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Tea with Ellie

Her grace is expecting a visitor from the future today. 1889! Oh my. All Eleanor knows about the girl is her name, Miss Eloise de Voss, that she has recently been in France, and that her story involves some misdirected letters.

And here is Miss de Voss, stepping through the parlour door.

“Miss De Voss,” the Duchess says, “welcome. I’m glad you were able to make time in your day for me. Would you like tea, my dear? Although I hear you have just returned from France. Perhaps, like the French, you prefer coffee?”

“Tea will be lovely, Your Grace. Thank you so much for your invitation.”

“What took you to France, dear? I loved Paris back when it was still safe for people like me to travel there–back before the revolution. I don’t know if you know what’s going on in our time, but we’re not currently on friendly terms with the French.”

Eloise nodded. Of course, as a well educated young woman, she must be aware of the long war with the French. Please God it would be over soon! “What took me to France? There was an event there in our time called the Exposition Universelle. I read about it months ago–it’s a kind of World Fair. And I was just so curious, I had to go. Though I admit, I hadn’t seen anything there to compare with that mechanism of yours that made your invitation arrive in my hands in 1889. We’ve heard so much about you, Your Grace, Mother and I simply couldn’t believe it.”

The Duchess of Haverford raises an eyebrow. “How kind of you, Miss De Voss. I have no idea how it works, I must say, but a young man of my acquaintance assured me it would work. Mind you, I suspect him of being a time traveller myself. My son and I have a great interest in supporting new ideas.”

The duchess pours tea into a delicate teacup with pink roses. “I must say, the style you’re wearing is interesting. Is that the style in your time? Why, there is enough fabric at your derriere for my seamstress to make three dresses!” She chuckles to show that she is joking.

Eloise laughed with her. “Why, bustles are all the rage back….I mean, in my day.” She smiles, “Your dress is fetching, Your Grace, but you’d look fabulous in a gown like mine. May I give you my seamstress’ –Oh.” Eloise looks around the parlor. “Perhaps her ancestress is in business now. I’m sure she’d be happy to accommodate you.”

And wouldn’t that set the gossips talking! Eleanor could just imagine the astonishment on the faces of people like Sally Jersey. “I’d be happy to meet her,” she said, a noncommital answer if ever there was one. “Miss De Voss, let us turn to a more important matter. Do you have a beau? Or, even more intriguing, did you find anyone in Paris worth bringing to the altar?”

Eloise chokes on her sip. “Your Grace!” Eloise picked up her napkin, wiped her mouth and wondered if she could fan herself discretely.

The duchess smiles over her teacup. “You didn’t answer the question, Miss De Voss.”

Eloise is blushing. “As a matter of fact, I do have someone of whom I’m fond, however, I met him before I left for Paris.”

Up goes the duchess’s eyebrow again. “And he didn’t convince you to stay home?”

“He had to visit Paris, as it happened.”

“Ah!” Eleanor’s smile broadened. “I was going to ask if anything exciting happened on your journey, but you’ve already answered my question.” Would the time device work both ways, she mused. “I will expect a wedding invitation, my girl.”

Eloise wonders what that look on the duchess’ face meant. “Er? You were saying?”

The Duchess of Haverford, though, was more interested in hearing about this someone of whom Eloise was fond. “Tell us about your beau. Is he handsome?”

Eloise sighs. “He is–though the first time I saw him, I didn’t think so.” Her cheeks heat and she dips her head, hoping some loose hair would hide her embarrassment.

The Duchess laughs “So the fellow is a beast to your beauty?”

“He’s just not what I think most people would think of as being as devastatingly handsome as a lord ought to be. But I lo–” she caught herself. “ Like him.”

A knowing smile graces the Duchess’ face. “What was that I heard, Miss De Voss?”

Eloise puts down her cup. “My mother’s calling me. I’m sure that’s what you heard, Your Grace.”

“Oh, then we shouldn’t keep your loved ones waiting. Especially the young man you mentioned?”

Miss Eloise De Voss is the heroine of Letters to Ellie (The Lost Slipper Society, book 2) by Juli D. Revezzo.

Letters to Ellie

London debutant Eloise fell in love with a foreign baron who returned to Luxembourg far too soon. Unfortunately, her heart is broken when their correspondence suddenly breaks off.

After a lowly maid, Ellie, begins receiving love letters from the Luxembourg baron, she doesn’t know what to think. She is so distracted by the possibilities, she cannot see a dear neighbor’s heartfelt devotion.

