Monday, December 05, 2016


The Savoy Chapel: A John of Gaunt whisper


Some years ago, at a Romantic Novelists’ Association conference, I heard Professor Jenny Hartley give a talk on popular Women’s Fiction – she was researching it at the time. At the end, after the questions, she said, ‘I’d now like to ask you a question: how many of you have read Katherine by Anya Seton?’

 


Cover of ‘Katherine’ by Anya Seton (1961)

A forest of hands shot up. The entire conference had read it. I myself read it as a teenager and loved it. It’s a terrific read. First published in 1954, it’s the story of a herald’s daughter, Katherine Swynford, who was first the mistress and then the third wife of John of Gaunt, a marriage which scandalized all Europe. It is one of English History’s great love stories and it truly changed the course of history; for Katherine became the ancestor of the Tudors and thus of Queen Elizabeth II.

 


Alison Weir’s ‘Katherine Swynford’

More recently, at a Historical Novel Society conference, the historian Alison Weir spoke about her new biography of Katherine Swynford. She was aware that most of the audience had probably read Anya Seton’s book, and she began by telling us she, too, had learnt of Katherine’s existence from Katherine, and paid a graceful tribute to Anya Seton’s research and the power of her story-telling. Research, however, has moved on and now we know much more about Katherine's life.

 


The Queen’s Chapel of the Savoy

So, when the opportunity came up to visit the Queen’s Chapel of the Savoy, standing on the very site where John of Gaunt had built the Savoy Palace which features largely in Katherine, (who can forget that love scene in the Avalon Chamber?) I jumped at it. I knew that the Savoy Palace had been ransacked and burnt during the Peasant’s Revolt in 1381 but I assumed that the chapel must have survived.

Before the tour, our guide, Squadron Leader Thomas Leyland, asked me if I knew anything about the Chapel. I said, ‘Yes, wasn’t it part of John of Gaunt’s Savoy Palace?’ He gave a sigh and said, ‘I don’t know how many times people have asked me that question - dozens of times. The answer’s “No.”’ 

 


John of Gaunt: a 17th century copy of an earlier painting, now lost

I thought, and I bet all of them were female, had read Anya Seton’s Katherine, and were in love with that golden-haired, sexy Plantagenet, John of Gaunt. (Except that now I see that he probably wasn't golden-haired and sexy, but dark, saturnine and sexy. Still, I can live with that.
Having said all this, and despite my initial disappointment, the Queen’s Chapel of the Savoy doesn’t disappoint. The Savoy Palace remained a ruin until the site was cleared on the orders of Henry VII (John and Katherine’s great-great grandson) in order to build a charitable foundation for a hundred ‘pour and nedie’ men, including the present chapel, in 1515.

 


The elegant 19th century ‘Gothic’ font

Two hundred years of subsequent neglect (it was never properly endowed) followed. In the early 19th century, the most of it was demolished and in 1820-21, the ruinous chapel was restored by Sir Robert Smirke, architect of the British Museum. Only the east, west and north walls and the perpendicular windows of Henry VII’s chapel survive. (Unusually, the chapel is orientated north-south rather than the usual east-west.) It was engulfed by another fire in 1864. The chapel we see today is the result of sympathetic post-fire reconstruction by Sir Robert’s brother, Sidney; I think he did a good job.

 
The altar
 
The early 16th century perpendicular style is a sort of airy Gothic which I find very attractive. I love the view towards the high altar with the delicate 19th century Gothic-style reredos behind the altar.

 
The ceiling

The wonderful blue and gold ceiling is believed to be a copy of the original Tudor building and it’s decorated with shields within quatrefoils with the coats of arms of various dukes of Lancaster associated with the Savoy, including, of course, John of Gaunt’s, with its gold on red Plantagenet lions quartered with the gold on blue fleur de lys of France.

 


Geoffrey Chaucer

To my pleasure I realized that there were, in fact, a couple of small reminders of John and Katherine’s story. As well as John’s coat of arms on the ceiling, one of the chapel windows has Geoffrey Chaucer’s coat of arms. Katherine had known him well; he had married her sister, Philippa, who was lady-in-waiting to Queen Philippa, Edward III’s wife, and John of Gaunt’s mother.  

 


Plantagenet shield

The chapel itself is, and always had been, a private chapel of the Sovereign, and thus independent of Church of England jurisdiction. Like Westminster Abbey, it is a ‘royal peculiar’. It is an integral part of the royal Duchy of Lancaster and its coat of arms is everywhere.

 


Princess Anne’s banner with her coat of arms

Since 1937, it had been the chapel of the Royal Victorian Order, an order which is solely in the gift of the sovereign for exceptional service to the crown. Princess Anne is the current Grand Master of the R.V.O. and her banner hangs from the chapel wall.   

It is very much a working chapel with regular services and a fine men and boys’ choir which the public are welcome to attend. There are also special services for members of the Royal Victorian Order, for examples, weddings and memorial services, where members of the Royal Family may be present.

It’s a lovely and tranquil place to visit.


Elizabeth Hawksley

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, November 26, 2016

Summer Wedddings free over the Black Friday weekend

It's fascinating how different ways of celebrating travel around the world. In the long Regency period,  German Christmas traditions began to take hold in England, with the most notable being the introduction of the Christmas tree. More recently - much more recently! - we have seen Black Friday move to England from the US and now all the shops have an event. We're marking this in our own way on Historical Romance UK by offering our Summer Weddings box set for free. We love making our box sets. It's a way of saying thank you to all our wonderful readers, who are helping us to keep the traditional Regency romance alive. Our Summer set contains 5 Regency romances for you to enjoy.


Waterloo Wedding is a stand-alone novel by Amanda Grange, but it is related by character to one of her most popular Regencies, The Six-Month Marriage. It tells the story of Philip's friend, Jack, who now has a chance to find a love of his own. Jack and Annabelle were childhood friends, and then sweethearts, but they are now strangers. Can they make up for the mistakes of the past as they move from the glamour of London to the Battle of Waterloo? As with all of Amanda's Regencies, love conquers all.

Knight for a Lady by Elizabeth Bailey tells of Niall Lowrie, who is burdened with an earldom he did not want, He is distracted into knight errantry on behalf of the vicar’s niece, Edith Westacott, who is being menaced by the philandering Lord Kilshaw. Will Edith succumb to Niall’s unconscious charm? Dare she dream of a promising future? Or will Kilshaw’s terrible plans for her prevail?



