by

Introducing a character on WIP Wednesday

The reader’s first sight of a character is crucial. Here’s Seraphina Frogmore on her first appearance. She is my Frog Princess, turned into an outcast who lives on Pond Street on the edge of the slums. She is the heroine of The Talon’s of a Lyon, my Lyon’s Den connected world story, which is coming out in April.

Seraphina, Baroness Frogmore, hid behind some bushes in St. James’s Park so she could spy on two little girls while they walked—marched, almost—along the gravel path beside the pond, their eyes fixed longingly on a group of less regimented children who were feeding the ducks. She could not see the baby; only the baby carriage in which he was, presumably, asleep.

Helena, the younger of the two, took a step out of line towards the forbidden activity near the pond, and the stick the stern governess was carrying crashed down in front of her erring feet. She scurried back into line.

While the governess was still nodding her smug satisfaction, Hannah, the elder, touched her sister’s hand then whipped it back to her side just in time to miss another swipe with the stick.

Seraphina, trembling in her hiding place with the effort not to leap from the shrubs and wreak vengeance on the monstrous women, was comforted to know her brother-in-law and his minions had not yet broken the girls’ spirits or their love for one another.

Tears in her eyes, she watched them out of sight.

This was the fourth day she had seen them since she’d learned that they walked in St. James’s Park each morning. Each day was the same. A solemn little procession, with two nursemaids in the front, then another pushing the baby carriage, then Seraphina’s two black-clad daughters followed by the governess, with two footmen bringing up the rear.

Did her brother-in-law think that she would abscond with them if they were not well guarded? He was probably right, though the solicitor she had consulted had advised her to resist any such temptation.

“Until you can disprove the calumnies against your name, Lady Frogmore, any attempt to take the children will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law, and you will lose any chance of getting them back.”

Which left the other option. She needed to find a way to change Society’s opinion about her. As her solicitor had advised, “Your uncle has convinced people you are little better than a tavern wench, if you will excuse my bluntness, my lady. He says you are stupid, coarse, illiterate, and ill-mannered; a shopkeeper’s daughter unfit to have the care of your husband’s children. Anyone who meets you will see immediately that the charges are not true. Unfortunately, you have not been much in Society.”

Not, in fact, at all. Her husband Henry, Baron Frogmore, had said there was no need; that she would not enjoy it anyway, that he expected her to stay at home and keep his household. Meanwhile, he went to London for the Season and Leicester for the races and Brighton to wait upon Prinnie, all the while telling the stories his brother had exaggerated to steal her children.

Henry had liked to present himself as the handsome prince who had married the beggar maid. He’d never had much acquaintance with truth, justice, kindness or even a critical look in a mirror.

Her children were gone, and Seraphina needed to return to her lodgings to finish the chores she had been assigned in lieu of rental on her room. She had saved every penny to spend retaining the solicitor, only to find that following his advice was impossible.

 

by

Tea with a second-time bride

Susan glowed. Her godmother, the Duchess of Haverford, had never found it to be generally true that a bride responded to marriage with a joy so palpable that it lit up a room. In Eleanor’s experience, marriage crushed the light out of more brides than not.

Susan was one of the rare exceptions, and about time, too. Her first marriage had been disappointing. Captain Cunnngham was not a terrible husband. He was an absent one. In physical fact, most of the time, and emotionally the rest. He had also been serially and frequently unfaithful.

Indeed, Susan had been so disappointed in her first marriage that Eleanor was surprised she had taken the risk of a second. Of course, her second marriage was to a man she had known since she was a child. Eleanor’s friend Henry had told her all about it.

“We all thought Rutledge was courting Susan during her first season, but then he disappeared and a few months later, she accepted young Cunningham. After that, she had nothing good to say about Rutledge. When we heard he had accompanied her north to help her rescue her kidnapped daughter… Well! I certainly didn’t expect them to fall in love and marry!”

Susan had been at least half in love with Rutledge all those years before, of course. Which was the reason she was so upset with him when he abandoned his courtship. And anyone who had seen the poor man yearning after her on the rare occasions they were in the same room knew that he had never ceased to be in love with her.

Eleanor was unsurprised to find that Rutledge’s nasty elder brother had come between the pair when Susan was young, unattached, and naive. He undoubtedly wanted her for himself, the horrid man.

“I need your help, Aunt Eleanor,” Susan said, once she and Eleanor were established with a cup of tea. “I want to reestablish Gil in Society. It is part done, of course, because my friends will accept him for my sake, but so many people still judge him by his brother and his father. He is nothing like them, I can assure you, but those two reprobates brought such dishonour to his name and title that he almost refused to marry me for fear he would never live it down!”