When the misdirected letters are discovered at long last, will either Ellie or Eloise find happiness–or has fate dealt them both a cruel blow?

Buy links: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DV532S1D

Letters to Ellie comes out February 5.


An excerpt from Letters to Ellie:

Winifred frowned. “Lord De Voss?”

Her father paused and peered down the table at her friend. “Yes, Miss Clankton?”

“Eloise is wondering something.”

All eyes turned on her. Somehow, thanks to their scrutiny, now didn’t seem the time. Not that what she wanted was particularly personal, but a sense of exposure crept over her. She couldn’t do it. So she only smiled. “Don’t forget, you promised me a dance.”

He reached for her hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.”

“She wonders about her gift,” said her brother, round-faced and chestnut-haired Jack. “I’ll bet that’s what troubles her.”

“As I said, dear, we’ll discuss it during our dance.” He squeezed her hand. “It’s a tradition we have, you see.”

“To teach our children the value of patience.” Her mother shot her a look.

Eloise cringed. “I failed at that today.”

Yes, asking right now was the wrong thing to do. Maybe your plan is a bit too ambitious. They surely won’t agree to it. Not when they had the bill for this party to consider. And your dress, and all the food.

Soon, they returned to the ballroom.

The first quadrille played and Eloise danced with a handsome gentleman. He had a fine fashion sense, if no color-sense–his coat was a dark brown with green stripes. They paused for a moment in their dance, and she found herself facing her father. He touched her cheek and stepped aside to continue his dance with the young man’s mother.

At the end of the set, Winifred approached her again. “Did I see you cross paths with your father? Did you ask him about Paris?”

Eloise drooped against a nearby oak pillar. “No. He’s far too distracted by the party and our guests. Besides, I’m not sure I should ask. He’ll say no, I’m sure of it.”

Winifred flinched backward. “My word!”

Something landed between them. “Are you all right?” Eloise peered at the floor. “What is that?”

Winifred picked it up. “It’s a pit of some sort.”

Eloise took it from her, sniffed. “It smells like plum.”

Meet Juli D. Revezzo

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Website: https://julidrevezzo.com/

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Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDP0TPb32YCWAEG6Q_Hiw7g

 

 

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Tea with Belinda Westcott

The Duchess of Haverford’s waiting salon might intimidate any young lady. Bel Westcott was terrified. After the fiasco at the duchess’s venetian breakfast two years ago caused by food prepared by her own hands, she had good reason.

“Calm down, Bel. She is both wise and kind. She knows it wasn’t your fault.” Bel’s best friend Merrilyn Finchwater, ever loyal, had been there when half the ton was sickened by food prepared in Bel’s kitchen.

Bel had her doubts.

Just then, the rather stern young woman who was Her Grace’s current secretary returned. “She will see you now.” It didn’t help that she cast Bel a sympathetic glance.

Regal and dignified, in subdued silk and simple pearls, the duchess yet radiated warmth and welcome from her high-backed chair. A fine porcelain tea set, bright white with delicate lavender flowers sat on the table at her side.

“Come sit with me ladies. It is good of you to join me.”

Bel murmured thanks. Her Grace requested their preferences and made certain to satisfy the polite requirements of tea service.

“I’ve quite looked forward to speaking with you for some time, Miss Westcott. What is it that troubles you?” the duchess said.

Bel’s head jerked up from her absorption in her own slippers to gaze directly at the duchess. “I— The venetian breakfast so humiliated me. All those people ill, and your fete ruined. I can barely face you.”

“My dear! That was two years ago. And I have reason to believe it was not your fault,” Her Grace said.

“Quite right, Your Grace. Bel would never,” Merrilyn said. “Her cousin—””

“Yes, yes, Lady Finchwater, I know. The not so Honorable Cecil Hartwell had his grubby hands all over it. My son Aldridge assured me that was the case and that the miscreant was dealt with,” the duchess said.

Bel stiffened her spine. “But I bear the stigma even now.”

Her Grace studied Bel carefully. “So you do. And that ridiculous nickname follows you. Westcott Menace. What nonsense. It has recently risen again among the gossips.”

“Untruths are spreading again, Your Grace,” Merrilyninterjected. “Lady Arncastle attended the house party at Hartwell Hall and has piled story on story.”

Both women looked to Bel. She nodded firmly. “Most of the stories Lady Arncastle spreads are untrue.”

“Most.” The duchess’s eyes twinkled. “But not all?”

Heat crept up Bel’s neck and burned her cheeks. “There was one thing. I…”

“Poisoned Lady Sophie Gilray?” The duchess asked, brow raised imperiously.

