Tag: Regency

22
Feb
2025

The Chimney Sweep ~ Guest Post by Louise M. Gouge

categories: Announcements, Christmas, History, Recommended Reading, Regency Romance

Regency Reflection is happy to welcome Louise M. Gouge to the blog today. Be sure to check out Louise’s new book, A Suitable Wife after reading the article below.

Thanks for stopping by, Louise!

Christmas Tree and Fireplace

Nothing can cheer up a wintery night more than a fire in an old-fashioned fireplace, especially at Christmas time. Although today most of us have other methods of heating our homes, we enjoy the nostalgia generated by a cozy blaze so much that we put up with all the work that goes into maintaining our hearth.

In Regency times, of course, people had no choice but to warm their homes with a wood or coal fire. Wealthy people had the advantage of having servants to keep the home fires burning. But when it came time to clean the chimney, a specialist was called in: the chimney sweep.

Chimney Sweep Boy With Tools

Armed with their circular brushes and metal scrapers, these men removed all of the caked on soot and ash that could cause a larger fire and perhaps even burn down the entire house. In order to remove the flammable matter from the smaller upper reaches of the chimney, the master sweeps would buy small boys (from desperately impoverished parents) and force them up inside the cold flue to scrape away the dangerous substances. No child labor laws protected these little “climbing boys,” and countless numbers of them suffered stunted growth, lung disease, sterility as adults, and early death from breathing in the soot.

A Chimney Sweep and his climbing boy Today we are shocked and saddened to hear of any form of child abuse, and efforts are made to save children in similar dangers. Even during the Regency era, many godly reformers sought to make changes in social inequities. But it was not until 1864 that Lord Shaftesbury succeeded in eliminating the use of “climbing-boys” through the Act for the Regulation of Chimney Sweepers, which established a penalty of £10.00 for offenders. That was a hefty sum in those days.

When I learn such an interesting historical fact, I like to incorporate it into my stories so that my readers can get a realistic picture of the past along with the romance. Although I didn’t plan this particular scenario to link the first two books in my Ladies in Waiting series, it turned out that in the first book, A Proper Companion, my hero’s titled brother had a severe bout of pneumonia and almost died. Then Lord Greystone became the hero of A Suitable Wife, so it was natural for him to have great empathy for anyone with breathing problems. When he encounters two little brothers. . .but that would give away too much of the story. Let’s just say that Lord Greystone’s efforts would have made Lord Shaftsbury proud.

Here’s the story: It’s an impossible attraction. Lady Beatrice Gregory has beauty, brains—and a wastrel brother. With her family fortune squandered, her only chance of a Season is as a lowly companion. London’s glittering balls and parties are bittersweet when Beatrice has no hope of a match. Still, helping Lord Greystone with his charitable work brings her genuine pleasure…perhaps more that she dares to admit. Even when every marriageable miss in London is paraded before him, the only woman to capture Lord Greystone’s attention is the one he shouldn’t pursue. Attaching himself to a ruined family would jeopardize his ambitions. Yet Lady Beatrice may be the only wife to suit his lord’s heart.

Originally posted 2012-12-14 10:00:00.

21
Feb
2025

Passion for Regency Fashion ~ the Spencer, by Susan Karsten

categories: Fashion

During the Regency, an extremely fashionable item was the spencer, a very short jacket, resembling the bodice of the pelisse (see my earlier post on the pelisse) with long sleeves extending over the hands.

Designed to cover the chest, spencers were made of a variety of materials, including wool, silk, satin, and velvet. Many chose spencers with high, frilled collars, but some were collarless. In our day, the bolero, shrug, or cardigan serve the purpose of filling in a low neck, offering warmth for the chest, or simply completing an ensemble.

I find this item of apparel to be quite useful. Do you wear the modern version of the spenser, known as the bolero or shrug?

Originally posted 2012-12-12 10:00:00.

08
Feb
2025

Get to Know Our Own Laurie Alice Eakes (And win that gift basket!)

categories: Author Interview, Contests

If you’ve been reading Regency Reflections for a while then you already know a lot about Laurie Alice Eakes. Today I’m chatting with Laurie Alice to learn a little bit more about what she thinks about Regency England and her new book, Flight of Fancy.

Be sure to check out the trivia question at the end of the post for another chance to win that amazing gift basket!

If you were to travel back in time to Regency England, what do you think would be your favorite part?

Hmm. About a dozen flitted through my mind here, from hot chocolate brought to my bedroom before I got up in the morning, to gentlemen being gentlemen, which sounds sexist to our contemporary views, and still seems appealing.

What would you miss the most?

Cleanliness. No question about that. We gloss over it in our books, and, in truth, things weren’t terribly clean back then, not by our standards.