“People need to meet him and see for themselves that he is a good man,” Eleanor observed.

“Precisely.” Susan took a sip of her tea, watching Eleanor over the rim.

“Yes, Susan,” the duchess told her. “I will help you to change the minds of those who tar your husband with his family’s brush.”

by

Spotlight on Enticed by a Governess

Enticed by a Governess

by Jane Charles

RELEASE DATE OF ENTICED BY A GOVERNESS: January 31, 2023

Charlotte Hawthorn had everything she could ever want. She lived alone, enjoyed freedoms that few women ever experience, was a governess and an artist, and she had not seen her husband in four years. Theirs was a marriage in name only, a convenience.

Victor Hawthorn, Viscount Blackmar, had not wanted to marry a stranger at the age of one and twenty. However, when a wealthy merchant purchased all his father’s debts, Victor was given the choice to either marry the man’s soon-to-be sixteen-year-old daughter or his family would face complete ruination. Victor had chosen marriage then left his young bride on a small estate and returned to his life.

When he reluctantly returns four years later, Victor doesn’t find the girl he left behind, but an enticing, independent woman who not only creates beautiful art but would rather be a governess than married to him. Will they find their way to love and happiness or will all be ruined by an enemy who sets out to destroy their future?

EXCERPT from ENTICED BY A GOVERNESS:

“So, we finally meet.” As a smile graced his lips, a small dimple appeared on the left side.

“It appears so.” Charlotte turned away from him. He was so much more handsome when he smiled. A girl couldn’t think straight looking at him. “You were not supposed to meet me until tomorrow.”

“Yes, I know,” he said coming to stand beside her. “But my curiosity got the better of me.”

“They say curiosity killed the cat,” Charlotte mumbled.

Victor chuckled. “In this case curiosity only brought relief.”

Charlotte tipped her head so that she could study him from the corner of her eye, skeptical of his words.

“Your appearance has been much of a mystery, and after overhearing my parents, as you did, I feared my imagination had me marrying a witch with a huge wart on the end of her nose.”

Charlotte laughed lightly. At least she wasn’t that ugly, she hoped.

“I do apologize for their words. I can only offer that they are rude and smug for no reason other than they feel entitled to belittle others because they are in possession of a title.”

“It is not necessary to apologize for what many believe is the truth,” she explained.

Mr. Hawthorn pulled back and opened his mouth to speak but said nothing. He likely wished to insist that they were wrong but could not bring himself to lie to her.

“How old are you?” There was hesitation in his voice.

She looked young, that she knew, but had her father failed to mention her age in all of this? “Fifteen, soon to turn sixteen.”

He stilled and she could almost feel the tension radiate from him. Was it too much to hope that he would stomp off and refuse the marriage, or insist that it take place when she was older?

After a moment he heaved a sigh and settled on the hillside and invited her to sit. “As we have been given this opportunity, we might as well become acquainted.”

“We should not be out here together.” She had never been alone with a man before, let alone anyone who looked like him.

Mr. Hawthorn smiled up at her. “As we are marrying tomorrow, I see no harm.”

Charlotte sank to her knees beside him. “You are still going to marry me?” She couldn’t believe he wasn’t trying to find a way to back out of the agreement. His family must really be in a most dire financial state.

LINKS FOR ENTICED BY A GOVERNESS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Enticed-Governess-Love-4-ebook/dp/B0BNYBL4QC

Apple: https://apple.co/3WXsHyM

Nook/BN: http://bit.ly/3WWGKou

Kobo: http://bit.ly/3GOIuu8

Smashwords: https://bit.ly/3GOp2xz

Books2Read:  https://books2read.com/u/b6zdBE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling author Jane Charles is a prolific writer of over fifty historical and contemporary romance novels. Her love of research lends authenticity to her Regency romances, and her experience directing theatre productions helps her craft beautiful, touching stories that tug at the heartstrings. Jane is an upbeat and positive author dedicated to giving her characters happy-ever-afters and leaving the readers satisfied at the end of an emotional journey. Lifelong Cubs fan, world traveler and mother of three amazing children, Jane lives in Central Illinois with her husband, two dogs and a cat. She is currently writing her next book and planning her dream trip to England. Be sure to join Jane on Facebook @JaneCharlesAuthor for Wine Pairings Wednesdays.