“Never!” Bel exclaimed. “That is, I may have tainted the cocoa but it wasn’t meant for my cousin Sophie. And John, well I was mistaken in him, and I thought—”

“You thought to get your own back for what happened two years ago.” The duchess completed the thought.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The duchess leaned forward and whispered “Good for you,” startling Bel right out of her attack of remorse. She sat back. “And I have reason to suspect things turned out well in the end.”

Merrily beamed and nudged Bel. “They certainly did. Tell her, Bel.”

Bel did better. She reached in her reticule and pulled out a card printed in formal letters, and invitation. She handed it to the duchess.

“Marriage to John Conlyn, Earl of Ridgemont! Oh well done, my dear. You may be certain I will attend.

Bel smiled then, confidently. Things truly had turned out well in the end.

Snowed by the Wallflower

By Caroline Warfield

Belinda Westcott doesn’t want to injure the Earl of Ridgemont. She merely wants to humiliate him. After all, one good prank deserves a payback. How could she anticipate that it would go so terribly wrong, or that he would turn out to be nothing like she expected?

Skilled in both chemistry and cooking, Belinda happily hides in her aunt’s kitchen rather than risk embarrassment at the ongoing house party. The unexpected appearance of the earl and a skating party present the perfect opportunity to embarrass him in front of some snooty society miss. Unfortunately, his partner is Belinda’s own cousin, and even worse, the cousin drinks the hot chocolate—laced with emetics—meant for the earl.

As plain Major John Conlyn, John had sunk into a morose of dissipation when first released from the army. Neither his actions nor his companions make him proud. The death of a beloved cousin shocked him back to sense. It also made him an earl and the heir to his grandfather, a duke. He’s been ordered to find a wife and settle down. He wouldn’t mind, but now he’s surrounded by flighty debutantes and their grasping mothers. The one woman who interests him avoids him. She acts as if she despises him. Is it possible he did something when out of control that he ought to apologize for, something he can’t recall?

https://books2read.com/snowedbywallflower

What happened at the Duchess of Haverford’s venetian breakfast? Be sure to read Jude Knight’s The Blossoming of the Wallflower to find out.

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Spotlight on Snowed by the Wallflower

Ever wondered what happened to Belinda Westcott after the debacle at the Duchess of Haverford’s garden party that appeared in my The Blossoming of the Wallflower? Then this is the book for you.

And it is, in any case, a Caroline Warfied, so you know it is going to be good!

Snowed by the Wallflower

An aggrieved Bluestocking takes revenge but misses her target. Is it possible she is also wrong about the man she loathes as well? Preorder for January 28 publication.

Belinda Westcott doesn’t want to injure the Earl of Ridgemont. She merely wants to humiliate him. After all, one good prank deserves a payback. How could she anticipate that it would go so terribly wrong, or that he would turn out to be nothing like she expected?

Skilled in both chemistry and cooking, Belinda happily hides in her aunt’s kitchen rather than risk embarrassment at the ongoing house party. The unexpected appearance of the earl and a skating party present the perfect opportunity to embarrass him in front of some snooty society miss. Unfortunately, his partner is Belinda’s cousin, and even worse, the cousin drinks the hot chocolate—laced with emetics—meant for the earl.

As plain Major John Conlyn, John had sunk into a morass of dissipation wen first released from the army. Neither his actions nor his companions make him proud. The death of a beloved cousin shocked him back to sense. It also made him an earl and the heir to his grandfather, a duke. He’s been ordered to find a wife and settle down. He wouldn’t mind, but now he’s surrounded by flighty debutantes and their grasping mothers. The one woman who interests him avoids him. She acts as if she despises him. Is it possible he did something when out of control that he ought to apologize for, something he can’t recall?

 

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Spotlight on Lord Appleby’s Gorgeous Imposter (Scarlet Affairs Book 3)

By Cerise DeLand

He’s the last man Viv wants to see.
Vivienne de Massé goes to Paris impersonating her oldest sister, the infamous Drury Lane actress, Charmaine Massey. Viv has a reason…and a plan to avenge the capture and death of their other sister during the Terror. Only one man can stop her.

Tate Cantrell is the only man who sees right through her.
Tate Cantrell bursts into her dressing room one night in Paris and calls Viv’s bluff. He reminds Viv she plays a role—and a dangerous game she cannot win alone.

He declares she needs him. She always has. Indeed, he’s spent the last decade helping the émigré Massé family—and falling in love with charming Viv. Now the Earl of Appleby, Tate works as a spy for Scarlett Hawthorne’s network on the Continent. He alone has the means and the connections to help her….if she’ll let him.