In Lady Emma’s Revenge by Fenella J. Miller, Lady Emma Stanton is determined to discover who killed her husband even if it means enlisting the assistance of a Bow Street Runner. Sam Ross is not a gentleman, has rough manners and little time for etiquette, but he is brave and resourceful and Emma comes to rely on him - perhaps a little too much?

For Want of a Reputation by Wendy Soliman concerns Pascal Devonshire, Earl of Walsea, who is drawn to Ophelia Montague the moment she returns to English shores. But the young lady is persona non grata in the eyes of English society. Besides, Pascal is committed to marrying Ophelia’s best friend . . .

Maid of Honour by Melinda Hammond has the Battle of Waterloo as its backdrop. When Lucilla Chambers attempts to protect her sister from the attentions of the notorious Dominic Vanderley, she finds her own honour is threatened and flees to the safety of her home. But Bonaparte is marching through France towards his fate, and the shadow of war will touch Lucilla's young life with tragedy and suffering before she can find the happiness she is seeking.


We hope you enjoy this set! If you have news of any Regency romance offers - including Austenesque fiction - for Black Friday, you are welcome to leave details in a comment below. Authors are welcome to leave details of their own Regency and Austenesque offers for the Black Friday weekend. Please say when the promotion ends.

The Summer Weddings box set is available from Amazon UK  and Amazon US as well as other Amazons. We hope you enjoy it! 

Sunday, November 13, 2016

Veiled In Blue


Veiled In Blue is the next to last Emperors of London book, and one readers have been waiting for. Julius’s story!
In all the series I write there is one character readers write to me about the most, and there are two in Emperors of London. One is Julius Caesar, Lord Winterton, the son and heir of the Duke of Kirkburton. He’s at loggerheads with his unfeeling mother, trying to keep his sister Helena out of her clutches. She has set the future roles of all her children, and Helena is to be the helpmeet.
But Julius finds a distraction. He wants to check on one of the children of the Old Pretender, a young woman adopted by a country vicar and his wife. Because he doesn’t want to make waves, he goes as plain Mr. Vernon.
And it’s there that Julius meets his fate, in the little village of Appleton. He desires her, then he falls for her, but he makes a fatal mistake that could cost him the love of his life.
Writing this story was a delight, not least because I got to write an aristocrat-in-disguise story. Julius is forced to face discomforts he doesn’t usually encounter in his normal life. People don’t bow and scrape to him, and they don’t immediately fuss over him. Being Julius, this comes as a relief, rather than a problem. He looks on the visit as a holiday.
Until danger strikes. Of course danger strikes. It wouldn’t be any fun if it didn’t!
Unlike most of the children, Eve knows she is a daughter of the son of King James II. She doesn’t really believe it, and being a practical woman, she doesn’t care very much. It doesn’t affect her day to day life in this, to her, boring part of England. She has suitors, one in particular, but when Julius bursts into her life, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.
One of the sources for this book was Fielding’s “Tom Jones,” although there isn’t anyone quite as vulgar as the Squire. I’d loved to have done my version, but there wasn’t a place for him. But Tom starts his journey in a rural community very much like the one in Tom Jones. People who knew their places living their lives and occasionally indulging in scandal. The other thing I couldn’t put in the book was the number of spankings! Children were regularly punished, and it was very much “spare the rod and spoil the child” that prevailed. Putting that into a modern book would lead to accusations of cruelty. In one of the earlier Emperors books, I put how the father of the heroine chastised her in that way. The readers didn’t like it, and hated the father far more than I’d planned!
So when I write the books I do have to bear the modern reader in mind. What was perfectly acceptable then isn’t any more. But I try to make my books authentic. It’s problems like that that make the writing process fascinating. I won’t write anachronisms, like the aristocratic lady wandering around London on her own or refusing to marry on principle, but I do temper the stories to suit the modern reader. 
You can get Veiled In Blue here:
Buy the Book and read an extract:
Publisher - Kensington Books
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Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Candlelight Courtships - Regency Romantics best selling box set.

I love being part of this talented group of Regency writers. Writing is a lonely business and being able to work with others is a real bonus.
Here is the opening section from my contribution - A Most Unexpected Christmas. This was written especially for this box set as were three other books.



Chapter One


Mrs Emily Delaney read the letter a second time as if scarcely believing what was written there. She waved the paper at her sister-in-law, Lydia. 'I have here an invitation to spend the Christmas period at Fakenham Manor.'
Lydia put down the book she had been engrossed in. 'I thought Lord Fakenham no longer communicated with this side of the family.'
'And so did I, but his mother has written to invite all of us to stay. She says here that Papa and Mama have already agreed to attend the house party.' Emily's smile was radiant. 'The children have been invited too. I expect I would have gone even if they had been left behind, but it will be so much more pleasurable to have them with me.'
'Will my brother be prepared to trek across the countryside? David is not overfond of travelling, especially at this time of year.'
'That is quite true, my love, but he will make an exception for this invitation. As you know my cousin hasn't spoken to my father since the accident. To have the family reconciled is reason enough to make the journey even in such inclement weather.
'We have had several most enjoyable visits to Hertfordshire in the past. My Cousin Theo is a charming gentleman and adores the children. He will make a fortunate young lady an excellent husband one day.' Emily pursed her lips and Lydia knew what was coming.
'I wish to hear no more about him. I shall not be accompanying you but will remain here. As you know I'm not comfortable in society anymore.' She scrambled to her feet and headed briskly for the door. 'I told you when dearest Jonathan passed away that I would never marry again. I have more money and homes than any young lady could possibly wish for. The only reason I could have for marrying is to have children of my own which you know is impossible for me. So why should I give away my freedom and wealth and gain nothing in return?'
This was a conversation she'd had several times before and she was heartily sick of being forced to explain how she felt about a second marriage. Jonathan had been twenty years her senior, a friend of her father's, who had promised to take care of her when her dearest parent had passed away. Their relationship had been loving, rather than passionate, but she had never regretted her decision for a minute.
Her husband had been an intelligent, amusing, gentleman and a considerate and tender lover. Her only regret was that they had not been blessed with children in the three short years they had been wed. He had died from a congestion of the lungs around the same time that Emily's uncle had drowned so tragically.
'Please don't run away, dearest Lydia, I promise not to mention the subject of marriage again. But David will not hear of you remaining here alone over the Christmas period.'
'I have never met any of the Fakenhams – they are strangers to me and I'm quite certain they would object most strenuously to having me foisted upon them.'
As she was about to escape further inquisition her brother walked in. He was five years older than her but they both had the same nut brown locks and striking tawny eyes. 'Upon whom are you about to be foisted, Lydia?'
Emily rushed across and pushed the letter into his fingers. He quickly read it and smiled. 'Excellent – it's far too long since I've seen the other side of your family. Please don't pressure my sister into accompanying us, my dear. She must make up her own mind if she wishes to come.'
'Am I included in this invitation?' Lydia addressed this question to her brother.
'No, of course not. How could they possibly know you were residing with us? If you wish to come then there is ample time for me to send a letter and have you included.'
She shook her head vehemently. 'I shall do very well here. Of course, if you wish me to return to Halstead Court then I am quite happy to do so. I've been here for three months already.'
He frowned and put his arm around her, then hugged her close. 'You will do no such thing. Your home is here with us now – I don't want you moping about that empty place being reminded of what you've lost.'
For a moment she allowed herself the luxury of resting her head against his solid shoulder. 'Thank you, David. I would much prefer to be here even if you and the children are elsewhere.'

