Bluestocking Belles

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“The Angel’s Announcement” in Merry Belles

The Angel’s Announcement, a Holiday Homicide by Caroline Warfield

They found the shepherd eight days before Christmas. Dead. Sybilla and Seth have a week to solve it. Will they heal the hurt that lies between them?

Sybilla Somer was seventeen when Seth Caulfield disappeared without a word. For nine long years she wondered why. Now he’s back and she needs his help to solve a murder. There is no one else to do it. 

Seth hadn’t been much older when Sibby’s father and brother drove him out with shouts of “bloody presuming bastard.” They delivered him to press gangs in Great Yarmouth. He assumed she knew. She didn’t, and she certainly didn’t care that his birth was irregular. The navy set him to helping the ship’s surgeon, a stroke of luck. He has returned a warranted surgeon himself.

When Sybilla and Seth are thrown together to solve the murder, to care for a small angel with a broken ankle — and to face the hurt between them, will the work and the season heal what lies between them?

Meet Sybilla

With her father dead, her worthless brother now viscount, and the big house rented out to uncaring tenants, the estate and half the shire relies on Sybilla Somer the spinster daughter for care and leadership. She loved a man once, but he left her. Now she is on her own. At least she was until Seth reappeared.

Meet Seth

Seth Caulfield always knew he was a bastard. The woman he loved, though far above his touch, never cared. When her father separated them ruthlessly, he spent nine years in His Majesty’s navy. He didn’t expect to become a surgeon, to receive a bequest in his sire’s scandalous will, or to discover that he was one of the notorious Clarion bastards. Memories—and hope—drew him home.

Excerpt from The Angel’s Announcement

“Why did you come back?” Sibby demanded. She had asked him that three times now. He choked on an answer and filled her bowl with stew. Hungry as she was, she licked her lips and stared at it, sending a frisson of desire through him.

This isn’t the time for that, Caulfield.

“Slice that bread, if you please, Sibby. There’s a bigger question than the one you asked.”

She did as she was asked, her brow drawn up in a question. She didn’t speak.

“You never asked me why I left. Maybe we should start there.” He accepted a plate with slices of warm bread she had slathered with butter. It ought to be delicious, but he had never felt less like eating in his life. Considering some of the things he had endured, that was saying much.

Sibby waved her spoon in the air. “You disappeared. I went to the fishing shack the afternoon after the one when we, erm, enjoyed each other, expecting to see you, but you never came.”

Her face and tone made it a bald accusation of desertion. They had been young, so very young. Seth opened his mouth and closed it again.

“All right, then why. Why did you disappear without a word, and why did you reappear?” She put her spoon down and glared.

“Why not ask your brother?” he retorted.

“Samuel? What does he have to do with it?”

“You really don’t know?”

Suspicion flooded her expression. “Tell me,” she whispered.

He sank against the back of his chair. “I went to Somerton Hall to ask your father’s permission to marry you.”

“You felt honor bound.” Sibby didn’t appear pleased by that notion.

“I loved you desperately,” he shouted and drew in breath to calm himself. “I wanted you so badly I went, hat in hand, like a damned fool and offered to marry a viscount’s daughter and live with her over a store.” He shook his head at the innocent he’d been.

“He threw you out, and you ran. I’d have run with you if you had asked.” More accusation laced with hurt echoed in the words.

“Oh no. Your father was shrewder than that. He knew you were young and obstinate enough to try it. He beat me with a horse whip and turned me over to Samuel.”

“Samuel? My brother always resented you. You were smarter than he for one thing. Did he beat you as well?”

Seth grunted. “Samuel and the stable master were none too gentle when they hogtied me, bound me over a horse, and took me to Great Yarmouth. They gave me to a press gang.”

Sibby blinked, and her chin quivered. “Press gang? Forced into the navy?” She put her serviette on the table and swallowed. “No one told me.”