FOLLOW JANE:

 

Website:  https://www.janecharlesauthor.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JaneCharlesAuthor

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4879172.Jane_Charles

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jane-charles

Jane’s Reader Group – Romance & Rosé: https://www.facebook.com/groups/romanceandrose

 

by

Danger and adventure on WIP Wednesday

In The Flavour of Our Deeds, I decided I was tired of the hero rescuing the heroine. Here’s Kitty, hunting for her husband, who has been kidnapped.

“You two stay here with the prisoner,” she told Dixon and Henry. “Millie and I will scout the area.” She adjusted her quiver so she could reach it quickly, took half a dozen arrows, and set one into her small hunting bow.

“I should do that, my lady,” Dixon protested. “You are a lady! I can be trusted. I promise.”

Kitty thought she probably could trust the man not to betray them, but she wasn’t going to risk it. “Stay here,” she repeated. “My husband trained me and Millie in woodcraft. We will not be in danger, and will return when we know whether there are guards.”

There were. Two men, sitting on a ledge part way up the rock outside of a cave that was awash with each wave. They were passing a bottle between them as they took it in turns to toss a pair of dice. 

With all their focus on their game, they didn’t see Millie and Kitty creep towards them. Not until Kitty stood, her arrow nocked and her bow drawn. “Hands up,” she said.

Both men reached for the guns that lay beside them. Two arrows flew, and both flinched back, dropping the guns into the wave. One gun had an arrow in the stock. The other arrow had glanced off the other gun and struck its holder in the face.

“Millie, collect their guns,” Kitty commanded.

Her maid put her own gun down and crept forward, taking care not to get between Kitty and the two smugglers. 

“You won’t shoot,” one of the smugglers ventured. “You’re a girl.”

“She did shoot, you fool,” hissed the other.

“And hit exactly what I aimed at,” Kitty told them. “The next two arrows will go into your black hearts. That will leave me two spare and another six that I can reach and fire in seconds. Don’t move. Don’t speak. Don’t think. Millie, fetch the others.”

by

Tea with Ella and Alex from A Raging Madness

Her new set of carriage horses were everything the Duchess of Haverford could wish. A perfectly matched set of handsome bay geldings, gentle of nature and trained not only as a team of four, but to work in pairs or even alone.

Aldridge had brought them for her for a birthday present, and the breeder and his wife had delivered them in person, bringing them down from their estate in Suffolk by gentle stages. Lord and Lady Renshaw specialised in providing riding and carriage horses, and were gaining a stirling reputation among the ton. Lord Renshaw, or Alex, was an ex cavalry officer whose courage had been rewarded with the title of viscount and a rundown estate, which they were rapidly building into a prosperous going concern.

Aldridge knew them personally, of course. Alex was a Redepenning, a cousin of Stephen, Lord Chirbury, who was Eleanor’s nephew and therefore also Aldridge’s cousin. His wife was a less well known quantity. Ella had followed the drum as a child, had been married to a baronet, and there had been accusations of insanity around the time of her second marriage. All nonsense, as it turned out. A ghastly plot by her cousins in league with a villain whom Alex had killed in self defence.

As she poured tea for them all, Eleanor questioned them about the bloodlines of the horses and their training. “They will also take a saddle, Your Grace,” Ella said. “A gentleman’s saddle or a sidesaddle. We like our  horses to be ready for any eventuality.

So it was true. Ella was as involved in the stud farm as her husband. Indeed, one of their two most successful studs had been her dowry. “Do you drive, Lady Renshaw?” Eleanor asked, on a sudden whim. At Ella’s nod, she suggested, “Let us have two of my fine new fellows harnessed to the tilbury. We will leave your husband and my son to the brandy they would much prefer to have to their tea, and you shall drive me around the grounds and tell me all about your children.”

by

Spotlight on The Golden Redepennings: Books 1 to 4

Published on 24 March: The box set of the first four Golden Redepenning novels. It’s only $4.99 until the end of the month. In February, it will revert to $9.99, which is still a great price for four long novels.

Order your copy today: https://books2read.com/GRbox-set

Here’s more about the series: The Golden Redepennings

And here are the covers of the four books included in the set:

And, finally, one of the early reviews.

I had read books 1 and 2 several years ago. It’s especially good to binge read such a series. I had forgotten how obnoxious and cynical Alex was at times in book 1 – Farewell to Kindness. In book 2 – A Raging Madness – he takes on the role of knight errant and is less bitter than in book 1. (Well, of course. He has admired Ella for years.)

