests sometimes had to search the house for elements of their costumes. Sometimes they would draw names of characters they were to play throughout the party. The characters’ names usually described the sort of person the guest was to portray. Mrs. Candor – a lady who always speaks with perfect frankness. Miss Tittletattle, who speaks nothing but gossip. Lord Bumblefoot, who trods on ladies’ toes when dancing. The character must be maintained throughout the party.

Once the Twelfth Night festivities were over it was time to take your leave until next year. As you can see, a lack of electronic devices did not hinder the ladies and gentlemen of the Regency era from celebrating Christmas with a great deal of laughter, joy, friendship, and love. Exactly what I wish for each of you during this most wonderful of seasons!

Do you have any unique Christmas traditions or forms of entertainment enjoyed by your friends and family? Tell us about them! A random commenter will receive an e-copy of either Christmas Revels or Christmas Revels II – winner’s choice.

CR - ebook cover copy

About Christmas Revels II

Let the Revels begin—again! Four new stories with four distinctive voices:

The Vicar’s Christmas by Anna D. Allen

Margaret Trent never needs anything or anyone, but when two London solicitors show up on her doorstep, she needs a hero. Enter Henry Ogden, mild-mannered village vicar. Hardly the stuff of heroes . . . until adversity brings out unexpected talents.

A Christmas Equation by Hannah Meredith

A chance meeting between a reluctant viscount and a self-effacing companion revives memories of their shared past—a time when they were very different people. With secrets to keep, Sarah Clendenin wishes Benjamin Radcliff gone . . . but he’s making calculations of his own.

Crimson Snow by Kate Parker

A trail of blood drops leads Jane Merrywether to a wounded stranger—the only person standing in the way of her wicked guardian becoming an earl. John Rexford, long-thought dead, has returned to claim his inheritance and his promised bride . . . if he can survive a murderous Christmas.

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas by Louisa Cornell

After years at war, Viscount Pennyworth returns to his ancestral home to find some peace and quiet and to avoid the holiday he loathes. But four naughty boys, a bonnet-wearing goat, a one-eyed cat, a family secret, and one Annabelle Winters, governess, make this a Christmas he’ll never forget.

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Excerpt

A Perfectly Unregimented Christmas

“And what of Christmas, my lord? Are the boys to have no part of the holiday?”

“I have not celebrated Christmas in twenty years, Mrs. Winters. Soldiers seldom have much chance on the battlefield.”

“This is not a battlefield, my lord. This is your home. And theirs while they remain.”

He crossed the room to where she sat. Putting one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair, he leaned over her. The scent of soap, leather, and cloves made her want to move closer, but she did not dare.

“I have been pelted with snow-covered potatoes, knocked down the stairs, attacked by some unidentified one-eyed creature—”

“Attila. He’s a cat.”

“By what right does that thing call himself a cat? I have had my breakfast poisoned, my patience tried, and my sanity called into question. What would you call it, if not a battlefield? There will be no Christmas in this house.” He blinked. Slowly removed his hands. And took a step back. With a brief nod he turned to go.

“We’ll just see about that,” Belle muttered.

“Do not go to war with me, madam. I have years of experience and tricks you cannot begin to imagine.” He threw open the parlor door and stalked down the corridor, his boots delivering a ringing celebration of his temper.

“So do I, Colonel Miserington. So. Do. I.”

 

About the Author

100_0239[1] (3) Revise2 copyLouisa Cornell read her first historical romance novel, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, at the age of nine. This inspired her to spend the next three years writing the most horrible historical romance novel ever created. Fortunately, it has yet to see the light of day. As Louisa spent those three years living in a little English village in Suffolk (thanks to her father’s Air Force career), it is no surprise she developed a lifelong love of all things British, especially British history and Regency-set romance novels. (And Earl Grey tea!)

During those same three years, Louisa’s vocal talent was discovered. Her study of music began at the London College of Music and continued once she returned to the States. After four music degrees and a year of study at the Mozarteum in Salzburg, Austria, Louisa was fortunate enough to embark on a singing career in opera houses in Germany, Austria, and most of Eastern Europe. As a traveling diva, Louisa discovered playing a role costumed in lingerie in March can be a chilling experience, and in most Romanian B&B’s hot water is strictly a matter of opinion.

Now retired from an active career in opera, Louisa has returned to her first love— writing Regency-set historical romance. Her publishing debut, A PERFECTLY DREADFUL CHRISTMAS (from the anthology Christmas Revels,) won the 2015 Holt Medallion for Best Romance Novella.

Two time Golden Heart finalist, three time Daphne du Maurier winner, and three time Royal Ascot winner, Louisa lives in LA (Lower Alabama) with Frodo, a Chihuahua so grouchy he has been banned from six veterinary clinics, several perfectly amiable small dogs, one large, goofy dog named Duke, and a cat who terminates vermin with extreme prejudice.