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Spotlight on “Forever Hold Your Peace” in Merry Belles

Forever Hold Your Peace, by Rue Allyn

Home from the wars, Captain Prescott Drake is shocked to learn that his fiancée plans to wed someone else. Can he reach her in time to prevent the nuptials? Will she want him, or has their treasured love died the slow death he nearly suffered in a French prison?

Desperate and believing the man she loved is dead, Miss Elizabeth Feddleston seeks rescue in the form of marriage to a kind friend. He knows she does not love him now but has hopes that once she has mourned the man who first won her heart that she will turn to him.

Meet Prescott Drake

Ensign Prescott Aelfwyn Drake, only son of an obscure country baron answered his country’s call to arms. What good was the comfortable life of a baron, if Boney ruled the world with his iron fist. Prescott had been on leave before receiving his first orders when a friend invited him to a local assembly. There Prescott met the woman of his dreams. He knew the charming Miss Elizabeth Eloise Feddleston was meant for him. Lacking in fortune, her stellar reputation and innate kindness were far more important to him. On the night before he was to leave to join his regiment he proposed. She accepted and they planned to wed as soon as Boney was defeated and Prescott could resign his commission.

Meet Elizabeth Feddleston

Miss Elizabeth Eloise Feddleston had expected to marry for convenience. Betts was the daughter of a widowed country squire, whose gambling losses had devastated the family. From the age of eight she’d managed the household and raised her twin siblings. The local vicar had helped where he could. Her father passed shortly after she reached her majority. His heir was a self-righteous, penny-pincing bigot who at their first meeting informed her she would marry as he pleased or be thrown from the house. Her siblings would be sent to a school for orphans sponsored by the religious sect he favored. She’d sought refuge with highly placed friends who offered shelter and safety for both her and the twins. Under a duke’s protection she attended her first assembly and fell in love.

An excerpt from Forever Hold Your Peace

A treasured locket open in her hands, Miss Elizabeth Eloise Feddleston sat by the window of the elegant sitting room—part of the suite assigned her at Leigh Chase. She stroked the pad of one thumb across the miniature within.

The handsome soldier depicted stared out at her with an intent moss-green gaze. His square chin framed a generous mouth. The resolute set of his broad shoulders spoke of the strength of his courage and determination. Captain Prescott Aelfwyn Drake had given her the locket as a remembrance on the day she accepted his proposal of marriage. A marriage that would never be, for darling Prescott was dead.

Betts sniffled back a tear. She had cried too much already. ‘Twas past time to lay Prescott and his memory to rest.

Outside the December day was gloomy and drear, entirely too close a match to her thoughts. The wind howled as it battled with the branches of the trees which more often than not fell to the snow, ice and cold of the windy assault. In Betts’ heart, fear and worry did battle with her every attempt at the calm control she relied on to deal with disasters big and small, since the day of her mother’s passing. That had been sixteen years ago. She’d been seven when she’d made her way from the nursery to her father’s study and found him mumbling into a glass, which she later learned was Scotch whisky. Strathnaver’s best—nothing but the best for Squire Feddleston, regardless of what economies were necessary to acquire said best.

“London gentlemen won’t respect a man who wears shoddy clothes, serves second rate whisky, rides ill-bred hacks…” the list went on.”

She pushed painful memories aside and tried to concentrate on the future. Tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing. The only thing. To save her brother and sisters from soul-killing lives planned by their cousin and new guardian, marrying Sir Tellus Leigh was the right thing, the only thing.

In a few short weeks, on Christmas Day, she would be married. Not to Prescott, the man of her dreams, but to a kind, warm, generous man, a friend who deserved better than the half measure of love that had been all she could promise him in exchange for the protection he offered her and her family.

She knuckled away a second tear. It should have been Prescott standing beside her in the church. However, Prescott Drake was dead, as were all of the dreams they had shared. In the wake of the news that he was missing presumed dead had come a string of disasters that had led her to this moment.

It was imperative she marry quickly. Her lips twitched with a failed smile. No, she wasn’t enceinte. It was her siblings’ welfare that necessitated her quick nuptials.