In all 4 stories there are secrets to be revealed (including surprises for the reader) and many obstacles to overcome, including the reluctance of the main characters to voice their feelings for the other. I felt transported in time and place by these well-paced and carefully crafted stories.

by

Masks and Masked Balls in Regency England


Masked balls and masquerades were a popular part of Georgian culture that continued on throughout the Regency.

People attended wearing a mask, and possibly a costume, and the event often included a time for a general unmasking. First, there were the public balls, such as those at some theatres or at Ranalagh and later Vauxhall Gardens. Those could be attended by anyone with the price of a ticket. All the rules we’ve learned about in reading novels set in the Regency were ignored or turned on their head during the masked part of the evening–and were expected to be. Indeed, only the most careless of guardians would allow a lady under their care to attend.

As for private balls, they could be just as bad, though it depended on the host and the guest list. In the Bluestocking Belles collection Holly and Hopeful Hearts, the high sticklers are shocked that the Duchess of Haverford would include a masked ball at her house party, but she is confident that, with the guest list controlled and her and her committee of ladies on the watch, all propriety will be observed. Even so, a naughty maiden in one story is only saved by the good sense of the rakes who outrage her, and in another story, a lowly-born chef borrows a costume to steal a dance–and a kiss in the garden–with a lady.

In less controlled environments, the behaviour was–and was expected to be–much more lively. Propriety, sobriety, and even chastity were ignored once people put their masks and costumes on. In fact, possibly a private affair, where a person might expect to meet only people from their own class, the guests might be encouraged to be even less careful!

In Lady Beast’s Bridegroom, my heroine Arial wears a half-face mask for a different reason… Because one side of her face is horribly scared. She is delighted in the next novel in the series, One Perfect Dance, when her friend Regina holds a masquerade ball, so that Arial will not stand out from the crowd.

by

Accidents and mishaps on WIP Wednesday

Nothing like a small hiccup in a character’s travel plans to get a plot going. In this excerpt. Pauline and Vivienne are begging for refuge from the storm, but the servant does not want to let them in.

Thorne shook his head and brandished the rifle. “You cannot come in and you cannot stay here.”

Surely, he would not actually use that thing on them? “You must see that we cannot return down the path in the dark,” she told him. Where was his master? She hoped Peter’s friend would not turn Peter’s sister from his door, much as he might wish Pauline herself to perdition.

Thorne was still shaking his head. “Not my problem. We don’t have visitors.”

Technically not true, since Peter had been here several times since Captain Lord John Forsythe moved so far north, and at least once, he had brought Arial. The man’s brother, the Marquess of Deerhaven, had also visited.

Perhaps Thorne’s objection was to women visitors.

He added some weight to that theory by saying, “You can’t stay here. Unmarried young women with no chaperone? I know what you’re about.”

Pauline was perilously close to losing her temper. She could feel the scalding hot words bubbling up inside her. She breathed deep and forced them down.

Vivienne took her hand. “What are we going to do?” she whispered.

Through the wet gloves they each wore, Pauline could feel Vivienne shivering with the cold. “My sister is wet and cold, and can go no further tonight,” she said. “You will find us a place to sleep out of the rain.”

Thorne sneered. “Or what?”

Beside Pauline, Neil squared his shoulders and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, someone else did. “Or I shall have a word or two of my own to say, Nathaniel Thorne.”

Jane Forsythe scampered back into view, leading the speaker, a woman of about the same age as the man Thorne. “The idea of leaving Lord Stancroft’s sisters on the doorstep in the rain! Or any other Christian out on a night like this. Put that silly gun away and go and light a fire in the blue bedchamber. Come in, you poor dears.” She nudged her husband out of the way, and beckoned them forward.

Pauline kept a wary eye on Thorne as she followed Vivienne into the tower. Neil and Keith, close on her heels, also watched him closely, waiting for him to make a wrong move. He stood there, indecisive, as Betsy dropped the bag she had been carrying.

Mrs. Thorne hovered over Vivienne, helping her remove her coat and bonnet while lamenting their sodden condition. Thorne put the rifle back on a couple of wall hooks and walked off through an interior door, muttering, “It is not as if it was loaded.”

At a nod from Neil, Keith followed the man, and Miss Jane skipped off after them both.

Mrs. Thorne turned her attention to Pauline. “Off with those wet things, Miss Turner. I shall just set the kettle on to boil. And is this your maid?”

“Yes,” Pauline acknowledged. She introduced Betsy and Neil. “Neil’s brother Keith has gone to help your husband with opening up the room.”