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The Bluestocking Belles: Mistletoe, Marriage & Mayhem

box set 2

The first joint volume of the Bluestocking Belles—seven Christmas novellas about runaway brides—will be released on November 1, 2015. We’re excited! It’s currently running #12 on Amazon’s Hot New Releases, and if you order it now, you’ll have it on your device by November 1 at only 99¢.

100% of royalties go to the Malala Fund. Find out more here.

About Mistletoe, Marriage & Mayhem

All She Wants for Christmas

Amy Rose Bennett

A frosty bluestocking and a hot-blooded rake. A stolen kiss and a Yuletide wedding. Sparks fly, but will hearts melt this Christmas?

The Ultimate Escape

Susana Ellis

Abandoned on his wedding day, Oliver must choose between losing his bride forever or crossing over two hundred years to find her and win her back.

‘Tis Her Season

Mariana Gabrielle

Charlotte Amberly returns a Christmas gift from her intended—the ring—then hares off to London to take husband-hunting into her own hands. Will she let herself be caught?

Gingerbread Bride

Jude Knight

Travelling with her father’s fleet has not prepared Mary Pritchard for London. When she strikes out on her own, she finds adventure, trouble, and her girlhood hero, riding once more to her rescue.

A Dangerous Nativity

Caroline Warfield

With Christmas coming, can the Earl of Chadbourn repair his widowed sister’s damaged estate, and far more damaged family? Dare he hope for love in the bargain?

Joy to the World

Nicole Zoltack

Eliza Berkeley discovers she is marrying the wrong man—on her wedding day. When the real duke turns up, will her chance at marital bliss be spoiled?

Under the Mistletoe

Sherry Ewing

Margaret Templeton will settle for Captain Morledge’s hand in marriage, until she sees the man she once loved at the Christmas party she presides over for her would-be betrothed.

Available now for pre-order price of 99¢

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About the Bluestocking Belles

The Bluestocking Belles’ books carry you into the past for your happy-ever-after. When you have turned the last page of our novels and novellas, keep up with us (and other historical romance authors) in the Teatime Tattler, a Regency scandal sheet, and join in with the characters you love for impromptu storytelling in the Bluestocking Bookshop on Facebook. Also, look for online games and contests and monthly book chats, and find us at BellesInBlue on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest. Come visit at http://www.BluestockingBelles.com and kick up your bluestockinged heels!

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Check out our recent publication:

The Bluestocking Belles’ Guide to a Good Time

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  • games and puzzles related to historical romance
  • excerpts from some of the Belles’ books
  • information about the Malala Fund, to which all profits from our joint projects are committed

Free download here or purchase here for $4.99

Lauren Smith: The League of Rogues, Book 2

Character Interview with Lucien and Horatia

from His Wicked Seduction

Rochester Hall in Kent was full of life for the Christmas holidays. I was fortunate that I could take a chance to interview Lord Rochester and his soon to be bride Horatia Sheridan. Their engagement had caused quite a scandal because Horatia’s brother Cedric was Lucien’s friend, and they had fought a duel on Christmas day over Horatia’s honor, and then all three of them were nearly killed by an assassin from Lucien’s past. It was a story I needed to hear more details about and had reached out to Horatia for an interview.

Lauren_Smith_2014 copyShortly after arriving at the beautiful mansion in the countryside via coach, I was escorted to a drawing room to wait for his lordship and Horatia to arrive. A few moments later, a maid with a tea tray bustled in, followed by a handsome man in his early thirties with dark red hair and a wicked, yet playful smile. He tugged the edges of his silver waistcoat down and walked over to where I sat on the settee and bowed gracefully.

“Tis a pleasure, Madame.” He captured my hand and feathered a light kiss across my knuckles.

“Thank you, my lord. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” I knew I was blushing, and by the amused glint in his eyes, he knew I was blushing too. Even betrothed and most decidedly off limits to a woman like me, Lucien, Lord Rochester, was irresistible.

The door opened again, to admit a woman I recognized, my friend Horatia Sheridan. In a rich blue silk gown, a color more suited to a married lady than a unmarried one, she looked stunning. In Rochester Hall, away from society’s judgmental eyes, Horatia was wearing gowns that looked much better with her fair skin.

“Lauren!” She rushed to greet me and we embraced.

“I’m so happy for you, Horatia. When I heard the news, I knew I had to come down and speak to you and meet your future husband.”

“Thank you.” Horatia snuck a little glance at Lucien who was grinning openly. The rogue. I smiled too.

“Why don’t we sit down and you can ask us your questions.” Horatia suggested.

Me: Lucien, it is no secret that you are a member of the League of Rogues. What is it like to be branded a rogue by London’s society?