 

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Spotlight on “Single Belles” in Merry Belles

Single Belles, by Elizabeth Donne

For Violet Hughes, this Christmas does not ring in a season of good cheer. One friend betrays her confidence, telling a certain gentleman Violet has feelings for him, while another begins her own bold pursuit of the very same gentleman. Despite being determined to fight for what she wants, Violet is thwarted deliberately at every turn. Someone among the single belles is her secret enemy. Surely it’s not her best friend, her infamous pranks suddenly taking a darker turn? Whomever it is, Violet will have to foil their plot to make her Yuletide wish come true.

Meet Violet

Violet Hughes, a serious-minded young woman, has tolerated the pranks of her best friend for years until they begin to interfere with Violet’s growing feelings for Victor Blayne.

Meet Victor

Victor Blayne, a sterling fellow and heir to the Blaynes’ estate at Hamptonlea House, has enjoyed the close and comfortable friendship of Violet Hughes since childhood. This Christmas, however, his decision to take a wife might very well change that.

Excerpt from Single Belles

“It’s not too late, you know.” Her brother pressed on. “At present, she is fascinating merely because she brings talk of new adventures. When that novelty wears off, she will become like the rest of us. But if she endears herself to him in these early days, he will never realize how ordinary she is.”

Violet’s mouth fell open. “You think she is ordinary? Come now, Donovan, Pearl is so much more than that. Her beauty, the way she carries herself…”

“Are all learned,” he finished for her. “Do you think a man cares for these things when looking for a wife?”

“Why, certainly I do! You show me a man for whom beauty and poise are not attractive elements. I will not believe it unless I see it with my own eyes.”

“Elements, yes, dear sister, but not the essence of what he looks for. If Pearl had remained here with us, she would have nothing to offer him now. You and Victor, on the other hand, have always been kindred spirits. Take your love of riding, for example. The two of you are like centaurs, at one with your steeds. I cannot imagine Victor happy with a wife who is unable to ride with the same passion he does.”

Violet fell silent at these words. There was so much of her kinship with Victor that she had simply taken for granted. It had formed organically over their entire lives, and she had never questioned it. Their closeness just was. She hadn’t really considered how enviably comfortable they were with each other. It would certainly be a sound foundation for a life together. Goodness, some marriages never reached such solid connection, only enduring years of dull co-existence.

What had she been thinking, handing it all over politely to Pearl Thompson as if she had no claim of her own? She wouldn’t just be losing the chance to be with Victor. She would lose the freedom they had to ride like two spirits unleashed. No more walking on his arm in the garden, talking of constellations, or lying side-by-side on the lawn, watching as clouds drifted by and trying to outdo each other for the most obscure image the floating shapes conjured up.

If he married someone else, he would have to be respectable. The dynamic in the group would shift. Their friendship would become a shadow-version of its former self.

Fear gripped Violet’s heart with fingers that squeezed until she gasped aloud.

“Are you alright?” her brother asked.

“I… I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

Donovan considered her in silence. Then, as if reaching a conclusion, he nodded his head slowly and smiled with satisfaction. “You understand at last. Good. Now, what are you going to do about it?”

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Spotlight on “Mistletoe and Midnight Wishes” in Merry Belles

Mistletoe & Midnight Wishes

By Sherry Ewing

Can the magic of a midnight wish dispel the dark clouds of the past?

Mr. Joseph Morledge has taken on an almost impossible task. He has purchased the manor house that came to his family in his mother’s dowry. But his father’s deeds have left it haunted with memories best forgotten. Determined to fully renovate the house and reclaim the future, he sets Christmas as his target. But the woman he has long held in his heart has plans of her own.

For more years than she can count, Miss Charlotte Darby has hidden her feelings for Joseph Morledge, her brother’s best friend. Some untold code of honor between men has made him keep her distance. But when the opportunity comes to help him redecorate his house, she won’t take no for an answer.

As Joseph and Charlotte work to remake the manor into the home it should be, Joseph begins to realize that his house will not be a home without Charlotte as his wife. Has he left it too late to declare his love? Or will mistletoe and midnight wishes work their magic?