Ballooning is a large part of your new book, Flight of Fancy. Did you have the opportunity to go up in a balloon while you were researching it?

Unfortunately no, and I interviewed many people who have. It’s still something I intend to do.

What’s your favorite, unique Regency aspect of the novel, something you wouldn’t be able to include in a novel set in another place or time?

The Luddites are so uniquely Regency. They symbolize the stirrings of the consequences of mechanization and the burgeoning Industrial Revolution. The Luddite rebellion signifies how the world was beginning to change, one of the things about the Regency that endlessly holds my fascination. Although other riots occurred over other industrial innovations, the Luddite rebellion is unique, as men and women struggled against losing their way of life to a massive degree, to the extent soldiers had to be called in, and both rebels and soldiers died.

You include a lot of historic events in your novels. Do you enjoy the research? How much time do you spend researching versus writing?

I’d say the time is equal. I knew little about ballooning or the Luddites before starting this book, so had to read a lot of books and original documents to get a true sense of both aspects.

Do you share any personality traits with your heroine in Flight of Fancy?

I’m not as nerdy—or as smart—as she is, and I can be a bit nerdy, esp. over history. And then there are the aspects of forgiveness, self-forgiveness that is, and inner healing with which she has to cope, that I related to sometimes so much it was painful to write.

What makes your hero different from other great gentlemen you’ve written before?

He has a few aspects that are different such as his closeness to his mother, and his own interests and skills with mechanical devices. I’ve also never written a story where the hero and heroine have had a long-standing relationship before the book begins, one that makes things worse between them than better.

What was your favorite aspect of writing Flight of Fancy?

Getting these two to grow up not only in maturity about relationships, but also in their relationship with the Lord. They were particularly aged walnuts with shells terribly difficult to crack, so I had to torture them both a great deal, break them so I could show them healing. Like a limb that was broken before and wrongly set, the Lord has to break some of us to get us to healing.

Now it’s your turn! Answer the following question in the comments for a chance to win a Flight of Fancy gift basket. See details here. And don’t forget to check out Monday’s post to learn more about balloons and two additional chances to win the basket.

Trivia Question #4:

In A Flight of Fancy, Cassandra Bainbridge is the oldest unmarried daughter of a baron. How should she be addressed?

A: Lady Cassandra
B: Lady Bainbridge
C: Miss Cassandra
D: Miss Bainbridge

This contest is now closed. Please see the final post for answers to the trivia questions.

Originally posted 2012-10-10 10:00:00.

07
Feb
2025

Taking to the Sky

categories: Education, History, Regency Romance, Uncategorized

To celebrate A Flight of Fancy, we’re running a special week-long contest. Starting October 5, 2012, through next Friday, October 12, we’ll feature Regency quiz questions at the end of each post. To enter the contest, you’ll need to correctly answer the questions in the comment section below. For every correct answer, your name will be added into the drawing for a Regency Food and Frolic gift basket. There will be five questions in all, which means your name can be entered up to five times (if you get all five questions right). The deadline to answer ALL CONTEST QUESTIONS will be Saturday, October 13 at midnight.

Photo on Scenic Reflections

A Flight of Fancy has a heroine who would be considered a nerd nowadays. For fun, she reads Greek and Hebrew, translates ancient documents into English, and executes mathematics. She regrets not being able to go to university, but since she cannot, she determines to make her mark on the world through creating a balloon one can steer.

Balloons could not be steered except per the caprices of the wind currents. These change at various heights of the atmosphere, so a balloonist had to raise and lower the gas—hydrogen—level in the balloon to affect their direction. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it did not. Usually it did not. Sails and paddles were employed in an attempt to create steerage to greater or lesser success—mostly lesser.

Considering one had to go aloft with live fire to create the hydrogen, and the car or basket was not all that large, limiting the quantity of fuel, long journeys in a balloon without touching down were simply not possible. Decades later, Jules Verne’s book, Around the World in 80 Days, was considered fantasy. It was the science fiction of its day. (He is, of course, the founder of steam punk, a steam punk author told me.) But I digress.

How grand getting from London to Lisbon, sailing over the heads of the French enemy, sailing high enough to be out of range of their guns, would be! Much safer from the enemy than taking a ship.

Unfortunately, steering was the first problem with long-range travel, and having enough fuel to keep gas in the balloon was another problem.

It doesn’t mean people did not attempt, and come close, to sailing long distances. Sophie Blanchard, a famous French balloonist, sailed across the Alps. No problem. Balloons could go extremely high; therefore, getting over the mountains was not a problem for her. She was also not sailing over enemy territory, being French.

During the Regency, Mr. Sattler decided to fly from Ireland, across the Irish Sea, and to England. He did so with great success. Several times, he had to raise and lower his level to catch favorable currents, but the coast of Cumberland drew into his sites.