Lucien: “Good lord, you don’t hold back, do you? Well, yes, I’m a member of the League. There are six of us: Godric, Cedric, Ashton, Charles, Jonathan and myself. I don’t mind the amusing moniker of the name. It suits me quite well. I’m both an acknowledged rake and a rogue, so why deny it?” he leaned back in his chair and crossed one booted knee over his ankles.

Me: So, Lucien – tell us about this Midnight Garden we’ve heard about? Is it the type of place you would think to encounter a young girl?

At this Lucien actually paled. “Right, well. It’s a place of ill repute,” he hesitated. “You know, a place where a man or woman with sensual appetites can be sated. Certainly not a place for a well bred young woman.” He coughed and shot a direct gaze at Horatia. She shrugged at him, then smoothed her skirts, as though unperturbed by his silent chastisement.

Me: Then it must have about given you a heart attack when you noticed Horatia there! Tell us about it?

“I’ll tell you,” Horatia butted in before Lucien could speak. “I think I was more shocked than he, even though it was my plan to find him. You see, I bribed one of his servants to find out where he went in the evenings, and decided that if he wanted a woman to take to bed, it had better be me, since I was so completely in love with him. Then when I came into his room, we each wore masks per the rules of the Garden, but he recognized me, and I knew it was him.” Horatia finally looked over at her lover, a playful little smile on her lips. “He thought he’d teach me a lesson and half-seduce me, but we both lost ourselves to the passion and it was wonderful.”

Me: Horatia – it must have been quite frightening to go to that place – what made you decide to do that?

“Lucien was afraid to fall in love with me because he is my brother’s best friend. Cedric would have killed him if he even looked at me in a desiring way. But I knew I had to be with Lucien, and that meant taking wild risks in order to save him from his attempt to hide from me.”

Me: It seems like you took a round about way to love – did you ever have any doubts that you would be separated?

Lucien answered this time. “Well, when her brother had his pistol pointed at my chest there were definitely doubts that I might shed this mortal coil and never seen my beloved, darling Horatia ever again.”

Horatia’s eyes sparked with tears. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it. When that assassin trapped us in the burning gardener’s cottage, I was convinced we would not make it out. But we did.” She took Lucien’s hand and they shared a secret look of love.

Me: You’ve known each other since you were quite young.  Any fun childhood memories?

Lucien laughed. “I was a young man when I met Horatia. She was only fourteen and I was in my twenties. She was also so serious as a child, determined to replace her deceased mother in the family and take care of her older brother Cedric and her younger sister Audrey.”

“And you were all charm and teasing, Lucien. It’s what drew me to you. Like a flower to the sun, I craved your light-hearted spirit to ease my serious one,” Horatia added.

Me: Were any of those memories at Rochester Hall? Had you ever spent the Christmas holidays there before with Lucien’s family?

Horatia shook her head. “I only spent one real holiday at Rochester Hall and it wasn’t during Christmas. I was there during the spring and accidentally ruined Lucien’s attempt to propose another woman. I spilled a bucket of water over her head from the top of a gazebo.”

Lucien chuckled. “I was so furious with you, love, but now I can only thank you from saving me from marrying that awful creature.” He turned to face me. “You see, I was going to marry Melanie Burns. She ended up marrying my dreaded enemy, Hugo Waverly. It was him who sent the assassin after us to kill us, but not because of Melanie. That’s another story, I won’t share here.”

Me: As one of the League of Rogues, we had never thought you’d settle down – not for years! What was it that Horatia did or said to get you to abandon your single life so quickly? 

Lucien smirked. “What indeed?” He slid a hand into the pocket of his dark blue trousers and pulled out a piece of fine red silk cut into a strip. “I discovered my little Horatia had a taste for bondage in bed, she like to be tied up, just as much as I loved to tie her up, among other things.” He winked at his future wife. “But the truth is this, she wasn’t afraid to be herself with me, even when I was a fool and tried to push her away. She was brave, bold and beautiful, and I knew a woman like that was a rare find and I couldn’t deny my feelings for her any longer. A woman like that deserves to be loved and cherished, even by a scoundrel like me.”

Me: Are you sad to leave your reputation as a playboy behind – or are you excited for whatever new adventures lie in front of you with your new wife?

He laughed. “Sad to leave behind my lonely bachelor ways? Absolutely not.”

Horatia giggled. “He’s most happily entertained with me. I keep him busy and satisfied.

“No doubt,” Lucien continued. “We’ll have plenty of children to keep us both busy. My mother will get her wish for grandchildren sooner rather than later I expect.”

Me: And now the most important question of the interview – now that Lucien is in wedded bliss, which of her children will Lady Rochester now turn her matchmaking abilities to?