Preorder for December 20th: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/merry-belles/

Meet Charlotte

For more years than she can count, Miss Charlotte Darby has hidden her feelings for Joseph Morledge, her brother’s best friend. Some untold code of honor between men has made him keep her distance. But when the opportunity comes to help him redecorate his house, she won’t take no for an answer.

Meet Joseph

Mr. Joseph Morledge has taken on an almost impossible task. He has purchased the manor house that came to his family in his mother’s dowry. But his father’s deeds have left it haunted with memories best forgotten. Determined to fully renovate the house and reclaim the future, he sets Christmas as his target.

Excerpt from Mistletoe and Midnight Wishes

Still… he always kept Charlotte at a distance, since she was his best friend’s sister which by an undeclared gentleman code of honor made Joseph feel she should be off limits. And then there were Michael’s feelings for the lady. He could never act against his brother’s possible happiness even if it cost Joseph his own.

Her hand came to rest on his arm. “You’re lost in thought, Joseph. Are you sure this was a good idea?” she asked softly.

“Everyone keeps asking me that and it’s the same thing I’m beginning to question. But the answer remains the same. The deal is done and the manor is once again with my family,” Joseph stated, as he began ushering her from the house. “I would prefer if you don’t come inside. I’d rather you see the place once the renovations are complete.”

“But we came to help, didn’t we, Garrett,” she replied, as they met her brother outside.

“Any way we can,” Garrett said, slapping Joseph on his back.

“And I appreciate your offer but I’ve got this in hand,” Joseph answered, even as a wagon began making its way up the drive. “Besides, won’t you be busy with your charge this summer?”

Charlotte waved her hand in the air. “Lola and her father the Earl of Stanhope are off on an extended holiday together. Father, daughter time I suppose.”

Garrett chuckled. “The earl will have his hands full without Charlotte as the girl’s governess, and only a nanny to help him manage the child for the summer.”

“Lola won’t need lessons in reading and writing or any of the other academic studies I have planned for her upon their return,” Charlotte answered. “So, you see, Joseph. We have more than ample time to help you in any way we can lend assistance.”

“We can discuss this more at a later date. First, I need to access the manor and voice my plans with the workmen for the refurbishment. Garrett, we can talk later about how you might help. Charlotte will need to abide by my wishes.” Joseph watched as Charlotte took on a look that said an argument was forthcoming.

“Really, Joseph, I am not some delicate flower that cannot withstand a bit of hard work. Why, I’ll have you know—”

“Charlotte!” Michael’s voice called from the doorway as he hurried to reach her side. “How wonderful to see you… and Garrett, too.” Michael beamed staring at the young lady who was of the same age.

The adoration his brother felt for Charlotte was more than evident, and Joseph stepped back as he always did. But he did not miss the brief glance the lady bestowed upon him, causing his heart to flip end over end in his chest. Joseph wasn’t sure if he imagined the whole encounter but he kept the memory in his heart until their paths would cross again.

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Spotlight on “My Gift to You” in Love’s Perilous Road

My Gift to You

By Mary Lancaster

A rocky marriage and too many secrets…

The young Marchioness of Corey comes from a family of expensive rakehells. The world knows she married the marquis for his money – a conclusion Corey reached the day after their wedding.

Only, it was never true…

Attending the Normanton House party, each hopes for happiness. Only her wretched family gets in the way again, as does the local highwayman, and it seems their secret love is perpetually doomed… 

Buy now in Love’s Perilous Road: https://books2read.com/u/mqx0W6

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An Excerpt from My Gift to You

Gaby enjoyed the journey to Normanton more than she had enjoyed anything since her wedding night. They talked of his Bill, of his parliamentary allies and enemies, and how to change the minds of the latter. The discussion was not without humor and their laughter led them down lighter roads. 

Their al fresco breakfast brought them physically closer. Her heart leapt foolishly at every accidental touch, and she did not move away. Neither did he. Gaby was enchanted, for that secret smile was back in his eyes. She loved his dry, subtle humor that was rarely unkind. During their brief courtship between betrothal and marriage, this had been a revelation to her who had grown among loud, jeering people focused entirely on their own pleasure.