I hoe this tempts you to borrow/buy the box set. CLICK HERE


Monday, November 07, 2016

The Mystery Portrait Part 1

I’ve always found paintings fascinating and inspirational, wanting to know the stories behind the faces and to understand the symbolism. Recently my curiosity took me to a fine art dealer’s studio in London where I had a wonderful time deciphering the tale behind a picture that has always intrigued me.

The painting, known as The Triple Dobson Portrait, hangs at Ashdown House. It dates from the period of the English Civil War. The names of the sitters, Prince Rupert of the Rhine, his brother Prince Maurice and the Duke of Richmond are helpfully painted onto it. It definitely has a story to tell. Prince Rupert’s scarlet cloak lies discarded over a chair; his faithful dog looks on, and in his hand is a document of some description. One of his companions is dipping a cockade into a glass of red wine. The royal colours and those of Prince Rupert, the grey and the black, are swathed around the pillar and on the cockade.

The Ashdown picture is unfinished. There is no glass for the wine and a lot of the details of the clothing in particular have not been completed. That is one of the mysteries about the painting: Why was it never finished?

In London I saw a finished version of the same picture hanging on the wall in the fine art studio.The
difference took my breath away. Where the Ashdown painting was a draft, this was simply stunning, huge, beautifully detailed and so fine. The lace was exquisite. There were even wrinkles in the table cloth! It made “our” painting seem rather clumsy! My expert told me that this finished version had a full provenance and they knew its entire story. It was painted in the winter of 1645-1646, in Oxford, by William Dobson, court painter to King Charles I. It is indeed Prince Rupert in the portrait, but not Prince Maurice or the Duke of Richmond. The soldier on the right, Colonel John Russell, had commissioned it and it had been in his family ever since. The identity of the man in the middle was still in question.

The painting tells the story of a moment in time. After Rupert had given up Bristol to the Parliamentarians he quarrelled badly with his uncle Charles I who thought he had relinquished the city too easily. Rupert was court-martialled, and though he was cleared, unpleasant rumours hung over his loyalty and that of his troops.

The portrait is a refutation of those claims. The scroll in Rupert’s hand is the ruling of the court martial, clearing him of all accusations. The combination of his own colours and those of the King underline his loyalty, as does the glass of wine, which is to be raised in a loyal toast, and of course there is the dog – the ultimate symbol of steadfastness.

So if this portrait had been painted for John Russell, who had commissioned our copy? My expert pointed out to me something that should have been obvious but that I hadn’t appreciated before, that since a triple portrait featured three people there were usually three copies of it. This raised the intriguing possibility of a third version, the whereabouts currently unknown. But since we already have sufficient of a puzzle with our own version, that one will have to wait!

Here we come to the heart of our mystery. The most likely suggestion is that our portrait is the one
intended for Prince Rupert. His connection to Ashdown House, via his mother Elizabeth, the Winter Queen, and as a friend of Lord Craven makes this plausible. Again, we can guess at why the portrait was never completed. It was painted in wartime, the fortunes of the Royalists were falling apart and there simply wasn’t time. As for the names, they were painted on – incorrectly - in the Victorian period.

Until we can find proof of the painting’s history we cannot be sure. But I do love a good mystery and I feel the plot of another timeslip story shaping up!

As a footnote, today is the 397th anniversary of the coronation of Elizabeth of Bohemia, whom I wrote about in House of Shadows. Here’s a toast to Her Majesty!

Saturday, November 05, 2016

Georgette Heyer: the problem with 'April Lady'


I’ve always loved the novels of Georgette Heyer for their wit, well-researched period detail, terrific story-telling and escapist fun. And I am not alone. When, in June 2015, I went to the Blue Plaque ceremony at 103 Woodside, Wimbledon, where she was born, Stephen Fry, a great fan, did the honours, opened the red curtains to reveal the plaque and spoke enthusiastically of Georgette Heyer’s stylish and witty novels. He’d discovered them at school and has loved them ever since; he finds them great comfort reading if ever he’s under the weather. 

 


Georgette Heyer by Howard Coster, 1939, National Portrait Gallery

There were many appreciative messages from people who couldn’t be there, including Antonia Byatt and Nigella Lawson.

I also met Professor Mark Noble from Aberdeen University (an authority on the science of the cardiovascular system), who’d come down from Scotland especially for the ceremony. He’d been given a Georgette Heyer to read when recovering from flu as a teenager, and has been a fan ever since. He looked very dapper, as befitted the occasion – I’m sure Georgette Heyer, very stylish herself, would have approved.

 

Professor Mark Noble awaiting the ceremony

So why am I having a problem with April Lady when so many eminent people probably disagree? It has more or less the same plot as The Convenient Marriage (1934); and the heroine, Nell, is rather too quiet and subdued. Her personal problems (debt, her husband’s supposed mistress, thinking he doesn’t love her, and so on) make it difficult for her to be proactive. As a novelist myself, I can see the technical problems here.  