Mrs. Thorne looked a bit uncomfortable. “It will just be the one for the two of you,” she said. “And your men will have to share, too. It’s not that we don’t know how to entertain guests, but we are a bit out of practice, and Thorne and I are the only live-in servants, so you see…”

Pauline spoke hastily to reassure her. “Vivienne and I are very happy to share. If you have a pallet, and the room is big enough, Betsy can stay with us as well. We are well able to help with the chores. We are so very grateful you have allowed us to stay.”

“I could not turn you out into that storm,” Mrs. Thorne said. “Even the master would not expect that,” she added, but the crease between her eyebrows hinted she was unsure of the last statement.

Another thought wiped the crease away. “He will have nothing to complain of if you just stay clear of him, which will be easy enough, for he seldom comes out of his own tower, and then only to see Miss Jane. If you keep to your rooms, all shall be well.”

by

Tea with Anne and her sons

“No, Stephen,” the Countess of Chirbury said, moving a delicate vase away from the questing hands of her eldest son.

“But Mama,” the little boy protested, “I need a place to hide my soldier. He is an exploring officer, like Papa’s friend, Mr Bear. And if John’s soldiers see him, they will shoot him.”

“Yes, they will,” his twin shouted. Then bit his lip at his mother’s frown. He stood and bowed to the Duchess of Haverford, his hostess. “I am sorry for shouting, Aunt Eleanor.”

“We do not shout in a lady’s parlour,” Anne reminded her son, who sent his impish grin her way and plopped back down on the carpet to turn some of the row of lead soldiers around, presumably so they could better hunt Stephen’s little exploring officer.

“Hide your man behind the cushion, Stephen,” Eleanor suggested. Cushions were much more robust than vases. When she had invited her niece-in-law and sons to tea, she had expected the children would come with attendants to keep them entertained. But apparently Hannah, their nurse, was on her afternoon off, and the nursemaid was a substitute, the usual nursery maid having eaten something that disagreed with her.

The inexperienced girl was out of her depth with the twins. She was sitting in a chair by the window showing a picture book to little Joseph, who at eight months old was regarding the illustrations with dark intense eyes. His father already called the boy ‘the Professor’, and he certainly showed no sign of becoming like his older brothers. At four years of age, they had more mischief apiece than a barrel of monkeys, though Anne would insist, and Eleanor agreed, that they had not an ounce of malice between them. Just boundless energy, creative imaginations, dauntless courage, an inborn need to each outdo the other, and a restless curiosity that led them from near catastrophe to close disaster, so that their father swore he was growing grey before his time.

A voice spoke from her doorway. “Good day, Mama, Cousin Anne, boys. We have a freshly waxed floor in the picture gallery, Cousin Anne. If I promise to keep them away from stairs and anything breakable, may I take my little cousins to test how well it works?”

Anne smiled beatifically at the Marquis of Aldridge, Eleanor’s son. “Would you?”

Aldridge winked at her and addressed her twins. “Boys, put your armies away in their boxes. Your Mama says you may come and play with me.”

“Can we go for a ride in your phaeton, Lord Aldridge?” John asked, as he obeyed the command with more haste than delicacy, throwing the toys into the little leather box they had arrived in.

“I have another plan,” Aldridge said. “You will like it.”

“Is it going to the kitchen to eat plums?” Stephen wondered, his own soldiers–even the precious exploring officer–being tossed carelessly into his own box.

“Something different,” Aldridge told them, holding out his hands. “Something fun.”

With a boy attached to each hand, he nodded to the ladies. “Send a footman when you want to retrieve your savages, Cousin,” he said, and led them away.

“He is very good with them,” Anne told Aldridge’s mother. “He will make a good father one day.”

 

by

Spotlight on A Curio for the Count

A Curio for the Count

By Elizabeth Ellen Carter

Raised as an Englishman, Armand Danger, Comte de Ytres, is troubled by a dream from his childhood that leaves him speculating on his French past.

He is convinced an elaborate clock belonging to his late father, executed in the French Revolution, holds the answers he seeks.

Miss Jade Bridges works as a valuer in her family’s London antiques shop and auction house. One day she receives mysterious letter from an anonymous client willing to pay any price for a very specific statue clock.

While in pursuit of the clock, Jade and Armand meet and there’s immediate attraction. But how can it amount to anything when they are rivals for the very same object?

As the couple grow closer and attraction deepens, they agree to join forces to find the timepiece together.

Then an antiques dealer is killed. It appears someone else is willing to extract a fatal price to possess the clock for themselves.

What is it about this curio for the count that someone is willing to commit murder for it?

Release date 19th January: https://www.amazon.com/Curio-Count-Gems-London-Book-ebook/dp/B0BQ4C6DHK