Once, when they were discussing the entertainments likely to be on offer at the party, she said lightly, “The rubies are even more beautiful than I expected. Thank you for trusting me with the family treasure.”

He looked for the jest, of course, and she didn’t blame him. She had used flippancy as protective armor too often. 

“I mean it,” she said ruefully.

“They’re more than family treasure. They are my gift to you.”

Pleasure brought a flush to her face. Impulsively, she touched her cheek to his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. Then, afraid he would dislike such a demonstration, she straightened. “Should I save them for the grand ball?” she wondered. “Or tease the company with a few pieces beforehand?”

“Whatever amuses you.”

She was actually sorry to arrive at Normanton House, a large and gracious property, but the excitement stayed with her. She could swear this new friendliness was not mere politeness on his part. He did seem to genuinely like her still.

Which begged the question, why had he drawn away from her after that first night? Had she disappointed him so badly in bed? Or in other ways?

It doesn’t matter, as long as we are truly together now…

They arrived late in the afternoon, and both host and hostess greeted them warmly.

“Welcome to Normanton House,” Lady Sommerville cried. “I quite feel you have handed us the coup of the year by your presence.”

“I trust your journey was unremarkable?” Sir Peter added. “We’ve had bother with a highwayman on the Brighton roads.”

“Really?” Gaby was almost disappointed to have been spared such excitement until she realized that such a miscreant would almost certainly have stolen the Corey rubies. And the pearls.

“I expect your outriders made him think twice,” Sir Peter said with approval. 

“Come, I’ll show to your rooms,” Lady Sommerville said. “Where you may rest in comfort before tea, when you will meet all our other guests. I do hope you will be comfortable…”

Gaby had been sure that in a house so full of guests, she and her husband would share a bedchamber. But she had reckoned without their rank. The marquis and marchioness were given their own rooms, each with a sitting room.

Just like at home, they had no need ever to meet except in company.

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Stolen Kisses in Love’s Perilous Road

STOLEN KISSES by Cerise DeLand

When Lance Winters first kissed Emma Tomkins pretending to be a highwayman years ago, she was ruined. 

But things have changed. Now she has a fortune—and she’s determined to live as she wishes. Alone.

As a captain in the Army, Lancelot Winters never had the means to claim Emma as his wife. But he vowed one day he would return for her.

Now the war is over. With a title and an estate, he plans to make her laugh again. And love him again.

So he disguises himself as a highwayman and tracks Emma in her carriage. Then he grabs her off the coach—and in front of other passengers, he kisses her.

Oh, yes. She remembers his lips. His rakish charm. But he ruined her once and she’s determined it won’t happen again.

But the man is persistent, showing up to court her everywhere! Suddenly, Lance can’t live without her. And she can’t imagine marrying anyone else.

Their biggest problem?

A Bow Street Runner comes looking for the highwayman who troubles the countryside.

An Excerpt from Stolen Kisses

Lance cocked an ear. A coachman’s crack of whip and the grinding of wheels signaled his darling came near in her coach to Brighton.

“I saw you climb in this morning,” he murmured to himself. “I doubt you’ve stayed in Crowley.”

He had seen her and her cousin Diana climb down for a respite at the carriage inn when the coach stopped. But he had not waited for Emma or Diana to get back inside. He’d spurred his horse on to the bend in the road. Here he had waited patiently to demonstrate to his beloved that time had not destroyed his love of her. And that the ton could go hang by their own silly rules.

He was here, standing and delivering like a true highwayman that love and laughter went hand in hand—and he’d give it to her from this day forward.

From his vantage point, he saw the dust cloud billow above the hedgerow—and at once, there was the coach, fast on approach.

He put up his half mask and brandished his wooden pistol. Then he charged forward.