However, I can cope with all this. What I find very difficult, though, is that, in the last few pages of the book, the hero Giles, Nell’s estranged husband, allows his very young and flighty half-sister, Letty, to marry the proper but ineligible Jeremy, and go with him to Brazil of all places. Letty is headstrong, self-centred, spends money like water (fortunately, she’s an heiress) and, frankly, is a pain.

 


 Stephen Fry speaks before pulling the cord

Jeremy Allandale is a very proper young man of good, but impecunious, family. He has a mother and sisters to support, and must make his own way in the world. When he’s offered a position (he’s in the Foreign Office) as a secretary in Rio de Janiero, he accepts it. It’s a step up for him but it means he will be in Brazil for a couple of years.

Very sensibly, Giles has hitherto refused to allow an engagement between Letty and Jeremy. She, after all, is only seventeen when the story opens. So why does he backtrack in the last few pages and allow them to marry and Letty to sail to Brazil with Jeremy?

First edition cover for 'April Lady'. My own copy is a first edition, costing 45p

It’s bonkers! She doesn’t speak Portuguese, she’ll know nobody, she won’t have a clue how to go on in diplomatic circles (crucial if Jeremy is going to get on in his career), or how to run a house or organize servants, and she is completely ignorant about money. What happens when she gets pregnant?  Remember, Jeremy will be at work all day.

 


Yours truly outside 103 Woodside. Georgette Heyer's family on stairs behind.
 
When I was a teenager, none of this worried me; I just thought that Nell and Giles would be relieved to be free of the constant worry about what Letty was getting up to.

Nowadays, I think that Giles abandoning his responsibilities towards Letty is disgraceful. OK, she is tiresome, badly-brought up, etc. but she is very young, and, like it or not, he is responsible for her.

 
Blue Plaque revealed
 
So, I've invented a scene where Giles asks Jeremy’s sensible mother to have Letty to stay with her while Jeremy is away. Jeremy describes Mrs Allandale thus: ‘Her understanding is superior, her mind of an elevated order, and her firm yet tender command over my sisters encouraged me to hope that over my darling also her influence would prevail.’ 

This is exactly what Letty needs. And, in return, Giles and Nell will give Jeremy’s sisters a splendid Season. I offer this in some trepidation but I cannot be the only person to find Giles’ behaviour here worrying. And I doubt if I’m the only novelist to invent further scenes featuring characters from her inimitable novels.

Photos by Elizabeth Hawksley apart from the first. 

Elizabeth Hawksley
 

Thursday, November 03, 2016

Melinda Hammond's Brand New Story on an Age-old Theme






The latest anthology in the Regency Romantics series is now published, containing six wonderful romances from myself and five fellow authors. My contribution to this edition is a brand new Regency romance, but I confess it is based on a very familiar theme.

Is there anyone who doesn't like the story of Cinderella?  It is certainly one of my favourite fairy tales and a re-working seemed perfect for this winter collection. Waldo, Duke of Charingden is reluctant to marry so his family decide they will bring  a selection of eligible ladies to the winter ball for him to choose from. Of course, nothing goes to plan, and Waldo becomes  entangled with the very ineligible young woman staying at Dove Cottage. Here is a short excerpt for you. I hope you enjoy it!

Waldo has just stepped out of his drawing room for a breath of air....

          And there, dancing on the snow-covered grass, was the girl he had met in the woods yesterday. She was so caught up with the dance that she did not see him and he stood for a moment, watching her. The strains of the piano music floated out into the still night air and she was turning and swaying, her cloak swirling around her. Then she swung around and saw him on the terrace and she stopped, her eyes widening in apprehension.
'Do not run away,' he ordered, when she turned to flee. He ran lightly down the steps and as he approached she slowly turned back towards him.
'I beg your pardon, I meant no harm,' she said breathlessly.
'Who are you?' he asked her. 'And tell me the truth this time. I mean no disrespect to the Goodliffes but I doubt any relative of theirs ever learned to dance like that.'
He watched as she caught her full bottom lip between her teeth.
'You are right, sir, I was given a good schooling, but I am an orphan, and my circumstances are now such that I am forced to throw myself upon the Misses Goodliffes' generosity. Miss Harriet was my nurse, you see, and I knew she would not turn me away. However, to avoid any awkward explanations I decided to remain here as their niece.'
'And not content with frightening my horse I find you spying upon my guests,' he said. 'You have no permission to collect sticks from here.'
          'No.' She hung her head. 'Your housekeeper sent over the remains of a game pie for our dinner and I promised Miss Hannah that I would return the dish. The snow and the moon made it light as day, so I thought I would bring it back tonight, rather than wait for the morning. Then I heard the music.' She glanced up at him. 'I love to dance,' she said simply. 'It is the one thing I have missed most since I came to Dove Cottage. I did not think you would mind if I just watched, through the window. But then, I just could not stop myself from dancing, too.'
She was looking so wistful that he came to a decision.
'Come along.'
He took her hand and she said in some alarm, 'What are you doing?'
'If you want to dance, you shall come inside and join us.'
'No, no, I cannot.' She dug in her heels and held back. 'Pray, your Grace, let me go.'
'But why? There is time for you to join in with one dance, at least.'
'No, no, I pray you, sir, do not humiliate me so!'
The anguished note in her voice made him stop.
'I have no wish to upset you,' he said gently.
'I should never have come here. Oh, your Grace, I beg your pardon.'
'Very well, I shall not force you to come indoors if you do not wish it.' Looking down into her face, pale and beautiful in the moonlight, a madness came over Waldo. 'But since you are here it is a pity to waste the music.' He pulled her closer. 'We shall tread a measure here, on the lawn.'
Distress was replaced by suspicion and a sudden contraction of her brows.
'Now you are making a May-game of me.'
Not at all. I am deadly serious. Well?' He smiled, at his most charming. 'Listen, another dance is starting. A waltz.' He took her hands. 'Come along, Clara, dance with me.'
'This is ridiculous.'
'Humour me.'