Haunted by their past, they’re desperate to save their future together… If they can survive those who would destroy them.

Read in Kindle Unlimited! Or buy from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CW1G3LRP

Scarlett Affairs
Book 1 – Lord Ashley’s Beautiful Alibi
Book 2 – Lord Ramsey’s Red-headed Ruin
Book 3 – Lord Appleby’s Gorgeous Imposter

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Spotlight on Marry Me, Marquis

Marry Me, Marquis

By Misty Urban

Desperate to avoid being forced into marriage, Leo Westrop offers his hand to Miss Lillian Gower, hoping that her antiquarian parents might smooth the way for his own archaeological dig. Lillian, a skilled illustrator, agrees to protect Leo from marriage-minded mamas in return for his help with her own publication. She’s too practical to expect the heir to a marquess would want anything more from her—but Leo turns out to be better company than she expected.

When Lillian offers Leo assistance on his expedition, their shared attraction turns into a passion that consumes them both. But with his family set against their union, what happens to their staged betrothal when feelings become all too real?

Excerpt:

“Miss Gower?” he said, and her name rang like a bell through the room.

A screech echoed in Lillian’s ears, and she hoped it wasn’t her making such a sound. She swallowed the pastille, a sour path scorching through her insides.

“I beg your pardon?”

He held her gaze steadily, and she saw his desperation writ clear. He was begging.

“Would you do me the honor—the very great honor—of accepting my suit?”

She stood frozen as he moved toward her and the crowd parted, their wondering eyes moving from him to her and back again. It was a large room, but he’d crossed it before Lillian could connect two thoughts together. All that filled her vision was the plea in his eyes.

“I’ve surprised you, I know.” He reached her. He was quite tall. He lifted her hand, sticky with the sugar coating of the pastille, and placed a kiss on the back of her glove. The print of his mouth scorched like a cooking fire.

“Miss Gower. I would have chosen more discreet circumstances, but now we all must know your answer. Will you knit your life to mine and make me the happiest of men?”

It was a trick. She saw it now. The teeth of the man trap were descending about him, and he wanted to bring her between him and descending annihilation. He was drowning, and she held the rope that could save him.

He squeezed her fingers. His grip was tight, yet oddly, he did not hurt her. It was a trap. If she stepped into the noose with him, everything she wanted for her future might disappear.

And yet, with him holding her, she was certain she would be safe.

She could read his eyes. Trust me. Help me, his eyes said.

That was her lot, was it not? Lillian the helper. Lillian the soother. Lillian the calm and steady. Lillian, the eye of the storm, who sacrificed what she needed so another might have their wish.

“Very well.” The words emerged a whisper around the pinch in her mouth. The knot in her stomach might never unravel. “Yes, Mr. Westrop, I suppose I’ll marry you.”

Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/Marry-Marquess-Ladies-Least-Likely-ebook/dp/B0DG31STYG/

Website: http://www.mistyurban.com

Elsewhere: https://linktr.ee/mistyurban

Meet Misty Urban

Misty Urban is a medieval scholar, freelance editor, and college professor who likes to write stories about misbehaving women who find adventure and romance. She lives in the Midwest in a little town on a big river, where she reads and writes in the company of one handsome park ranger, two young aspiring writers, and a rather heavy collection of books.

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Spotlight on Loving Lizzie Finn

Loving Lizzie Finn

By Tamara Hughes

Lizzie Finn grew up in a brothel, and she’s reminded of that fact every day. She dreams of finding a job and becoming independent. Only then can she be free of her aunt’s disdain. First, she must find an employer who won’t turn her away because of her past.

Byron Greeley is determined to save his family’s business after Lizzie’s uncle falsifies the amount Byron owes on a loan from the bank. Determined to find proof of Teague’s perfidy, Byron slips into the banker’s house and rummages through the study only to be discovered by Lizzie, a red-haired beauty who utterly captivates him.

Byron offers Lizzie a job in exchange for information about her uncle, and because she believes her uncle is innocent, she agrees. When Teague discovers Lizzie and Byron’s growing affection, he threatens to destroy Byron and his family, insisting Byron is exploiting her. Is Teague’s warning well-founded? Are Byron’s feelings for Lizzie true, or is Byron using her for his own gain?