Headed straight for the carriage, he halted a hundred yards or so from view and encouraged his horse to paw the air. He’d even asked the groom where he’d rented the horse if the animal could and would do that on command. He did now….and Lance grinned at the image he must make. A black horse, large and rearing, upon which sat a large man in black, his face half concealed by his black scarf.

“Halt! Halt, I say!” He shouted as the coachman slowed his horses and came to an idle, then stopped.

The fellow stood in the box. “What ho, sir? Ye don’t want to hurt us, nay!”

“Order your passengers out.”

The man sank to his seat. “No!”

“I say…” Lance waved his replica of a fine pistol. “Tell them to come out.”

The man turned and yelled towards the cab.

In the window, Lance saw Emma’s face. At first she was bewildered, then frightened. But now, as the coachman left his perch and jumped down to open the door, she met Lance’s gaze and her fear went to shock, then to recognition.

She took the coachman’s hand, climbed down and approached Lance. “Why do this?”

He met her and let his horse dance around her. “You know why.”

“No. I am at a loss.”

“How many in the carriage?” He knew she’d be concerned about gossip of this, but in Crawley he’d seen the other passenger. The woman was young, pretty—and already tipsy when she joined Emma and Diana in the coach.

“Only three,” shouted Diana from the window. “My cousin, me and Miss Frobisher, Mister Highwayman, sir. And …um…sir? Miss Frobisher is very frightened.” But by the grin spreading across Diana’s glowing features, Lance could tell the girl enjoying this tremendously.

“Tell Miss Frobisher, she need fear no one.” He walked his horse nearer Emma. “Certainly not me,” he crooned as he slid to his feet, removed his mask and took Emma in his arms to put his lips to hers.

Willing, pliant in his embrace, she allowed him his kiss. Long and soft, intrusive at the end, but quickly satisfying, his capture of her mouth was just as he had hoped.

“Why?” she asked him, dazed, as he pulled away.

“Because you need surprise and laughter.”

Her arms, tight around his neck, she sank her fingers into the wealth of his silky hair at his nape. “Why could you not wait and do this properly?”

“In a ballroom? Or church?”

He took her lips once more, a leisurely claim of reassurance. “I’ll do that too. And soon. But I wanted you to remember and value what had happened that day.”

“Oh, I do recall every moment.”

“That I kissed you?”

“Thoroughly.”

“That I told you I loved you?”

“Unforgettably.”

“And that if I ever had the means, I would return for you and carry you away to happiness….and marriage.”

“Oh, yes, such a declaration a woman never forgets.”

“I renew it all now, my darling.”

It was then Lance felt the barrel of a rifle in the small of his back.

“Ye’ll take yer hands off the lady.”

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Courtship in WIP Wednesday

In this excerpt, taken from my novella Maggie’s Wheelbarrow, Maggie is talking about what happened after her sergeant father died, when the officer said she must marry or go back to England

“The soldiers who didn’t have a wife began to bring me presents and ask me to marry them. All except the one I wanted. Corporal Will Parker watched me from afar, and I waited for him, but he didn’t come. Then our officer told me that I had to choose or I had to leave, for half of the bachelors were squabbling over who had my favor, and the other half were writing poetry or picking flowers, and not a single one of them was remembering we were meant to be fighting the French.”

She chuckled, and the ladies giggled with her. “I was still waiting for Corporal Parker, but my time had run out. So, I picked a bunch of wildflowers and took it to him. I told him I was a good cook, an excellent seamstress, a competent laundress and would make him a faithful wife, but he need not count on me for any poetry, for I was a practical soldier’s daughter.”

Her hands stilled as she remembered his shocked expression and how it changed to dawning delight. Half lost in the dream of that day, she finished her story. “He said he had always wanted to marry me, but he never thought he had a chance. We went to find the chaplain, and were married that very day. And we had more than a year together before we were separated. Happy, even if there was a war on, because we were together. I loved him, and he loved me.”

For more, preorder Merry Belles, due for publication on December 20th.