He was smiling down at her and Clara found it impossible to look away. His warm, strong fingers were wrapped around her hands and when he moved she followed him, dancing to the faint, sweet strains of the pianoforte that drifted out on the still night air. He led her through the dance, moving with a lithe grace as they glided across the lawn while the full moon hung like a silver lamp in the night sky. Clara forgot that she was wearing a red flannel petticoat beneath her old dimity gown, forgot the outdoor boots on her feet and the woollen cloak around her shoulders. She felt like a princess, dressed in the finest silks, skipping and twirling around the ballroom. The duke was still smiling and she found herself smiling too, laughing aloud as the joy of the music swelled within her. He lifted her hands high for the final rotation but at that moment a dip in the lawn caught Clara unawares. She stumbled and would have fallen if the duke had not caught her in his arms and pulled her against the hard wall of his chest.
She laughed up at him, breathing in the mixture of crisp, cold air, freshly laundered linen and a spicy rich scent. Then the glow in his eyes deepened and she could not breathe at all. She felt hot, giddy. Her heart was beating so hard she felt sure he must hear it. When he lowered his head she did not draw back, instead she turned her face up to meet him, her lips slightly parted. His kiss was soft, gentle as a breeze, but it sent a bolt of excitement zinging through to her core and she found herself reaching up, pushing up on her toes to prolong the moment.
When he ended the kiss and raised his head, she felt bereft. He was gazing down at her, a faint, puzzled frown creasing his brow and suddenly the chill night air rushed in, bringing her back to the reality of her situation. The duke was clearly ashamed of what he had done, disgusted with himself for kissing someone he saw as little better than a servant. And she had kissed him back! No respectable young lady would ever do such a thing. Tears were threatening. She must leave, before she made even more of a fool of herself.
She stepped away from him.
'Oh, I beg your pardon.'
Her anguished whisper hung on the night air.
'Clara, I – '
As he reached out for her she whisked herself out of reach, turned and fled.

***


Melinda Hammond
www.melindahammond.com

Candlelight Courtships is available now for you to enjoy from Amazon, with six spell-binding romances from Elizabeth Bailey, Monica Fairview, Amanda Grange, Fenella J Miller, Wendy Soliman and Melinda Hammond!


Wednesday, October 26, 2016

A Fast-paced Romp in the new Candlelight Courtships Regency Romantics anthology

It’s exciting to be releasing yet another new Regency in the winter anthology continuing the Regency Romantics series put out by myself and five fellow friends and novelists. I have a soft spot for this one. A Winter’s Madcap Escapade is a fast-paced romp and I’m hoping it will entertain readers as much as I enjoyed writing it.
The premise was all I had to begin with, an idea floating around for some years. A gentleman re-enters his coach to find a young damsel within who insists – at pistol point – that he take her to the next posting stage. By the time I came to write it I had a ready-made hero in Alexander Dymond who makes his first appearance as the friend and cousin of the hero Justin in the second story (A Chance Gone By) of my new Brides by Chance series.
As for Appoline, she leapt onto my stage like a crazy little whirlwind without warning or pause for thought. She was a delight to write and her antics drive Alex up the wall as he informs her several times. But all is not sweetness and light. There are skeletons in cupboards, heartache and a good deal of darkness before the dawning of an impossible happy ending.
We join our hero and heroine just after their journey together begins:

“I’m not running away. I am going to London to see the lawyer.”
Alexander began to feel a touch light-headed. What had he got himself mixed up in? Why had he let the wench persuade him into this?
“I must have taken leave of my senses,” he muttered. A tiny giggle drew his attention. He cocked an eyebrow. “Find that amusing? Suppose I should count myself fortunate if I don’t come out of this with a charge of kidnapping.”
“Oh, it will not come to that, sir. I shall slip out at the next stage and no one will know I was ever in your carriage.”
For a moment, Alexander allowed himself the luxury of relief, but it was short-lived. Under no circumstances could he let the silly chit go off on her own. She’d come to grief in no time. Best to keep this reflection to himself for the moment. Didn’t want her doing something idiotic, like trying to jump from the coach. She’d shown herself capable of any sort of crazy conduct.
“What’s your name?”
A wary look entered her face. “Why should I tell you?”
“Why shouldn’t you? Considering the way you were willing to trust yourself to a strange man, can’t see why you’d balk at telling me your name.”
“I didn’t trust you! Besides, I had the pistol.”
“Which wasn’t loaded, birdwit.”
“How dare you call me birdwit?”
“What else am I to call you if I don’t know your name?”
“Well, it’s Apple.”
Alexander let out a snorting laugh. “Wish you won’t be so stubborn! Apple? No one’s called Apple.”
Her eyes flashed. “I am called Apple. It’s my papa’s fault. He began it when I was a child and it stuck.”
“Oh, it’s a pet name? What’s your real name?”
“It’s Appoline, if you must know. Appoline Greenaway.”
“Ah, I see. Makes a bit more sense now.” He doffed his hat and made a little bow. “Miss Greenaway. I’m Dymond. Alexander Dymond. M’friends call me Alex.”
She inclined her head in a manner that struck him as a touch imperious. He tried not to laugh. A little out of place for a girl of her class. Though was it?
“What’s your station, Miss Greenaway? I mean, who was your father?”
“John Greenaway.”
“That tells me a lot.”
Miss Greenaway huffed a little. “I don’t see why I should tell you anything.”
“Suit yourself. Only I can’t help you if I don’t know the half of it.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “Why should you wish to help me?”
“Well, if that don’t beat all! Didn’t you throw yourself on my mercy?”
“No, I did not. I merely asked you to convey me a little way in your coach. That does not give you the right to demand the history of my life.”
“First off, you didn’t ask me. You ordered me at gunpoint. Second, if you don’t stop trying to run rings round me, I’ll set you down in the middle of the countryside and leave you there.”
Miss Greenaway’s obstinate little chin came up. “No, you won’t. You are not that sort of man.”
                                                                       
***


There are five more sparkling Regencies to enjoy in this anthology, which is available now from now from Amazon UK  and Amazon US as well as all other Amazons. Keep checking the blog over the coming weeks to find out more about the rest of the stories  included in the set.


Tuesday, October 18, 2016

Candlelight Courtships: Regency Romantics Winter Edition 2016


It’s always exciting to have a new release and Candlelight Courtships, our Regency Romantics Winter 2016 set, is just out. This 6-book set set contains some old books and some new ones to entertain you over the autumn and winter months. We decided to call it a winter set this year, instead of a Christmas set, because not all of the books are about Christmas (although some of them are). My contribution, One Night at the Abbey, begins in October when autumn is slowly giving way to winter. It was previously published as Carisbrooke Abbey by Robert Hale Ltd. It’s a bit different from my earlier Regency romances because it has something of a Gothic feel to it, with the heroine going to work at a remote abbey. She has a job close to my heart because she is in charge of Lord Carisbrooke’s extensive library. This causes some friction, because when Lord Carisbrooke appointed her, he thought she was Mr Wentworth, and not Miss Wentworth! 