“My mother? Who will her next matchmaking victim be? That’s a frightening guess to make. I feel, if I answer that I’d condemn one of my younger brothers or my sister to a wedding. But, then again, I’d love to torture one of my siblings. Let’s see, next in line by age is Lawrence, he’s like me, too stubborn for even my mother to arrange anything. Then there’s Avery, the family spy, always off on the Continent doing lord knows what to save King and Country. Then there’s Linus, he’s lovestruck with Lucinda Cavendish but far too young to marry, he’s only twenty-one. I would have to my bet on Lysandra, my only sister, just nineteen. However, she’s a real blue stocking, addicting to education and learning, not into husband hunting. I imagine my mother will set her sights on poor Lysa.”

I laughed and thanked Lucien and Horatia for allowing me to ask those rather personal questions. They in turn insisted that I stay with them through the remainder of the holidays. A Russell family Christmas? How could I refuse? Humming merrily, I picked up my belongings and went straight to my rooms, determined to write their story, His Wicked Seduction, one more adventures of the League of Rogues. I can’t wait!

About The League of Rogues, Book 2

Can the League’s most wicked rakehell be tamed? Or has this Rogue fallen too far?

Horatia Sheridan has been hopelessly in love with Lucien, her brother’s best friend, ever since he rescued her from the broken remains of her parents’ wrecked carriage. His reputation as London’s most notorious rakehell doesn’t frighten her, for under his veneer of cool authority she has glimpsed a man whose wicked desires inspire her own.

HisWickedSeduction300 copyLucien, Marquess of Rochester, has deliberately nurtured a reputation for debauchery that makes every matchmaking mother of the ton quake with fear. His one secret: he is torn between soul-ripping lust for Horatia, and the loyalty he owes her brother.

That loyalty is put to the test when an old enemy of the League threatens Horatia’s life. With Christmas drawing near, he sweeps her away to his country estate, where he can’t resist granting her one wish—to share his bed and his heart.

But sinister forces are lurking, awaiting the perfect moment to exact their revenge by destroying not only whatever happiness Lucien might find in Horatia’s arms, but the lives of those they love.

Warning: This book contains an intelligent lady who is determined to seduce her brother’s friend, a brooding rake whose toy of choice in bed is a little bit of bondage with a piece of red silk, a loyal band of merry rogues and a Christmas love so scorching you’ll need fresh snow to extinguish it.

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Excerpt

She is going to be the death of me.

“Lucien! You’re not even listening to me, are you? I’m in desperate need of a new valet and you’ve been woolgathering rather than offering suggestions. I daresay you have enough for a decent coat and a pair of mittens by now.”

Lucien Russell, the Marquess of Rochester, looked to his friend Charles. They were walking down Bond Street, Lucien keeping careful watch over one particular lady without her knowledge and Charles simply enjoying the chance for an outing. The street was surprisingly crowded for so early in the day and during such foul wintry weather.

“Admit it,” Charles prodded.

Lucien fought to focus on his friend. “Sorry?”

The Earl of Lonsdale fixed him with a stern glare which, given that his usual manner tended towards jovial, was a little alarming.

“Where is your head? You’ve been out of sorts all morning.”

Lucien grunted. He had no intention of explaining himself. His thoughts were sinful ones, ones that would lead him straight to a fiery spot in Hell, assuming one wasn’t already reserved for him. All because of one woman: Horatia Sheridan.

She was halfway up Bond Street on the opposite side of the road, a beacon of beauty standing out from the women around her. A footman dressed in the Sheridan livery trailed diligently behind her with a large box in his arms. A new dress, if Lucien had to hazard a guess. She should not be out traipsing about on snow-covered walkways, not with these carriages rumbling past, casting muddy slush all over. It frustrated him to think she was risking a chill for the sake of shopping. It frustrated him more that he was so concerned about it.

“I know you think I’m a half-wit on most days, but—”

“Only most?” Lucien couldn’t resist the verbal jab.

Charles grinned. “As I was saying, it’s a bit obvious our leisurely stroll is merely a ruse. I’ve noticed we’ve stopped several times, matching the pattern of a certain lady of our acquaintance across the street.”

So Charles had been watchful after all. Lucien shouldn’t have been surprised. He hadn’t done his best to conceal his interest in Horatia Sheridan. It was too hard to fight the natural pull of his gaze whenever she was near. She was twenty years old, yet she carried herself with the natural grace of a mature and educated queen. Not many women could achieve such a feat. For as long as he’d known her, she’d been that way.

He’d been a young man in his twenties when he met her, and she’d been all of fourteen. She’d been like a little sister to him. Even then, she’d struck him as more mentally and emotionally mature than most women in their later years. There was something about her eyes, the way her doe-brown pools held a man rooted to the spot with intelligence—and in these last few months, attraction…

“You’d best stop staring,” Charles intoned quietly. “People are starting to notice.”

“She shouldn’t be out in this weather. Her brother would have a fit.” Lucien tugged his leather gloves tighter, hoping to erase the lingering effects of the chill wind that slid between his coat sleeves and gloves.

Charles burst out into a laugh, one loud enough to draw the attention of nearby onlookers. “Cedric loves her and little Audrey, but you and I both know that does not stop either of them from doing just as they please.”