So he decided to go down to Liverpool, and that’s when he ran into trouble. He caught a strong current. The waxed canvas tubing that carried the hydrogen from the beaker of acid and iron shavings, to the balloon, began to tear away from the balloon, causing him to lose altitude at an alarming rate.

Mind you, he reports that he was around three miles in the sky. Plunging from that height would have been rather frightening, not to say deadly.

With great risk to life and limb, he managed to affect repairs while poised above a live fire and that beaker of acid and iron shavings to make the hydrogen. I won’t say how because I use this incident for the basis of an important scene in A Flight of Fancy.

Mr. Sattler ended up in the sea near Liverpool. A flock of sea birds attacked him for the food he had carried with him, and several ships sailed past him. Eventually, as night fell, a naval vessel stopped and picked him up.

That Lord Whittaker is against Cassandra going aloft in a balloon makes a great deal of sense. Men and women, including Sophie Blanchard, died because of their fascination with taking to the sky in a balloon. Cassandra, however, is like thousands of men and women throughout history, who risked their fortunes and their lives to bring us new inventions and scientific discoveries—she will not let the danger stop her from trying to improve balloon flight and make it a practical form of transportation.

For more details on how balloonists made hydrogen and why they went aloft with a live fire, read my article at: http://englishhistoryauthors.blogspot.com/

Today’s questions:

1: How did aeronauts steer a balloon?

A: They used sails.

B: They used paddles.

C: They used wind currents.

D: They used the balloon itself.

2: Which of the following was not used to make hydrogen for the balloon.

A: Fire

B: Acid

C: Wax

D: Iron

This contest is now closed. Please see the final post for answers to the trivia questions.

Originally posted 2012-10-08 06:00:00.

03
Jan
2025

Strange Taxes of the Regency Era

categories: History, Money

Kristi here. If you live in the United States and you’re reading this article it means either A) you’ve already finished your taxes or B) you’re avoiding doing your taxes by perusing the internet. If the latter I suggest you hop to it because Tax Day is right around the corner.

“The only things certain in life are death and taxes.” – Benjamin Franklin

How true, how true. Taxes are a way of life if you want to have a funded government. During the Regency, with the American Revolution having just wrapped up and the Napoleonic Wars raging, not to mention a Prince Regent with an eye for expensive decor, the English government taxed the citizens in every way it could think of. Newspapers, soap, tea, pins, sugar, coffee, even horses and dogs were taxed. By the time the Regency rolled around the English government had gotten very good at taxing people in unique ways.

The Window Tax

Bricked In Window Probably the most infamous of the taxes was the window tax. It was doubly bad because there was also a Glass Excise tax. So you got taxed when you bought the glass for the window and then taxed for having the window.

Any portal that allowed you to see outside of the house – even a small ventilation hole – counted towards a home’s total number of windows. Homes were classed into three groups: less than 10 windows, 10-20 windows, and more than 20 windows. The rates were occasionally raised, coming to their peak during the Regency, before slowly decreasing until the tax was eradicated altogether in 1937.

While some people, particularly poor people, did brick up certain windows to avoid the tax, false windows were also a popular architecture feature. This was awfully convenient if you did want to brick up a window because it kept it from looking out of place.

The Servant Tax

Next time you’re reading (or writing!) a Regency novel, pay attention to the number of people running around performing services for all the characters. All of them drew a tax from their employers. Footmen, butlers, valets, game-keepers, grooms, and gardeners all added together to make money to fund wars on the American and French fronts. The scale was as difficult to figure out as their money.

Families were charged different rates than bachelors. Eventually a sliding scale, based on the number of servants you employed, was applied to the rates.

Originally the law applied only to male servants working in homes or on estates. By the time Prinny came to power, women servants, waiters, book-keepers, clerks, stewards, and even factory workers and farm laborers were being taxed. The rates had also been risen to their highest point in history, making the sheer effort of making a living and running a household an expensive endeavor. While things did get better after 1823, the tax was not entirely repealed until 1889.

The Church Tax

Yes, the Church of England was also in the game of raising funds. At the time the church was responsible for much more than religious education, fellowship, and Godly worship. They also cared for the roads, the poor, and upkeep of certain public buildings – including the place of worship.

This was separate from the tithes expected from farmers and craftsmen which paid the living for the clergy. Also, while not a requirement, it was expected that people pay pew rental fees to the church to secure their seats for worship services. One would also have to tip the person who opened your pew box for you to sit down.

Tax stamp on wallpaper — Tax stamp on a piece of wallpaper, proving the tax had been paid.