The mix-up occurs because he appoints her by letter, and once he discovers the truth he wants to send her packing – except it is a very wild night and not even the mysterious Lord Carisbrooke can bring himself to turn Hilary out in the storm! Their first meeting takes place in the woods. Hilary is walking to the abbey when the storm brings a tree crashing down. It catches her a glancing blow and Lord Carisbrooke finds her with her foot trapped beneath it. As Hilary tries to free her foot, she hears a noise and this is what happens next:

     Looking up, she gasped. A large, bulky shape was standing there. It was huge and shaggy, some kind of wild animal . . . a bear, rearing up on its hind legs! Shocked, she tried to struggle free . . . until another flash of lightning lit the scene, and she saw that the dark shape was not a bear at all, but a man. She could be forgiven for her mistake, for he was tall and broad, and with his grizzled hair he looked wild and savage.
     ‘Hell’s teeth!’ he ground out. ‘What are you doing in the wood?’
     His ungracious words dispelled her fear and stung her to make a sharp retort. ‘That is none of your business.’
     ‘Oh, isn’t it?’ he growled.
     ‘No, it is not.’ Focusing on her anger, which helped her to take her mind from the pain, she went on. ‘So if you would just help me to free my foot —’
     ‘Oh! So that is my business,’ he returned churlishly.
     ‘You are right, it isn’t,’ she said, biting her lip. ‘Very well, then, if you are not going to make yourself useful, you had better be on your way.’
     ‘Harumph!’
     The sound came out gruffly, but another flash of lightning tore open the sky, and to Hilary’s surprise she saw that there was a glint of respect in his eye. Her spirited retort had done her no harm with him and she was grateful. She had spoken without thinking, and it would have been disastrous if he had taken her at her word.
     He turned his attention away from her and fixed it on the tree. After examining it for a few minutes he bent down and took hold of the crown. Then, flexing his huge shoulders, he lifted it from the ground.
     Hilary seized the moment and pulled her foot free. She ought to thank him, but he had helped her with such a bad grace that she was reluctant to do so. Good breeding got the better of her baser instincts, however, and she muttered an unwilling, ‘Thank you.’
     ‘Don’t mention it.’
     And why was he so bad-tempered? she wondered, hearing his gruff tone. It wasn’t as though he had spent the last hour tramping through the rain, trying to find an elusive abbey, and had then been knocked down by a tree!
     But whatever the reason, it was not her concern. She had other things to worry about.
She turned her attention back to her foot. It was difficult to see how badly it had been injured. The lightning had retreated and the stormy day was once more dark, but her ankle was sore and it was starting to throb.
     The bear-like man crouched down in front of her. Before she could stop him, he lifted her foot onto his knee. She winced, expecting him to hurt her, but his touch was strangely gentle. Though his hands were large they possessed a delicacy she had not expected. His fingers were long and broad, and they were weather beaten, showing the brown hue of a man who spent much of his life out of doors. As he ran his hands over her kid boot, searching it deftly for a sign of any broken bones, to her surprise she felt her foot began to tingle. It was an unusual sensation, and yet pleasant. Better still, it seemed to blot out the pain.

                                                                   ***
The set is available now from Amazon UK  and  Amazon US as well as all other Amazons. Check out the blog over the coming weeks to find out more about the other books included in the set.



Thursday, October 13, 2016

Veiled In Blue


I have to talk about my new release today. In the past, I used to find it really hard to get the word out about new books, but somebody said to me, “If they don’t know it’s there, they can’t buy it,” and by jingo, she was right.
But this is a bit more than a “buy my book” which I still don’t like doing.
While Veiled In Blue is the sixth book in a series, it can be read as a standalone. It’s part of a series because there’s a theme and a family underlying the whole series, but the theme is easy enough. It’s part of my “Emperors of London” series, about a family’s secret fight against the people who would put the Stuarts back on the throne.
In search of one of the secret children of the Old Pretender, the startlingly named Julius Caesar, Lord Winterton, drops the title and slips into the little village of Appleton, where he meets his fate. Eve Merton is the daughter of the last vicar of Appleton, and she lives in genteel poverty with her mother. Originally Eve had a sister, but she got so whiny and didn’t actually do anything, so I got rid of her. Because that’s how I roll. I was sorry for her, but she had to go.
Anyway, after an excruciating journey to the village, where Eve has an unfortunate effect on Julius, he gets to work. In the small community he discovers spies and highwaymen, and renews his friendship with his cousin Alex, who has retired to a grand house nearby with his wife. He has his hands full, not least with Eve.
Every time I start these books I have a detailed plan. Then, when I get about halfway through, I have to stop and re-plan. In this one, I had to keep Julius and Eve’s hands off one another, which was something of a shock. But I had to cope with her, and accommodate her. People often ask how much sex to put into a book, and if there should be sex in historicals at all, and sometimes mine are a bit sexier than the norm. I can only say that I let my characters control that part of their lives. In some of my books, they don’t get it on for a long time, and in others, they’re at it like bunnies. Since Julius is a gentleman, and Eve doesn’t trust her feelings, I managed to keep them apart, but sometimes I felt like a referee in a boxing ring, separating them!
There’s only one more book in this series to go, and then it’s taking a break.
However…
I am writing a trilogy about the Strenshalls, another part of the Emperors of London family. In this series, “Those Scandalous Shaws,” they don’t concentrate on discovering the children of the Old Pretender, but they have other problems to solve. But that’s for next year. Now here’s the information about “Veiled In Blue.”
I thank you.