US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DFMQ4X1H

UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Loving-Lizzie-Finn-Tamara-Hughes-ebook/dp/B0DFMQ4X1H

Excerpt from Loving Lizzie Finn

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re right on that count. I won’t let my aunt force me into anything I don’t want to do.”
He closed the distance between them. “If she gives you too much pressure, my offer still stands.”
“Your offer?”
He smiled. “You can always marry me.”
She smiled back and rolled her eyes. “My uncle would have no issue with that.”
“So what if he does?” In his heart, he wouldn’t marry anyone except Lizzie.
“Are you forgetting about the threat to your business?”
“Ah, yes, that does make things a bit more difficult. Our wedding will have to wait until after matters are settled with your uncle.”
She laughed. “Our wedding will have to wait?” She shook her head and strode closer, her gaze meeting his.
Was that challenge he saw in her eyes?
“Are you sure you want to brave all the gossip and censure that comes with me?”
When she would have moved away, he stopped her with his hands gently holding her arms. “As long as we’re together, I’d brave anything.” He grazed his lips along her cheek and felt her shiver.
The corner of her mouth curved upward. “Are you sure you know what you’re saying?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He cradled her head in his hand and angled her face toward his.

Meet Tamara Hughes

A small town girl with a big imagination, Tamara Hughes had no idea what to do with her life. After graduating from college, she moved to a big city, started a family and a job, and still struggled to find that creative outlet she craved. An avid reader of romance, she gave writing a try and became hooked on the power of exploring characters, envisioning adventures, and creating worlds. She enjoys stories with interesting twists and heroines who have the grit to surmount any obstacle, all without losing the ability to laugh. To learn more, stop by her website: www.tamarahughes.com.

You can also find her on:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/tamarahughesauth
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tamara-hughes
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/tamara.hughes2/
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/7738043.Tamara_Hughes
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/tamarahughes

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Spotlight on The Earl’s Bluestocking Bride

By Jayne Rivers

A desperate earl. A bluestocking heiress. A marriage of convenience gone awry.

Miss Amelia Hart may have a hefty dowry, but she seems to be invisible to eligible gentlemen. When the charming and handsome Earl of Longley begins courting her, she’s baffled. Until she realizes that he’s a fortune hunter.

Amelia proposes a mutually beneficial arrangement that could prove dangerous to her heart. They wed: he gets access to her dowry, and she has the freedom she’s always dreamed of…as long as she doesn’t fall for him.

Resisting the earl’s gentle touches and kind words proves almost impossible, but Amelia knows she isn’t the type of woman to entice a man like him. Loving her new husband can only end in heartbreak.

Excerpt from The Earl’s Bluestocking Bride

Andrew studied the strange woman, intrigued. She stared back at him with wide eyes the color of the sky on a clear summer’s day. He’d been looking for her ever since speaking with her mother, but securing an invitation to meet Miss Hart had proven much simpler than actually locating the chit.

He’d never expected to find her behind the shrubbery.

“S-sir.” She straightened and smoothed her free hand down the front of her dress. Something fascinating flashed through her eyes. “I was not hiding. I was merely… rearranging the greenery.”

He chuckled, enchanted by the little liar. “There are servants for that.”

Surely, she was used to having servants around. A man as rich as her father must have dozens of them.

Miss Hart raised her pert, slightly pointed nose. “I enjoy horticulture.”

“You do?” he asked, amused.

“Yes.” She sounded very uncertain. “It is a hobby of mine.”

Entertained as he was by her falsehoods, he needed to know what she was doing over here.

He took two steps toward her, ensuring that no one would be able to overhear their conversation. “Did someone upset you?”

She sighed and squeezed those bright eyes shut, only for them to flutter open a moment later. “This”—she gestured at their surroundings—“is quite a change of pace for me. I simply needed a moment alone to gather my thoughts.”

Guilt flashed through him. While he’d never been one to get overwhelmed by social events, Ashford was, so he was familiar with how debilitating it could be. She’d sought out a few seconds of peace, and he’d intruded like a clumsy oaf.

“My apologies for the interruption. If you need a while longer, I can stand guard and ensure no one approaches.” It was the best peace offering he could think of, especially considering that he didn’t wish to alienate Miss Hart.

It was refreshing to speak with a woman who wasn’t either simpering at everything he said or too intimidated to respond.

She cocked her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I do believe it would be most improper. After all, we haven’t even been introduced.”

“Ah, but I have met your mother, and I am certain I have her blessing to introduce myself to you.” Mrs. Hart had been practically gleeful when he’d asked her about her daughter. “I’m the Earl of Longley.”

To his surprise, she cringed. “I see.”