All of this taxation served to make the poor poorer and the rich a little irritated. The poorest of people lived in houses without ventilation and didn’t wash because of the tax on soap. This made them sick and unable to care for themselves, in which case they had to rely on the church which meant the church had to collect more in taxes as well which led the rich to go to great lengths to drive the poor to another district. What a vicious circle.

Sadly, things haven’t changed much. Between income tax, property tax, sales tax, ad valorem tax, and other things like estate and capital gains taxes, just about everything we touch is taxed as well. I guess Ecclesiastes is right… there’s nothing new under the sun.

Sources:
What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew
Godly Mayfair
English Historical Documents 1660-1714
Regency Redingote
Regency Redingote

Originally posted 2012-04-16 10:00:00.

25
Dec
2024

Sporting Madness ~ The Existence and Growth of Organized Competition

categories: History, Uncategorized

Obama Brackets — Even the president of the United States takes time to fill out his basketball predictions.

Ah, Spring. When a young American man’s fancy turns to brackets and basketballs and he is likely to put more consideration into picking which college to root for than he did selecting which college to attend. There’s a reason it’s called March Madness.

Kristi here, and the fascination with sports is not a new one. The Regency era saw a culture on the cusp of the organized sporting events. While many games remained unofficial skirmishes, there were several championship challenges emerging by the beginning of the Victorian era. And of course, all of them got gambled on.

Royal Ascot – Horse Racing

In 1711, Queen Anne acquired land near Ascot in which to hold horse races. The first race had a purse of 100 guineas. By 1813, races at Ascot were such a part of the fabric of England that Parliament stepped in, passing an act to ensure the racing grounds remained a public racecourse.

Prinny, the future King George IV, made Ascot one of the most fashionable social occasions of the year. After ascending to the throne, he had a new stand built for the exclusive use of guests of the royal family. The Royal Enclosure still exists today and admittance to it is very difficult to obtain.

Ascot Hat 2009 — An example of a modern day hat worn by an attendee in the Royal Enclosure.

The Royal Ascot was, and still is, a four day event. It was the only racing event held at the racecourse during the 19th century. England’s elite would gather to watch horses above the age of six barrel through the course in pursuit of the Gold Cup.

The grandeur of the original races continues today in the strict dress code requiring formal day dresses and those infamous hats for the attending ladies. Men must still wear the morning suits and top hats as a nod to the Regency era.

During the early 1800s, fashion was always important to the upper class and the Royal Ascot was certainly no exception. The importance of dressing right for the races even lent its name to the traditional wide morning tie, now known as an Ascot Tie.

The Royal Ascot takes place in June, one of the last hurrahs of Spring Season.

Players Vs Gentlemen – Cricket

Cricket At Darnell — A Cricket Game at Darnell

This amateur against professional game of cricket actually skipped over the true Regency. It began in 1806, disappeared for a while, and then re-established as a yearly tradition in 1819. It remained in place until 1962 where is phased out again only to be revived in recent years, with matches in 2010 and 2011.

At the time of conception the Gentlemen, or amateurs, were largely aristocratic men who had played during their school years. The Players were professionals, paid to play by various county cricket clubs.

Unlike professional athletes of today, the professionals weren’t hired to play each other but rather to play the gentlemen that were members of the cricket clubs. Rather like a tennis pro or golf pro at a modern day country club.

The game lasted for three days and usually took place at Lord’s. Not including the most recent matches, the Players had 125 wins to the Gentlemen’s 68. Today the Players are professional athletes from England’s competitive cricket circuit and the Gentlemen tend to be pulled from the University cricket teams.

Intercollegiate Sports – The Boat Race

Colleges had always prized physical skill in addition to mental learning, but it wasn’t until the early Victorian era that they began to officially meet each other on the playing field. Prior to this point, most collegiate athletic competitions were between houses within the college.

Cricket and Rowing competitions between Oxford and Cambridge both started in the 1820s.

The Boat Race, as it is still referred to today, began in 1829 and has had a tumultuous history ever since. It would be another twenty-five years before the race settled into being an annual event, but the spirit and drive that propels people from different schools to meet on the field, or river in this case, of athletic competition was alive and well during the Regency. Currently Cambridge is on top, with 80 wins to Oxford’s 76. This year’s race will be held in April.

What sports competitions do you get excited over? What was the last major sporting event you went to see?

Originally posted 2012-03-05 10:00:00.

10
Oct
2024

A Suitable Match, Serial Story Section 2 and a Chance to Win

categories: A Suitable Match, Contests

This is from 2013: Catch this great serial story. To kick off our second year of celebrating Inspirational Regency fiction, we are presenting the serial story, A Suitable Match. At the end of the month we’ll be giving away a fabulous prize package filled with items tied to the story. For a chance to win, find the item mentioned in this section and leave a note in the comments. Details and a list of prizes can be found here.