The Emperors of London, Book 6

Buy the Book and read an extract:
Publisher – Kensington Books
Amazon USA
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It is up to the Emperors of London to protect the throne—without risking their hearts…Governess Eve Merton would have fallen into serious trouble on her walk home if a handsome stranger had not stopped to help her. But when Mr. Vernon gives her a lift on his horse, he makes no secret of his attraction. As a well brought-up young lady, Eve does her best not to notice, but when he sets about courting her, she knows she’s in trouble. For she has a secret: she is the daughter of a deposed king, which means not only is she without a dowry, but also that her life is in danger…
Little does Eve know that Mr. Vernon has secrets of his own. In truth, his name is Julius, Lord Winterton, and he’s well aware that Eve is the offspring of the Old Pretender. In order to save his sister, he must convince Eve to wed—though he wants nothing to do with love. But as the two grow closer and an attempt is made on Eve’s life, Julius may realize that fighting his heart’s true desire is a battle most pleasurably surrendered…

Click here to read Chapter One


Sunday, October 09, 2016

A Most Unusual Christmas

This is my latest release - it was in the Regency Romantics Christmas box set last year. J D Smith always produces an excellent cover for me.
This year's title for The Regency Romantics is called 'A Most Unexpected Christmas'. So far I've managed to muddle the titles and covers twice - and have just realised the cover, I inadvertently had designed for next year's single release, shows a summer scene when the book takes place in the snow. I shall get J D Smith to change the title and use this for another book.

Here is the opening scene:

December 1815

‘Mama, Amanda, you must be freezing. It’s damnably cold in here.’ Guy gathered up the fur from his knees and carefully tucked it around his sister and his mother.
‘It’s been snowing for the past hour, Bromley, should we not have stopped at the last inn and taken shelter from the blizzard?’ Harry, his junior by eight years and heir to his earldom and vast estates, shifted his weight and the carriage rocked.
‘Sit still, Harry, you’ll have us in the ditch,’ Amanda snapped. ‘Mama, I’m going to cast up my accounts if I do not get out of this carriage immediately.’ His sister was an indifferent traveller and had been begging him to curtail their journey for this past hour.
He sincerely regretted agreeing to spend the Christmas period with his uncle in Suffolk when the weather was so inclement. They would have been better to remain at home in Hertfordshire, but his siblings and mama had been determined to celebrate Christ’s name day with their cousins where there would be parties and jollity. For his maternal uncle Christmas was enjoyed in the old-fashioned way. Since his wife had died from the wasting sickness two years ago there had been nothing to celebrate at Bromley Court.
Guy leaned over and was about to unhook the leather strap that held the window when his world turned upside down. As the carriage tumbled sideways he braced himself against the sides and prayed his family would suffer no serious harm from the accident.
His sister’s scream ripped the air and then he was crushed beneath a tangle of arms and legs as the vehicle settled, with an ominous crack on its side.
‘Everyone, remain still, don’t try and get up until I can discover exactly what has occurred.’
‘Bromley, you nincompoop, we’ve overturned, even I know that.’ Harry’s voice came from the other side of the carriage.
‘Mama, Amanda, are you hurt?’ Guy carefully removed his right hand from the side of the carriage and gently touched the inert form resting on his chest. This meant him taking the weight entirely on his left arm. He was fairly sure it was his sister who was crushed against him and she was disturbingly still.
‘I am unhurt, Bromley, I landed on top of your brother and he broke my fall. Why isn’t Amanda speaking to us?’
‘She’s unconscious, Mama, but from my investigation I think her merely stunned.’ He had no idea if this was the case, but thought it wise not to send his mother into a conniption fit.
The clattering and noise that had been coming from the horses stopped and Fred, his head coachman, banged on the side of the coach. ‘My lord, you must keep still, the carriage is perilously balanced above a deep ditch. The axle broke and this tipped us over.’
‘Understood. Use the horses to pull the carriage upright, but be quick, Lady Amanda is injured.’
‘There’s a drive leading to a big house – I’ve sent Tom on one of the horses to fetch help. We’ll have you all out of there right smart, my lord.’
‘Excellent. Are the horses unharmed?’
‘Yes, my lord, but I fear the carriage is done for.’
Amanda groaned and tried to move. ‘Hush, little one, you must remain still. We shall be out of here soon and in the warm.’
As he spoke he was aware that icy water was already seeping through the door and his heavy travelling coat was becoming unpleasantly wet. He daren’t move as this might tip the carriage further into the ditch. ‘Harry, I shall need you and mama to move backwards very slowly in a minute. Be ready to stop if we start to slide further into the ditch.’
His back was already wet and if he didn’t get himself clear of the water he feared his sister would soon be damp as well as concussed.
‘Fred, tie the harness to the wheels and get the remaining animals to take the strain. We cannot wait for help to arrive. We must do something now.’
His coachman shouted his agreement and a few minutes later the coach rocked and then it slowly moved towards the road. ‘Right, my lord, all secure, you won’t tip no further.’
‘Harry, Mama, roll towards the road. Do it now.’ Guy placed one arm around his sister and then threw his considerable weight forward. The carriage groaned and creaked as if alive and slowly righted itself. They were now jammed into the well of the carriage and his sister was still not fully conscious. He had managed to protect her as the vehicle rolled and was sure she had suffered no further harm.
The door opened and Fred pulled down the steps and assisted his mother to her feet. His brother had remained where he was.
‘I didn’t want to say anything, Bromley, but I’m damned if I haven’t broken my leg.’
‘Stay where you are, old fellow, I’ll hand Amanda out and then we can see to you.’
A tall, young man stepped forward through the blizzard and held out his arms to receive Amanda’s semi-conscious body. ‘Allow me, sir, I’m Richard Hadley, I live at the Abbey. I can hold her until help arrives.’
Guy handed his sister across. ‘Here, Hadley, wrap her in this fur. There are several others in here, would you be kind enough to give them to my mother?’
Once he was sure his family were as warm and safe as they could be in the circumstances Guy turned his attention to his brother. From the angle of his leg it was a nasty break and moving him without doing further damage was going to be all but impossible.
The snow was muffling all sound and he doubted if he’d hear rescue approaching until it arrived. He strained his ears and was certain there was a horse approaching at a gallop. Tom reined in and told them a carriage was on its way.
‘Return to the house, Tom, tell them my brother has broken his leg and will require a trestle to get him to safety.’
The boy touched his cap and disappeared into the swirling whiteness.
*
Cressida was gazing out of the window at the flurries of snow. ‘I think this year we’ll have a white Christmas, Papa, it’s already settling.’
Her father, Colonel John Hadley, peered at her over his newspaper. ‘I shall have to cancel our New Year ball if that’s the case.’
Sarah, her younger sister by three years, jumped to her feet and ran to the window. ‘It might be pretty, but I hate the snow. I shan’t be able to ride and we shall have no visitors at all until it goes.’
‘Where is your brother? I’ve not seen him since last night.’
She and Sarah exchanged a worried glance. ‘I believe he stayed in the village, Papa, some of his friends from Oxford were passing through.’
‘As long as it’s not those rackety fellows from London – they will lead Richard into further mischief and I might not be able to extricate him next time.’
Cressida was about to turn away when Sarah clutched her arm. ‘Look, there’s a youth in livery galloping down the drive. If I’m not mistaken he’s riding a carriage horse.’
Immediately her father was on his feet. ‘There must have been an accident. Girls, inform the housekeeper that we need chambers preparing.’ He strode from the room to organise a rescue.
Cressida hurried after him eager to hear how many visitors they might expect. ‘I sincerely hope no one has been seriously hurt, the weather is worsening and I doubt anyone will get through to the doctor in the next village.’
‘Mama taught you everything she knew about healing and herbs. I doubt there’s another young lady in the county who could set a bone or stitch a wound the way you can.’ Papa smiled down at her.
‘Sarah, please find Miller whilst I prepare my basket and arrange for hot water to be fetched.’ She paused as something occurred to her. ‘I think it might be wise to have the downstairs apartment made ready in case anyone is seriously injured. It will be far easier to nurse them down here. Don’t forget there will be servants as well as the travellers to provide for.’
Her sister ran off – there was no need to remind her about warning their head groom – Sarah preferred animals to humans and her first concern would be for the horses. Since their beloved mama had died three years ago it had fallen to Cressida to take over the running of the household and all thought of having a Season had been put to one side.
For Cressida this had been a relief more than anything else for she had been dreading spending several months being ogled and crushed at a variety of routs and balls. Papa wished Sarah to make her come out in March next year – at eighteen years of age she would be a year or two older than most debutantes – but her sister was equally reluctant to go to London and be paraded like a prize heifer in front of suitable bachelors.
As she passed through the impressive entrance hall, Grimshaw, the butler, opened the front door and an icy blast of snow and wind filled the space. She waited in order to hear exactly what had transpired at the end of the drive. Knowing the extent of any injuries that had been sustained would make her task much easier.
The young coachman refused to come in after delivering his message and vaulted onto his waiting horse and thundered off down the drive again. Her father appeared, in his riding coat and beaver, on the gallery and came down the steps three at a time.
‘Earl Bromley, Lady Bromley, his mother, and his brother and sister were in the coach that overturned. Lady Amanda appears to be the only one injured, which is a relief. I shall leave Miller to arrange suitable accommodation for our unexpected guests.’
‘I’m sending a carriage to collect them, my dear, and I’ll accompany it. It’s damned dark outside and barely two o’clock. Get Cook to bring dinner forward – no doubt they’ll be sharp-set after this mishap and want to eat as soon as possible.’
‘They will be without their luggage and will require fresh garments. However, I’ll have to wait until I meet this family of aristocrats before finding them something suitable.’
‘I expect they’ll need personal servants too, get Grimshaw to find somebody for the earl and his brother, and Miller can do the same for the ladies.’
He strode off to the side door which led directly to the stables leaving her to hurry to her still room at the rear of the house. It was here that she prepared the concoctions and tisanes she prescribed for both indoor and outdoor staff. Possibly she would have been burned as a witch two hundred years ago, but nowadays most people were more enlightened.
The local physician was in his dotage and still believed that everything could be cured by bleeding. For this reason her mother had taken over the task of doctoring on their estate and had passed on her extensive knowledge to Cressida.
By the time she had assembled the things she thought she might need a quarter of an hour had passed. She carried a basket to the downstairs apartment that had been occupied by her grandfather. Whilst her father had been fighting the French, her mother and her siblings had remained with Grandfather. When the war ended last year Papa had finally come home to take over the estate which had been run in his absence by a highly competent estate manager.
Her eyes filled as she recalled the dreadful winter three years ago when Mama had died from the putrid sore throat. Her father had not heard of her demise until they were out of mourning and by then there was little point in him returning.
Richard had been sent down from Oxford shortly after Mama died and since then had fallen from one scrape to another. His intention had been to join papa’s regiment, but new officers were not needed now Bonaparte was safely captured. Where was he? Why hadn’t he returned last night?
She pushed her concerns aside; her brother was a grown man and capable of taking care of himself. She must concentrate on helping the occupants from the coach. Although the building had been in the Hadley family for generations, they were not part of the elite that ruled the country. They had no wish to be ennobled and kept well away from politics. The thought of having such top lofty folk staying with them over the Christmas period filled her with foreboding.
The house was bustling with maids and footmen fetching and carrying items for the underused apartment downstairs. This had been under holland covers since her grandfather had died and she hoped the rooms would not be damp.
Miller was directing operations and Cressida was pleased to see that fires had been lit and the chambers were no longer below freezing.
‘The beds are made and warming pans have been passed through. I’ve cleared the table by the washstand for you, Miss Hadley; will that be sufficient for your needs?’
‘Thank you, Miller, you’ve thought of everything. I expect Lord Bromley and his family will be here shortly. As soon as we can see their size and shape we can find them fresh clothes.’
‘I’ve already found nightshirts and nightgowns, underpinnings and wraps – I can have everything else collected as soon as they arrive. I’ve put Earl Bromley in the best apartment, the Dowager Lady Bromley next door to him and everything is also ready in the smaller guest chamber. Until we know who is going to be sleeping down here, I cannot complete my preparations.’
Cressida put down her basket as the housekeeper was speaking and began to arrange the things she thought she might need. ‘There must be at least two coachmen and they will need accommodation outside with our grooms and gardeners.’
‘Miss Sarah has seen to that. It’s a good thing the pantries are wellstocked because of the Christmas festivities, I doubt that anyone will be able to deliver extra provisions until the snow has gone.’
Once she was sure everything was as prepared as it could be Cressida ran upstairs and put on her stout boots, muffler and cape just in case she was required to go outside and assist when the carriage returned. She was on her way downstairs when there was a second hammering on the door.
Grimshaw spoke briefly to the person on the doorstep and then turned to her. ‘Lord Bromley’s brother has broken his leg. They want a trestle to carry him back here.’
‘Send word outside. I must go too, have my horse saddled whilst I collect what I need.’

Is it too early to wish you Happy Christmas?  Thought so.
Fenella J Miller