There was far too much truth in that. Lucien and Charles had known Cedric, Viscount Sheridan for many years, bonded during one dark night at university. The memory of when he, Charles, Cedric and two others, Godric and Ashton, had first met always unsettled him. Still, what had happened had forged an unbreakable bond between the five of them. Later, London, or at least the society pages, had dubbed them The League of Rogues.

The League. How amusing it all was…except for one thing. The night they’d formed their alliance each of the five men had been marked by the Devil himself. A man by the name of Hugo Waverly, a fellow student at Cambridge, had sworn vengeance on them.

And sometimes Lucien wondered if they didn’t deserve it.

Lucien shook off the heavy thoughts. He was drawn to the vision of Horatia pausing to admire a shop window displaying an array of poke bonnets nestled on stands. Her beleaguered footman stood by her elbow, juggling the box in his arms. He nodded smartly as Horatia pointed out a particular bonnet. Lucien was tempted to venture forth and speak with her, possibly lure her into an alley in order to have just a moment alone with her. Even if he only spoke with her, he feared the intimacy of that conversation would get him a bullet through his heart if her brother ever found out.

Charles had walked a few feet ahead, then stopped and turned to kick a pile of snow into the street. “If this is how you mean to spend the day then consider me gone. I could be at Jackson’s Salon right now, or better yet, savoring the favors of the fine ladies at the Midnight Garden.”

Lucien knew he’d put Charles out of sorts asking him to come today, but he’d had a peculiar feeling since he’d risen this morning, as though someone was walking over his grave. Ever since Hugo Waverly had returned to London, he had been keeping on eye on Cedric’s sisters, particularly Horatia. Waverly had a way of creating collateral damage and Lucien would do anything to keep these innocent ladies safe. But she mustn’t know he was watching over her. He’d spent the last six years being outwardly cold to her, praying she’d stop gazing at him in that sweet, loving way of hers.

It was cruel of him, yes, but if he did not create some distance, he’d have had her on her back beneath him. She was too good a woman for that, and he was far too wicked to be worthy of her. Rather like a demon falling for an angel. He longed for her in ways he’d never craved for other women, and he could never have her.

The reason was simple. His public reputation did not do justice to the true depth of his debauchery. A man like him could and should never be with a woman like Horatia. She was beauty, intelligence and strength, and he would corrupt her with just one night in his arms.

Within the ton, there was scandal and then there was scandal. For a certain class of woman, being seen with the wrong man in the wrong place could be enough to ruin her reputation and damage her prospects. These fair creatures deserved nothing but the utmost in courtesy and propriety.

For others, the widows still longing for love, those who had no interest in husbands but did from time to time seek companionship, and that rare lovely breed of woman who had both the wealth and position to afford to not give a toss about what society thought, there was Lucien. He seduced them all, taught them to open themselves up to their deepest desires and needs, and seek satisfaction. Not once had a woman complained or been dissatisfied after he had departed from her bed. But there was only one bed he sought now, and it was one he should never be invited into.

He glanced about and noticed a familiar coach among the other carriages on the street. Much of the street’s traffic had been moving steadily and quicker than the people on foot, but not that coach. There was nothing unusual about it; the rider was covered with a scarf like all the others, to keep out the chill, yet each time he and Charles had crossed a street, the coach had shadowed them.

“Charles, do think we’re being followed?”

Charles brushed off some snow from his gloved hands when it dropped onto him from a nearby shop’s eave. “What? What on earth for?”

“I don’t know. That carriage. It has been with us for quite a few streets.”

“Lucien, we’re in a popular part of London. No doubt someone is shopping and ordering their carriage to keep close.”

“Hmm,” was all he said before he turned his attention back to Horatia and her footman. One of her spare gloves fell out of her cloak and onto the ground, going unnoticed by both her and her servant. Lucien debated briefly whether or not he should interfere and alert her to the fact that he and Charles had been following her. When she continued to walk ahead, leaving her glove behind, he made his decision.

Lucien caught up with his friend still ahead of him on the street. “I’ll not keep you. Horatia’s dropped a glove and I wish to return it to her.”

“Plagued by a bit of chivalry, eh? Go on then, I want to stop here a moment.” He pointed to a bookshop.

“Very good. Catch me up when you’re ready.”

Lucien dodged through the traffic on the road and was halfway across the street when pandemonium struck.

Bond Street was turned on its head as screams tore through the air. The coach that had been shadowing him raced down the road in Lucien’s direction. Yet, rather than trying to halt the team, the driver whipped the horses, urging them directly at Lucien.

He was too far across the street to turn back; he had to get to safety and get others out of the way. Horatia! She could be trampled when it passed her. Lucien’s heart shot into his throat as he ran. The driver whipped the horses again, as if sensing Lucien’s determination to escape.

“Horatia!” Lucien bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Out of the way!”