Missed an earlier section? Read it here: 1

On the road between Somerset and London
April 1818

Dropping his clenched fists to his breeches, Miles, Earl of Twiford allowed a portion of his anger to subside. The earl stood there half-blinking at the sea nymph emerging from the overturned carriage, her wild ringlets falling about her sleek neck and shoulders.

Twiford shook his head. “Miss Blackstone? Yes, it is you.” He could feel a smile tugging at his lips. More of his fury leeched away. To think he was in high-dudgeon over the near harm to his favourite Arabian team that he’d momentarily overlooked the fact that there might be passengers within the coach requiring assistance.

Yet, as he gazed upon her again something pricked his heart. Wasn’t it ironic to bemoan the loss of a perfectly matched pair: horses, people. He wiped the dust from his chocolate-kid gloves. “Are you injured?”

Her pert mouth clamped shut as if trying to contain one of her tart rebukes. She waved an overly perfumed hand his way.

Pushing aside his manservant, Twiford lifted the creature from the carriage, her slim waist fitting nicely within his grasp. He set her to her feet but not without another blast of violet scent taming the remaining heat of his nostrils.

“Knighting!” She pointed back to the carriage. “You must get my maid out of there.”

With a nod to Drake, his servant of ten years, Twiford set her request in motion. “Where are you headed in such haste? Your noddy driver recklessly cut in front of my party. I suppose he deserved to get the worst of it, but he could’ve gotten you killed.”

“My cou… my driver? Where is he?” She spun away. The hem of her muslin skirts lapped deeper in the river mud. As she marched toward the front of her vehicle, her heart-shaped face drained of all colour. Her gaze descended upon the cresting waters. “Is he…?”

Twiford strode near and almost put his hand on her shoulder. What was it about her that made him vacillate from wanting to throttle Miss Blackstone to tracing the high arch of her neck?

She turned to him with chestnut eyes flashing. “What has been done to him?” She released a shaky breath, then leveled her shoulders. “As you remember, I am not weak or helpless. Spare no truth from me.”

Twiford shifted his stance. How well he did remember. She was a lady with a character more worthy than many of his ilk. “Your driver is in my last carriage. There’s a large, well- deserved bump on his skull, but he’ll live.”

The lady swiveled and headed to his vehicle.

Before he cut in front of her or even opened the vehicle for her, Miss Blackstone thrust open the dusty door. She gasped at the miserable sight, her bloody coachman lying prostrate on the leather seat.

This time Twiford grasped her shoulders to steady her. “He just needs to be cleaned up a bit. The injury looks far worse than what it is. How a man could nod asleep on such treacherous roads is beyond my comprehension.”

Jerking away, she leaned inside and mopped the driver’s brow with a crumpled handkerchief she’d tugged from her pocket.

“Miss Blackstone, he’ll be seen to at our next stop. The George and Pelican is very near. I prom–”

A thin woman pushed past and fell at Miss Blackstone’s feet. “I’ve got your jewels, ma’am. Nothing will be missing from this part of your inheritance. But how will we make your London appointments now? We can’t miss–”

“Knighting.” With a stern look, Miss Blackstone silenced her maid. “I’ll find a way. Blackstones always find away.”

Inheritance? The miss was heading to London? A bad feeling drummed at the pit of Twiford’s stomach. He cleared his throat. “Ladies, let me be of assistance. I am stopping the night at the George and Pelican.”

Miss Blackstone squinted at him as if she looked into a mirror, then fingered her sun-kissed tresses. “Oh, my.” Gripping bundles of her errant locks, she tamed the wild chignon. “Why are you being so helpful, my lord?”

“We can have your driver seen to at the inn to which I shall drive you,” he added.

With another quick jab of a heavy pearl pin, Miss Blackstone secured the last of her curls then stood tall. The misguided airs of a duchess cloaked about her, and the lass seemed to look through him.

“We have never been friends, my lord. Why start now?”

He toyed with the edges of his withered cravat. His sins toward her and her father mounted high. Maybe too high. Twiford swallowed his guilt and took a step toward her. Providence had a new claim to his heart. It was time to start acting upon His leading. “Miss Blackstone, it is my duty to escort you, since I’m a party to this accident, too. Perhaps the opulence of my barouche blinded your driver and caused him to lose control.”

She folded her arms. Her noble chin lifted as her countenance shifted to the maid gathering an errant garnet cloak. “Your wit is still with you, Lord Twiford.”

“Yes, as is my sense of duty.”

“Duty? Yes, you were always about duty, but I thought that was only in service to a friend.”

Perhaps frightened by Miss Blackstone’s searing tone, the Knighting woman slipped back toward the toppled vehicle with an armful of papers and muslin.