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“A Duke in Peril” in Love’s Perilous Road

A Duke in Peril by Meara Platt

Lady Florence Swann’s quiet life is upended when she finds a handsome soldier wounded on the side of the road near the country estate where she and her grandfather reside. Captain James Ryder claims to be the Duke of Wellbourne’s emissary and carries a letter concerning a Foreign Office matter. Is he more than he appears, and perhaps the duke himself? Does Florence dare trust her heart to him? 

Meet Florence

Lady Florence Swann has lived a quiet and contented life with her grandfather on his estate, until she finds a wounded soldier on the side of the road and knows she must save him. But she hadn’t expected to be so drawn to this handsome man she knows to be harboring secrets. Does she dare trust him with her heart?

Meet James

James Ryder is on a secret mission to draw out a traitor. He also happens to be the Duke of Wellbourne, but he dares not reveal his true identity to Lady Florence Swann, the ministering angel who saved his life when the traitor and his cohorts attempted to stop him. Once his mission is completed, he fully intends to reveal the truth to Florence and ask her to marry him. But first, he must keep her out of danger while he sets about unmasking the traitor.

An Extract from A Duke in Peril

The man’s eyes flickered open to stare at her.

Her breath hitched, for his eyes were extraordinarily beautiful, a magnificent, dark gray. Quite splendid…and dangerous. “You’re awake.”

He drew her even closer, as though to whisper something in her ear.

But instead of talking, he captured her mouth in a scorching kiss that lasted no more than the count of three.

Dear heaven.

It was enough to mark her soul.

He released her with a groan and sank back onto her lap. “Who are you, lass?”

Lass?

She was a lady and almost the age of three and twenty.

“Lady Florence Swann,” she said stiffly. “Something you might have bothered to find out before you kissed me.”

His chuckle was deep and resonant. “Do not berate me, Florence.”

Ugh.

Why was he being so familiar with her?

It was bad enough he’d kissed her, but to now address her as though they had been lifelong friends?

Sighing, she decided not to chastise him since he was not well and the damage had already been done. “Why did you kiss me, sir?”

“It was most improper, I know. But should I not be permitted to kiss my angel?”

She laughed. “Oh, I hardly think I am that.”

“You are an angel, Florence. Mine,” he insisted, taking hold of her hand as it rested on his chest.

Honestly, if he knew her better, he would not be calling her anyone’s angel.

Much less his.

Nor should he be holding onto her hand.

In truth, it felt awfully nice even though his palm was rough and his knuckles were bruised and swollen.

She meant to protest but never got the chance, for the man had gone limp in her arms again.

Her grandfather threw open the carriage door and stared at the big fellow lying motionless in her embrace.

“Hello, Grandfather.”

“Oh, Florence. What mischief have you got into this time?”

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“One Good Wager Leads to Another” in Love’s Perilous Road

A young widow escaping her controlling father. A former spy in disguise. And a long-ago but never-forgotten kiss.

Thisbe Rose moves into the haunted cottage she inherited from her soldier husband. She’s not afraid of ghosts, nor is she worried about smugglers and highwaymen—but she’s not so sure about the very odd housekeeper who’s already there.

Gervaise Transom returns from years as a spy with no taste for society, and wagers a friend he can spend six months in disguise without getting caught. When Thisbe moves into the cottage, he knows he should leave, to protect her reputation—but he also must stay to keep her safe.

Not only that, he’s sure he met her once years ago…

Meet Thisbe

Widowed Thisbe Rose leaves her controlling father to live in the cottage she inherited. She’s not afraid of smugglers, highwaymen, or ghosts, and is determined to make it on her own. But something strange is going on in the cottage—which has the oddest housekeeper she has ever met.

Meet Gervaise

Gervaise Transom spied for England, the country of his ancestors, against France, the country of his other ancestors, and now he’s torn up inside. He avoids family and society by accepting a wager with his best friend that he can spend six months disguised as a woman without being caught. 

An excerpt from One Good Wager Deserves Another

Thisbe sat up, heart thumping. She knew where the sound had come from—the squeaky board in the room above her bedchamber. Annoyed, she turned up the lamp, slid out of bed, and donned her robe and slippers. She lit a candle and followed Eddie’s ghost to the door.