She didn’t say anything more, and he wasn’t sure why his identity caused her distress.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, to break the silence. “Assuming this dance is not promised to someone else.”

She laughed. “I am quite sure it is, but I’m avoiding taking part.”

He grinned, relieved she was conversing with him again. “Well, what about the next one, then?”

“I suppose so.” She held out her hand for him to look at her card.

He hid his amusement as he did so. He wasn’t accustomed to young women being quite so unimpressed by him. He read the list of names on her card, his eyebrow rising. Mrs. Hart hadn’t wasted any time in thrusting her daughter at every available titled man in the room, and a few second sons as well.

The next dance already had a name scrawled beside it, but he crossed it out and added his own. Her lips parted, and a breath gusted between them.

He put a finger to his lips. “Our secret. Trust me, you don’t want to dance with Lord Brunner.”

He half expected her to protest, but instead, her mouth curved into a sly smile.

“In that case, I appreciate your assistance.”

The music ended, and he offered her his hand. “If we intend to dance, we must, unfortunately, leave the cover of your beloved shrubbery.”

She stifled a laugh. “You are absurd, my lord.”

He winked. “Better that than boring.”

Meet Jane Rivers

Jayne Rivers writes heartfelt and steamy regency romance books. She’s also a professional chocolate connoisseur, a Sarah MacLean and Julia Quinn fangirl, and has a totally healthy obsession with tea.

https://jaynerivers.com/books

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61553767020425

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Tea with the Marquess and Marchioness of Ellington

Recently, the Duchess had the pleasure of receiving James, Marquess of Ellington, and his wife, the former Edythe Cavendish. The ton was abuzz with her ladyship’s story. You see, my friends, she lost both her parents in a fatal carriage accident and became the ward of her distant cousin Prudence. For ten years, young Edythe survived her cousin’s control of both of her bank accounts, a sizable sum and attempts to eradicate any sign of her independence. She kept telling her she would be a spinster for the rest of her life. But Edythe was her father’s daughter, and if anything, a Cavendish is a survivor. There is a happy ending to this story. As a matter of fact, there are two happy endings. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Our duchess, Eleanor, has become a close friend of the couple and has invited James and Edythe to tea. Oh, wait. I believe I hear their coach arriving. Sit tight, my friends and Eleanor will find out all about their amazing story.

“James, Edythe, it’s wonderful to see you both,” Eleanor said, gesturing for them to take their seats.

As they settled, Eleanor’s gaze sharpened with curiosity. “Now, I must confess, I’ve been dying to know more about the infamous Cavendish ghost and its curse. I hear it played quite a role in your union.”

Edythe’s eyes met James’, a smile curling at the corners of her lips. “Indeed, it did. Though a tragic tale, it brought us together in the most unexpected way.”

James nodded, taking Edythe’s hand. “The ghost, Lord Alistair, was denied his love, Isabell. She wasn’t of the correct family. As he lay dying of a broken heart, he cursed the family and Cavendish Hall.”

Eleanor leaned in, captivated. “And how did this curse bring you two together?”

“A series of strange happenings. Mr. Hughes, the prestigious solicitor, had been searching for the heir to the Cavendish estate and fortune for some time.” Edythe held Eleanor in rapture. “Imagine, after ten years of searching, he found me.” Edythe sat back, removing her hand from Eleanor’s. “It was difficult to accept, especially with Prudence telling me terrible things.”

“It’s for me to gossip, my dear.” Eleanor’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “When you were discovered, let’s just say that the way in which you had been treated by your cousin appalled many if not all of us. But enough about her, how did you and James meet?

“We met when he pulled me into a moving train that was leaving the station for Cavendish Hall. He jumped on the train and gave me his hand,” Edythe recounted. “It was quite breathtaking.”

“Oh, dear.” Eleanor was quite taken aback. “Such daring.”

James continued, “I had been documenting the Cavendish family history. As a remote relative, I was interested in finding out if the ghostly hauntings were true or simply stories told to children to keep them away. When Edythe told me she heard the ghostly music in the ballroom, I knew we were close to finding out the truth.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened, her breath held. “And how did you do it, find the truth?”

“It was a combination of things, Lord Alistair needed to know the truth about his love. Isabell hadn’t abandoned him.” James took Edythe’s hand and stared at her. Eleanor didn’t miss the love between them.

“Edythe found the secret that lifted the curse.” James chuckled. “We started our quest when Edythe learned of a missing music box. Not too long after that, she heard ghostly music box playing in the empty ballroom. That was the first time Lord Alistair appeared.”