About the Author

Amazon Best Selling author, Lauren Smith is an attorney by day, author by night, who pens adventurous and edgy romance stories by the light of her smart phone flashlight app. She’s a native Oklahoman who lives with her three pets: a feisty chinchilla, sophisticated cat and dapper little schnauzer. She’s won multiple awards in several romance subgenres including being an Amazon.com Breakthrough Novel Award Quarter-Finalist and a Semi-Finalist for the Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley Award.

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“Smith’s fast-paced historical keeps readers on their toes as they’re taken hostage by a whirlwind of characters and an unforgettable romance. Readers will get their fair share of emotional outbursts, which includes laughter, lust, anger and sadness…it’s action-packed, sizzling hot and readers of all genres will enjoy the scramble to the finish.”—RT Book Reviews Magazine
 
“Lauren Smith’s debut League of Rogues novel is a fun, clever and wonderfully sympathetic read that will no doubt earn her a number of fans. Her insight into her characters and willingness to take risks with them is impressive…and brought a fresh voice and a heap of compassion, transforming it into something highly readable and quite enjoyable.”—The Romance Reviews
 
“The best thing for me was the quality of Lauren Smith’s writing. I will read her again. She is a fresh voice to watch out for.”—Romantic Historical Reviews
 
“I really enjoyed Wicked Designs, Lauren Smith’s debut Regency historical novel. This witty and entertaining romance features an emotionally scarred hero, a smart heroine and a loveable group of rogues… Emily is a delightful heroine. She is smart, courageous and spirited enough to stand up for herself. I love her determination to outwit her captors and escape. She certainly keeps those five rogues on their toes!”—Rakes and Rascals.com

A Regency Christmas Quiz

A Regency Christmas Quiz

(Answers below)

For this quiz, the Regency is defined as 1811-1830.

True/False

  1. Christmas trees lit by candles were common decorations in Regency England.
  2. Gift-giving was a prominent Christmas tradition in Regency times.
  3. The Twelve Days of Christmas began on December 26 and ended on January 6 and did not include Christmas Day because it was a solemn, holy day and not one for partying.
  4. Many Christmas traditions were pagan in origin.
  5. Although it originated as a pagan ceremony to ensure a good apple crop, wassailing became more of caroling event in the Regency.
  6. Christmas Pudding, or Plum Cake, contains raisins rather than plums.
  7. A Christmas Pudding can be made months in advance.
  8. Finding a thimble in your slice of Christmas Pudding means good luck for the coming year.
  9. Mince pie and all things Christmas were banned during Cromwell’s reign because they were considered “pagan,” but it all came back when Charles II came into power.
  10. Originally, mince pie was made with meat and spices and served as a main course.
  11. The three spices in mince pie—cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg—were meant to represent the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
  12. Originally, the Yule Log was from the largest tree that would fit in the fireplace so it would keep burning throughout the Twelve Days of Christmas.
  13. “Mummers” were traveling troupes of actors who would go door-to-door offering to perform and sing for a few coins.
  14. In the Regency era, Christmas decorations were often left up throughout the month of January.
  15. Silent Night was one of the Christmas songs commonly sung in the Regency era.
  16. The custom of stealing kisses beneath the kissing bough, or even a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling or doorway in a place where people were certain to walk beneath it, became popular in the late eighteenth century.
  17. Boxing Day was a time to reward servants, tenants and tradesmen with gifts of money and/or food.
  18. Plough Monday, which is the Monday after Twelfth Day (Epiphany), is when the farm laborers are called back to work after the Christmastide.
  19. Christmas Eve was the traditional night for wassailing.
  20. If your piece of King Cake contained a bean, you were crowned “King” for the night.

Contest Winner

(from the Sweet N Sexy Divas blog contest)

Nancy Mayer

Regency Researcher Extraordinaire

Answers

  1. False. Christmas trees did not appear until the Victorian era, when Prince Albert brought the German custom to England.
  2. False.
  3. True.
  4. True.
  5. True.
  6. True.
  7. True.
  8. False. It means “thrift.” Finding a wishbone means good luck.
  9. True.
  10. True
  11. False. The three spices were in honor of the Three Magi who came from the Orient to honor the Christ Child.
  12. False. The Yule Log was the largest and tallest true and was inserted the long way into the fireplace, with the rest jutting out into the room. In the Regency era, it was a large log that would burn at least twelve hours on Christmas Day.
  13. True
  14. False. It was bad luck to have them up past Twelfth Day (January 6th).
  15. False. Stille Nacht was one of many German songs that were exported to Britain during the Victorian era.
  16. True.
  17. True. Because servants were required to work on Christmas Day, it was tradition to give them the next day off to spend with their families.
  18. True.
  19. False. Twelfth Night (the evening of January 5th) was the traditional night for wassailing.
  20. True. Whoever got the pea was “Queen.”