The gallery was in darkness, save for a faint light from the windows. She crept toward the staircase. No light showed either below or above. She must have been mistaken. Old houses did creak sometimes in the night, so why was Eddie pestering her?

The ghost pointed upward and made a shooing motion, urging her to take the stairs.

She balked. Ghosts didn’t understand human fears, since earthly danger didn’t affect them anymore. Who could possibly be up there? And why? Surely for something underhanded and perhaps dangerous!

Eddie rolled his spectral eyes—an unpleasant sight—and made an even more urgent motion with his hand, mouthing, “Hurry!”

She could ignore him, but he might have a good reason for wishing her to investigate that sound. She couldn’t afford to succumb to anxiety. No hesitation, she told herself. This was her house. She had every right to know what was going on.

She picked up another candlestick—the closest she could find to a weapon—and trod firmly up the stairs. Let the intruder hear her approach and tremble.

Unfortunately, there was no response from above, trembling or otherwise. Nothing but a nod and a grin from Eddie.

Thisbe trod gamely upward. Just as she expected, a flicker of light showed beneath the door of the garret above her bedchamber.

She thrust the door open. “What in heaven’s name is—”

A female figure by the window tossed a brief glance at Thisbe and said, “Hush!” Then she opened her mouth wide and let out a wail that would drown out a banshee.

It was Mrs. Wix, the housekeeper, wrapped in a heavy cloak with a hood obscuring most of her face. She proceeded to open and close the shutters of a lantern several times. Eddie’s ghost stood next to her, looking mighty pleased with himself.

“How dare you order me to hush!” Thisbe said, but in a softer voice. “This is my house, my garret, and you have no business being up here pretending to be a ghost!”

“I’ll explain in a minute,” the woman hissed, a finger to her lips, astonishing Thisbe so much that a furious retort died.

So much for respect for one’s betters. Not that Thisbe really believed that some people were better than others merely because of an accident of birth, but surely an employee should be polite to her employer—especially such an understanding one as herself.

Mrs. Wix continued opening and closing the lantern in a strange, rhythmic pattern. The air movement of the shutters, combined with the breeze from outdoors, wafted the scents of night and dead leaves, and closer by, horse and dirt. What had she been doing in the stable? The woman surely needed a bath.

Suddenly, Thisbe knew what was going on. “You’re signaling to smugglers!” 

“I am not.” Mrs. Wix glanced at her again with a wide, mischievous grin. “I’m signaling to the revenue men.”

by

Falling in love in WIP Wednesday

This is an excerpt from “A Bend in the Road”, my story in Love’s Perilous Road, which will be published October 31st. My newsletter story this month will be a little vignette of their meeting and their time in Brussels. In the scene, Justin has been wounded, and Felicity is reading out loud to him.

Justin was seduced anew by the magic of her melodic voice, with the laughing glances Felicity cast at him, inviting him to share her amusement at the florid text. Seduced by dreams he should not have. She had always enchanted him, from the moment he had first seen her on the deck of the yacht Sea Mist off the coast of some remote English village. The sling that had lifted her aboard had been caught by a rogue wave before it lifted beyond the sea’s reach. He was there to welcome aboard some earl’s sister, undoubtedly indignant at the wave’s lèse-majesté and ready to blame the nearest officer—him.

Then Felicity emerged from the sling, a laughing if somewhat drenched fairy, her golden hair sparkling in the sun, but not as much as her blue eyes, and he was her slave from that moment.

Each day in Felicity’s company had enraptured him more. On the sea voyage, he had tried hard to convince himself that she was a social butterfly, all glitter and glamour. But watching her smoothly take charge on the canal boat and the midpoint accommodation house dispelled that impression, and a few days in Brussels taught him she was a consummate hostess, a skilled politician, a stateswoman and—as he worked beside her in the make-shift hospital that received Waterloo casualties, a strong and compassionate woman.

He loved her, and living without her was living with a gaping hole where his heart should be.