Well, he’d earned every accusatory note in the lady’s address, but this day would be different. A small token to salve the old wounds. “Madam, I must insist you allow me to escort you to the George and Pelican.”

“I suppose I do not wish to be benighted on the road. Get our things, Knighting.” Miss Blackstone marched back to her toppled gig and ran her hand along the broken ribs of the roofing. “Lord Twiford will see us to the next stop.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The maid headed to the brush scooping up unmentionables.

“My man will help. Drake, pack their things on the second carriage. Miss Knighting and Miss Blackstone will ride with me.”

“Yes, my lord.” Drake, his most loyal advocate, shook his head then followed the maid plucking possessions littering the road.

Alone with the feisty sea nymph, smelling of his favorite flower, Twiford extended his arm.

She pried away from the wreckage and put her fingers to his sleeve. Her hold was light as if it proved painful to touch him. “Escort us only to the nearest inn. I will not impose upon you any more than necessary.”

“Must you always be so willful? Can you not accept that years can change a person?”

“Forgive me.” She brushed at the specks of mud on her skirt. The scent of violets washed over him with each strike. “But I seem to remember a few choice lectures from you, my lord, about birthright, and station.”

“Well, fools know words, too.” He laid his palm atop hers. “Let me see you all the way to London. After witnessing how well your man drives, it will ease my mind to know you are safe and well in the city.”

***

This was too cruel. Cressida had hoped for a chance meeting with Lord Twiford in a fashionable drawing room at one of the Season’s soirées. As the tall, broad shouldered man handed her into his carriage, she resisted the urge to swat more mud from the skirt of her old, three-seasons-past gown. Where was a hole to hide in when one needed it?

“Miss Blackstone, are you well? You’ve a worried crease on your pretty forehead.” Lord Twiford plucked off his fine leather gloves as he reclined on the opposing bench.

“I am well.” An odd shiver coursed her spine. Twiford was as opposing and menacing as she remembered, a large raven-haired man with an assessing stare.

She licked her dry lips. “Please do not be overly concerned.” Her limbs ached. Her head pounded. Her pride surely was trampled on the floorboards. She slumped into the seat back.

Knighting leaned into her. “Such a fine carriage, Miss Blackstone. It will be a very comfortable ride.”

“Shh.” Cressida kept her voice low, but Twiford never missed anything. He was always in Chard’s confidence pointing out her flaws. She wrung her hands, then forced them to be stilled in her lap. Oh, why couldn’t he have happened upon her wearing one of Madame Touse’s new walking dresses or after Cressida’s change in circumstances had been circulated? Then maybe those wide sky-blue eyes wouldn’t be viewing her with such speculation.

She lowered her lashes, blurring Twiford’s image with the weave pattern in the Padua silk lining the walls. “My lord, thank you … for your assistance.” A yawn escaped of its own volition. “But I’m sure you’ll be glad to be rid of us.”

“On the contrary, it’s good to have company on these long treks from the country. No one usually wants to go set up the Grosvenor townhouse, just enjoy its offerings. Hopefully, my mother and sister will stay long enough to bring it around. They left ahead of me and are already at the townhouse.”

****

The carriage swayed to a stop. Cressida stretched her arms and gazed out at the well-lit inn. Pivoting to the smiling lord, she sat up straight.

Lord Twiford rolled his shoulders, then tugged on his felt top hat. His grin shone in the dim carriage light. He lifted his hand to her. “Come along. Once I’ve had an apothecary see to your coachman. I could expect you to have some charity and dine with me, along with your maid for chaperone, of course, my dear.”

* Section 2 was written by Vanessa Riley, www.christianregency.com *

Did you find the hidden item? Note it in the comments below for a chance to win.

Don’t forget that the readers will ultimately choose who truly loves Cressida, and whom she loves in return. Already have a favorite? Go vote for him! Want everyone else to vote for him too? Grab a voting badge from the Suitable Match Extras page.

What surprises do you think await Cressida at the inn? Read the next installment!

THE CONTEST AND POLL ARE NOW CLOSED. Feel free to continue to enjoy and share the story.

Originally posted 2015-11-22 17:45:39.

09
Oct
2024

Retro Read: The Country Gentleman by Fiona Hill

categories: Book Reviews, books, Recommended Reading, Regency Romance

Ann Guilfoyleis a wealthy and independent young woman in Regency England, with her life planned before her. She opens her drawing room to what she considers the creme de la creme of thinking people and she intends to marry the exact right man. Then financial tragedy strikes and she finds herself 200 miles from London trying to settle herself into country life, a fate worse than death for a woman who considers herself sophisticated and intellectual. She thinks she can only mock thegentleman farmer Mr. Highet and his “gargantuan” mother. In short, Ann is a snob who thinks this country gentleman beneath her, yet when a different tragedy strikes, this one of the heart, she accepts his offer of help and her attitudes and heart begin to change.