“We danced to the music. I thought it was a dream, but he left me a small gift, his handkerchief, so I couldn’t doubt our meeting. Ultimately, it was the music box that held the answer. But it took our declaration of love for Alistair and Isabell to reconcile,” James’s voice resolute. “It was All Saints’ Day Eve, at the witching hour. At the stroke of midnight, the ghosts of Alistair and Isabell reunited, and the curse was lifted. We married soon after.”

Eleanor sat back, a smile playing on her lips. “What a remarkable tale. And to think, it led to your happily ever after.”

Edythe squeezed James’ hand, their connection undeniable. “Indeed, it did.”

Tea continued, conversations flowing easily, but the legend of the Cavendish ghost lingered in the air, a reminder of the power of true love and the mysteries that bind the past to the present.

Eleanor stood. “I’m glad you helped Lord Alistair,” she said, turning to Edythe. “And I’m thrilled that you found your James. Your story is a great adventure. I am honored and want to thank you for sharing so much with me.”

Eleanor walked her guests to the door. “The two lessons I learned from your story are insightful ones. First, in life, one must take responsibility for one’s actions. Second, true love can endure time and distance.”

She hugged Elizabeth and James. “Please, you must visit me again.”

A Wraith at Midnight

When spooky manors and or ghostly specters call,
this stunning collection of haunted Historical Romance novellas
is sure to answer, leaving you breathless with ethereal, romantic tales…

Many of your favorite Historical Romance authors have come together for a collection of never-before published stories inspired by legendary hauntings and ghostly myths. A derelict old castle? A spectral lady wandering the forests? These tales will give you a chill, a thrill, and have you reading them over and over. From the moors of Devon to the ballrooms of Regency London, and far north into the Scottish Highlands, these stories will bring you wistful dreams of legendary and haunting romance. You’ve never before experience a collection like this by some of the very best authors in Historical Romance.

My Heart’s Song
by Ruth A. Casie

In the melody of a haunted past, romance unfolds, revealing a tale of love,
spirits, and a song that transcends time.

In 1850, tucked away in the heart of Northumberland, Edythe Cavendish’s life is upended by the inheritance of a manor shrouded in mystery and whispers of a bygone era. The sprawling estate, with its rolling hills and ancient woodlands, harbors secrets that echo through the manor’s corridors, watched over by the ghost of Lord Alistair, its last lord. His ghostly warnings speak of an enduring curse, a narrative of love forsaken and a legacy shrouded in darkness.

Lord James Ellington, heir to the Duke of Northumberland, shares Edythe’s passion for unraveling the past. Together, they discover a music box whose haunting melodies are intertwined with the manor’s troubled history, revealing their intertwined fates. Their journey through the archives uncovers letters and relics that draw them closer to the truth and to each other.

Yet, as the curse’s grip tightens, a near-fatal accident threatens their future, and a heated argument pushes them to the edge of despair. In their darkest hour, a hidden letter from the past holds the key to their salvation. Will Edith and James’s love prove strong enough to break the silence of centuries and herald a new beginning?

Buy Link: Amazon

Chapter One

September 12, 1850
East Coast Main Line

Miss Edythe Cavendish’s heart fluttered with a peculiar blend of trepidation and exhilaration as she boarded the train, her shoulder brushing against a gentleman’s arm in the chaos of the boarding crowd. She offered a quick, apologetic smile to the stranger whose startling summer blue eyes lingered in her mind as she settled into the velvet seat of the train compartment. A half-hour later, the rhythmic clatter of wheels against the tracks echoed her own restless thoughts. Her hand instinctively reached for her reticule. She withdrew a crisp and formal letter from Mr. Hughes, the solicitor. She had read it and reread it at least one hundred times. The document informed her of an inheritance most unexpected—a manor house, no less.

The correspondence arrived three weeks ago at her cousin Prudence’s home, where she had lived for the last ten years since her parents’ passing. Mr. Hughes’s letter set off a flurry of activity. By the end of the week, preparations and farewells were set into motion. Yet, amidst the bustle, a shadow of Prudence’s discontent cloyed the air like a pall, along with vivid descriptions of a haunted decrepit house. It was clear, in the tightness of Prudence’s smiles and the sharpness of her gaze, that her cousin resented her good fortune, or was it her loss of control over the modest inheritance left to Edythe by her parents? To her relief, Mr. Hughes saw to that as well.