About A Twelfth Night Tale

In A Twelfth Night Tale, the Barlows celebrate the holiday with their neighbors, the Livingstons, and the St. Vincents—a wealthy viscount who is courting the elder daughter Lucy and his three daughters. Andrew Livingston, who has returned wounded from the Peninsula, suffers a few pangs of jealousy as he watches the viscount’s attentiveness to the now-grown-up-and-very-desirable Lucy. Is it too late for him to stake a claim for her?

http://www.susanaellis.com/A_Twelfth_Night_Tale.html

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A Regency Christmas Dinner

Christmas Decoration

Merry Christmas!

 Reblogged from Kathy L. Wheeler‘s Blog

December 10, 2013

Roast beef dinner

Christmas Dinner, served around midday, might feature a boar’s head (really a pig, since there weren’t any boars around by then), roast goose or roast turkey (which came to England from the New World around 1550 and rose in popularity through the eighteenth century). These were accompanied by vegetables such as boiled or steamed brussels sprouts, carrots, parsnips, and roast potatoes (sometimes boiled or mashed), as well as stuffing.

According to legend, Henry VIII was the first to have turkey served at Christmas. In A Christmas Carol (1843), Scrooge sends the Cratchitts a large turkey for their Christmas dinner. But turkey did not become a popular favorite in England until the 20th century.

The meal would be accompanied by wine or wassail (See December 13th post), which was often made with sherry or brandy.

wassail copy

For dessert, there was always a Christmas pudding (See December 3rd post), which might be served with brandy butter or cream. Although it was sometimes called “plum pudding,” there were no plums—only raisins. Mince pie was another traditional favorite (See December 4th post). There might also be gingerbread and marzipan and other popular sweet treats.

After dinner, the family might gather around the pianoforte (if there was one) and sing carols such as Deck the Halls, Here We Come a-Wassailing, and While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks. Most other Christmas carols sung today are of German origin and didn’t spread to England until Victorian times.

Traditionally, a small tithe was given to a landowner on Christmas Day, and sometimes children might receive a small toy, but the Regency Christmas was not a time of gift-giving as it is today. All in all, Christmas was a time for family to assemble together and celebrate the Christmas-tide Season.

A Twelfth Night Tale is on sale for the remainder of 2014!

In A Twelfth Night Tale, the Barlows celebrate the holiday with their neighbors, the Livingstons, and the St. Vincents—a wealthy viscount who is courting the elder daughter Lucy and his three daughters. Andrew Livingston, who has returned wounded from the Peninsula, suffers a few pangs of jealousy as he watches the viscount’s attentiveness to the now-grown-up-and-very-desirable Lucy. Is it too late for him to stake a claim for her?

http://www.susanaellis.com/A_Twelfth_Night_Tale.html

twelfthnighttale_msr copy200x300

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Cynthia Moore: It’s Never Enough

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 Cynthia

It all started with the theme-Christmas Feasts. I wanted to set up an opening scene showing the heroine unable to sleep because she is hungry. She convinces her maid to accompany her to the kitchen for a late night meal. I needed the heroine to encounter the hero in the kitchen unexpectedly. They should each show embarrassment as well as longing and concern for one another (an obvious hint at continued affection on both sides). Then I had to come up with a reason why they were each holding their emotions in check. That’s when I decided that there would be a misunderstanding between them the night before the hero goes to war. This mistake has festered and bothered each of them in the months the hero has been away. She is confused and heartbroken, he is full of longing for her but he believes he did the right thing to set her free so that she could be with the man she loved.

About It’s Never Enough

Lady Selina Durwood has been in love with Lord Robert Crestor since she was a young girl. As the years passed by and their relationship matured, it was assumed by all who knew them they would eventually marry.

Robert makes a decision to join the British cavalry to assist in the fight against Napoleon. While attending a ball the night before he leaves, Robert observes his best friend Justin Wexley, Marquess of Rockton, speaking to Selina. They both appear to gaze longingly into each other’s eyes while they talk. Robert assumes they are in love with each other. Later that night, he informs Selina that she is released from any expectations of marriage with him.

Invited to spend the Christmas holidays with her parents at his family’s estate, Selina agrees to attend believing Robert is still stationed with his cavalry in Brussels. Upon entering the kitchen with her maid for a late night meal, she unexpectedly encounters Robert.

Will Robert come to realize he made a very unfortunate conjecture about his friend and Selina? Can Selina forgive Robert for the heartache and pain she has lived with since he set her free and went away to battle? The true strength of their love for one another is put to the test in this holiday story.

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Excerpt

Chapter One

December 23, 1815

“Ellie! Miss Worth! Please wake up!”

“What…what? Whatever is the matter, my lady?”

“I’m famished. I can’t sleep. My stomach is growling like an angry bear with a bee in its ear! You need to accompany me to the kitchen.”