This is not a story full of suspenseful, page-turning moments. The pace is almost as leisurely as the country life about which Hill writes. Yet the way in which Ann grows as a woman is so heart-warming, along with the love story, I have always listed this book among of my top fifty Regencies and worth the reread from time to time.

You will likely only find this sbook in llibraries or used bookstores. I’ve seen it for as little as $.01, which is a pity, and it is a quarter of a century old, definitely among the clean, sweet traditional Regencies of old, with an author who is a master character-driven storyteller.

Originally posted 2015-11-15 17:30:05.

05
Oct
2024

A Suitable Match, Serial Story Section 5

categories: A Suitable Match, Contests, Uncategorized

To kick off the second year of celebrating Inspirational Regency fiction, we presented a serial story, A Suitable Match. At the end of the month we’ll be giving away a fabulous prize package filled with items tied to the story.

Missed an earlier section? Read it here: 1 2 3 4

The George and Pelican Inn, somewhere between Somerset and London
April 1818

“Gone? She can’t be gone!” Chard glanced at Twiford who uttered the same words, the panic and disbelief in his voice mirroring Chard’s.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but I checked her room myself. It’s empty.” The servant shuffled his feet, probably in anticipation of fleeing the company of two angry peers.

Lord Twiford stomped from the room with Chard on his heels. If she had left, she couldn’t have gone far.

***

Cressida pressed her ear to the doorjamb, careful not to scrape it against the rough wood. A little ache and discomfort was one thing. Some things had to be suffered through in order to achieve the desired result, after all. A mass of splinters in the side of her face was another thing entirely, and something to be avoided if at all possible.

Her nose flattened as she pressed into the door, peering through the knothole. If she angled her head just right, she could see the counter at the bottom of the stairs where the innkeeper did business.

Moments earlier the innkeeper had informed the servant that she had vacated her rooms, implying that she had departed from the inn entirely. The man had been hesitant to give her a new room late last night so she could fool the men into thinking she was gone, but an old silver locket had been enough to purchase the new room and his cooperation.

She hated to part with any of her inherited jewels, but this trinket was by far the least valuable. Besides, it was worth it if it allowed her to escape the company of the men from her past.

“What is the meaning of this nonsense?” Lord Twiford’s voice shot up the stairs followed by the reverberation of his pounding on the innkeeper’s counter.

It was too bad that such a contrary disposition wore such a pleasing appearance.

Lord Chard joined the party, adding his own demands that the innkeeper tell him how she had left the premises. Cressida’s heartbeat rushed a little louder through her abused ear. Recollections of stolen kisses and quiet talks flooded her mind. The years had not done enough to dampen the memories of her engagement. How could she possibly find another man to wed in London where frolicking dances and intimate rides in the park would forever make her think of him?

“This is just like her,” Twiford ranted. “Thoughtless. Frivolous.”

It appeared his opinion of her had not improved over the years. Spoiled, careless, and vain were going to be his next insults if memory served correctly.

“Cease, Twiford. She doesn’t deserve your disdain now any more than she did then.” Chard beat his hat against his leg, looking past the innkeeper into the common room beyond. Was he hoping she would be sitting amongst the locals enjoying a cup of tea?

“I will never understand why you jump to her defense so quickly. Are you saying you approve of this reckless behavior?”

A smile crept across Cressida’s lips. Chard had defended her back then? She’d always wondered.

“Of course I don’t approve. It shows she’s never outgrown that blasted impulsiveness that had her breaking our engagement. She may be a bit self-absorbed but that’s no reason to malign her.”

Cressida’s smile fell into a frown. Breaking their engagement had not been a fit of selfish impulsiveness. How dare he discount her sacrifice on his behalf?

“I always thought her desertion of you was rather noble, myself.” Twiford strode out of her line of vision. “You needed money, she didn’t have any. She probably thought she was doing you a favor.”

She pressed a hand to her forehead and abandoned her knot hole to rest her head on the solidity of the wall, feeling dizzy despite her prone position stretched along the floor of her new room, just two doors down from her old one. Men! If they could just decide on whether or not they disliked her, they could go on to London and leave her to figure out her own transportation. The locket she’d given the innkeeper might be enough to rent her a post chaise to continue the journey.

“Pardon me, gentlemen, but could you direct me to Miss Cressida Blackstone?”

Cressida’s eyes flew open. She jammed her face against the door and felt a prick as a prong of wood stabbed her in the ear. Ross Ainsworth had recovered sufficiently from his head wound and decided to join the drama at the innkeeper’s desk.