With her solicitor’s assurance, the house was not decrepit, and with his help, Edythe settled her affairs in London and made the necessary travel arrangements. Prudence, ever the matriarch, had deemed Edythe’s solitary journey inconceivable and insisted a seasoned chaperone was required for a young lady such as herself. As a result, Prudence condescended to go with Edythe; after all, who else would go with her? Edythe quickly reminded her while young ladies indeed needed a chaperone, spinsters, the word Prudence used to reference her, did not. So here she was, on her own, aboard the train to Sommer-by-the-Sea and Cavendish Hall.

As Edythe settled into the rhythmic sway of the train, she once again unfolded the letter from Mr. Hughes. The words “rightful and true heir to the Cavendish land and all its holdings” stood out, evidence of the solicitor’s thorough decade-long research and the unexpected turn her life was about to take.

“While the Cavendish legacy allows for female heirs, the lineage has been meticulously traced to ensure that only a direct descendant, who embodies the true spirit and virtues of the Cavendish name, can claim the estate. It appears, Miss Cavendish, that you are the first in a century to meet these stringent criteria. Furthermore,” the letter continued, “it is important for you to be aware that Cavendish Hall has been without a resident Cavendish for the past 100 years since the passing of Lord Alistair, the last recognized lord of the manor. The estate has been maintained through a trust established by your ancestors, ensuring its preservation until such time as a direct heir could be located and take rightful ownership.”

With the proof of her lineage secured within the crisp folds of the paper, Edythe felt the weight of her new responsibility — she was, indeed, the last of the Cavendish line, bound for a home she’d never known, a home waiting for her arrival.

She glanced at the empty paper cone beside her and sighed. The shrill cry of the steam whistle broke her reverie. The train slowed, and Edythe seized the opportunity to disembark briefly and get another helping of chestnuts at the provincial station. The platform bustled with life, the air filled with the scent of coal smoke and the cries of vendors hawking their wares. She exchanged a few coins for a paper cone of roasted chestnuts, the warmth a comfort against the autumn chill. As she ate her treat, she gazed out into the countryside, thoroughly enjoying the view.

As the whistle blew its warning, Edythe turned to see the train lurch forward without her.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the young man with the summer blue eyes she had brushed against in London striding toward her, concern etched on his brow. “Miss, your train!” he called out.

Panicked, her snack spilled out on the ground as she dashed toward the moving train, her boots pounding the wooden planks of the platform.

The young man leapt into action. He jumped onto the train and then extended his hand. “Quick. Grab my hand.”

by

Spotlight on Lord Ramsey’s Red-Headed Ruin

Book 3 in Scarlett Affairs is available now!

Lord Ramsey’s Red-Headed Ruin

By Cerise DeLand

It’s dangerous to be an honest woman.
Torture to be the man who loves her.
Amber St. Antoine flees Paris—and her role to spy on Bonaparte.
Ramsey must find her and keep her safe.
But the lady objects.
Stubborn, defiant and stunningly beautiful, Amber accepts Ram’s protection…even as she refuses to leave France.
What’s a man to do, if he’s determined to save her from herself…and is foiled at every turn?
Is he a fool to believe that love conquers all?
by

Spotlight on Only a Lyon Will Do

Only A Lyon Will Do: Lyon’s Den Connected World

By Sherry Ewing

Can a chance encounter turn desire into love?

Asher Tyler, Earl of Rowley, has guarded his life as a carefree bachelor by avoiding romantic entanglements and the debutantes of each Season. When his world is turned upside down by a mysterious woman who saves him from a fall, Asher wishes to know her better but she refuses to reveal her identity. Asher cannot forget the woman at the Lyon’s Den and remembers every delectable detail about her.

Mrs. Patience Moore, a widow with a complicated past and ties to the Wicked Widow’s Club, was disowned by her merchant father when she married without his consent. Now a widow, she lives with her friend, Cassandra, who pays the matchmaking fees of the infamous Mrs. Dove-Lyon, the Widow of Whitehall, to find a husband for Patience.

But Patience doesn’t want an arranged marriage. She wants to fall in love but not with the man who stumbled into her one night at the Lyon’s Den who appears only interested in one thing. She knows his type. She should stay far away from him. Her heart tells her differently.

Mrs. Dove Lyon’s matchmaking brings Asher and Patience together, but the road is complicated. Asher insists he isn’t interested in marriage, his brother is vying for Patience’s affection, and an enemy from Asher’s past is seeking revenge.

Only time will tell if love will win over a woman who is afraid to trust and a man who refuses to see that the perfect woman is right before his eyes.

Learn more on Sherry’s website at https://sherryewing.com/regency-books/only-a-lyon-will-do/