9781419993367_p0_v1_s260x420Miss Worth yawned loudly and then looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, my lady. We were traveling all day to get here and I ate a huge meal in the servants’ quarters this evening. I’m plumb exhausted as well as stuffed. Are you sure you’re hungry, my lady?”

Selina walked back into her own room and reached for her wrapper. She tied it securely at her waist and thrust her feet into the slippers that were on the floor near the bed. “You know what has happened lately whenever I go to balls or parties and I have to sit at a table and eat food surrounded by people I don’t know. I get nervous. I worry someone will ask me a question just as I take a mouthful of meat. Or a piece of cabbage will get stuck in my teeth and it will shine like a green beacon for everyone to see when I smile. I end up taking a few small bite before the hostess rises from her seat and announces it is time for the women to leave the gentlemen to their brandy and cigars. Such a thing occurred tonight.”

Miss Worth sat up in her cot and frowned at Selina from the connecting room. “But, my lady, Lord and Lady Dunstable have been friends of your parents since before you were born. And you’ve known Lord Rockton for many years. Surely you have no trouble eating a meal around them?”

Selina began pacing across the carpet that lay in front of the hearth. She needed some sort of activity to keep her mind off her hunger pains while she waited for Ellie to get ready. “Of course I don’t. But several new acquaintances are joining us here for the holidays. A Lord John Bartley, his sisters, Miss Bartley and Miss Francis Bartley and Lord Bartley’s friend, Sir William Elsmere. They were all at the table this evening.”

Miss Worth struggled to her feet and trust her arms into her wrapper. “Oh yes. I believe I heard the butler mentioning the arrival of more guests. He seemed very upset that Lord Crestor hadn’t made an appearance, my lady.”

“Robert…um, Lord Crestor? He is busy with the Cavalry Brigade in Brussels. He can’t make time to be with us now.” Selina stopped pacing and frowned down at the glowing bits of coal in the hearth.

“But, my lady, Napoleon is safely imprisoned on Saint Helena. Surely Lord Crestor could take some time away from his duties to be here for the holidays?”

“You seem unduly concerned by his absence, Ellie.” Selina raised her eyebrows as she looked at her maid.

“I’m the one who dried your tears after he left, my lady. I know how much you love him.”

“Yes, well, Lord Crestor made it perfectly clear that any thoughts of affection I might have had were misplaced when he released me from any prior claim to him just before he left to join his regiment in April.”

“My lady, you know that he hadn’t formally asked for your hand. He wanted you to be free in case he should be killed in battle.”

“We’ve been over this before, Ellie. He obviously didn’t care for me as much as I did for him.” Selina forced a smile upon her face and picked up the lighted taper on the bedside table. “Come, my mouth is watering when I think of the roasted quail and apple tarts that are taking up space in the larder this very moment.”

They made their way down the stairs, through the darkened entryway and tiptoed past the housekeeper’s quarters at the back of the house until they reached the door leading to the kitchen. Selina put a shaky hand against the frame as a loud rumble of hunger omitted from her stomach once again. Without further ado, she turned the knob and entered the room.

“Selina…um, Lady Selina? Is that you?”

Her hand trembled and the candle wavered as she heard the sound of the deep, soothing voice of the man she had known and loved since childhood. She raised the candle and focused her gaze on the figure that had risen from the nearby table. She stifled a gasp when she saw him clearly. He had lost a considerable amount of weight in the months since he had gone away to battle. His black hair was still thick and wavy, brushed back off his forehead. But his cheek bones seemed more pronounced and prominent on his face. He had taken off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair. His cravat was untied and his white linen shirt hung loosely across his chest. As she looked into his hazel eyes, she had the impression that he was holding himself in check-hiding something from her. “Robert? Uh, Lord Crestor? I thought you were still in Brussels.”

Susana Says

SusanaSays3…sweet and light holiday romance: 4/5 stars

Can a gentleman be too honorable?

Robert believes his betrothed is in love with his best friend, so he releases her from the relationship before he takes off for the war on the Continent.

Selena is left heartbroken when her betrothed gives her the freedom he believes she wants and then takes off for war.

Now he is back for Christmas with his family and a party of friends that includes Selena and the man he thinks she loves. He doesn’t understand why they have not married after so much time has passed, and besides, show no partiality for each other even now.

Cute love story set among English holiday traditions and culinary delights. Short enough to finish at one setting. Enjoy!

About the Author

author_photoCynthia Moore is a native Southern California girl. At a very early age, she discovered her local library and the exciting potential of escaping the real world inside the pages of a good book. In her early teens, she became a fan of British literature. After reading most of the Victorian classics, Cynthia found English Regency romance novels in 1987. It was love at first read. Since her chance introduction to this wonderful era, Cynthia has read over three thousand fiction novels and she maintains a large collection of research books on the period. She is extremely proud to be able to say she has several published novels taking place during the English Regency.

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

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

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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