“Who are you?” Chard demanded.

“Her driver,” Twiford mumbled at the same time that Ross declared, “Her cousin.”

“How distant?” The menace in Twiford’s voice crawled up the stairs and wrapped around her throat. She could feel his displeasure, it was so thick.

Ross’s eyebrows lowered. “Distant enough. Who are you?”

Chard jerked his gaze from one man to the other. “What is going on here?”

Twiford jutted his chin toward Ross. “He nearly killed Miss Blackstone with his reckless driving.”

“I was merely trying to get her to London as soon as possible.”

“You landed her in a river instead. I brought her here to recover.”

Ross took a slow step forward, his scraped hands balling into fists at his sides. “So help me, my lord, if you have dishonored her-“

“Me? I wasn’t the one traveling to London without a proper chaperone.”

Chard stepped between the two men before they could exchange blows. “Gentlemen, calm yourselves. We all know that Cressy – Miss Blackstone would never do anything untoward, despite how the situation might appear.”

An odd warmth filled Cressida’s midsection. It took a moment to recognize it as pleased surprise that he would defend her honor. But which “he” had caused the pleasure?

Twiford grunted. “We may not know Miss Cressida Blackstone as well as we thought. The woman has run off alone in the middle of the night after all.”

The three men leaned over the counter, addressing the nervous innkeeper. “How did she leave?” Chard asked.

“Er, well, I’m not certain, my lord. She mentioned taking a post chaise to London.”

“Then she hasn’t left,” Ross declared.

“Why not?” Twiford asked.

“I spent the night in the stable, as you so comfortably situated me. No conveyances have left the inn in the last several hours.”

“She might have walked.” Chard rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight back and forth as if he wanted to do something, anything, other than stand around discussing the situation.

“We could set out in different directions on horseback. It wouldn’t take long to catch up with her.” Ross grimaced, probably thinking of the agony putting his battered body on a galloping horse would cause.

“It certainly speaks ill of a man that he would allow a gentlewoman to stride into the night unescorted,” Twiford added

The men exchanged glances and then glared at the innkeeper. The man coughed and ran a finger between his neck and cravat.

A young servant girl slipped around them, carrying a loaded tray of tea, toast, and Cressida’s favorite orange marmalade.

Twiford held out a hand, stopping her progress. “If I may be so bold as to inquire, where are you taking that?”

“To the young lady upstairs, my lord. Her maid, Knighting, said to bring it up this morning, as her mistress would be indisposed and unable to come down.” The maid bit her lip as she looked from the three men to the innkeeper.

Cressida’s heart stopped. Her breath turned to stone in her lungs. This couldn’t be happening. She’d been so close.

“Where is this ‘indisposed’ young lady?” Chard asked.

Lie! she screamed in her head, willing the servant girl to tell them she was staying in a room at the back, or that she’d been wrong and it was actually an old woman, or, better yet, a child. Anything to buy her just a little more time, though Cressida had no idea what she would do with those precious seconds.

“In the room at the top of the stairs, my lord.”

So much for that wish.

The three men turned and looked up the stairs, right at her little knothole.

* Section 5 was written by Kristi Ann Hunter, blog.KristiAnnHunter.com *

Did you find the hidden item? Note it in the comments below for a chance to win.

What do you think the gentlemen are going to do next? Read the next installment!

Originally posted in 2013.

Originally posted 2015-10-18 22:11:25.

01
Oct
2024

To Ruin a Lady is Quite Fun

categories: Beau Monde, books, Courtship, Jane Austen, Love, Love and Romance, Marriage Proposals, Regency Romance, Romance

Helloooo, thank you to the Regency authors for letting me join your lovely group. My first Regency is releasing from Love Inspired Historical in September and it was a hoot to write. So much so that I’m at work on another.

A great regency involves just a bit of ruination…at least for the heroine in my current manuscript. But how canI go about ruining her so that she’s forced into a marriage of convenience?

As someone who has enjoyed regency romances since I was a teen, I still have so much to learn. I needed a ruination that was palatable for a Christian audience but still severe enough to force my heroine into the arms of my delectable yet decidedly anti-marriage hero. So the first place I looked was, of course, Google. My dear friend Google.

The search yielded many interesting titles but no specific reasons on why or how a lady could be ruined. I really wanted something concrete. Something unarguable. But that showed my misunderstanding of the Regency period. Thank goodness for writing friends! A dear author friend named who has been writing regencies for years informed me that all it could take is some gossip to rip my heroine’s reputation into tatters.

And so I got to work in creating ruination. After all, my hero and heroine belong together, even if they don’t know it yet!

Has gossip ever hurt you or ruined your reputation? How did you recover?

Originally posted 2015-08-17 05:00:10.