Tag: Romance

Pink cover with blonde woman and dark haired man in a clench.
Romance

Loving Echo excerpt

CmdrSue

Chapter One

February 1815

Derbyshire

Justin Miller made his way up to the hayloft with a lantern and Samantha’s letter. He hadn’t seen her in two years, but she still wrote to him every few months. He was sure she wrote to everyone she knew in Derbyshire, as she was blessed with an open, sunny heart that had room for all. He missed her rather keenly. 

Acceptance wasn’t something he had much of in this life, as the bastard son of a peer. His father only marginally acknowledged him, allowing him to work in the stables rather than completely turn him out, while his eldest half-brother simply ignored him. His middle half-brother was at least convivial, but Charlie Bittlesworth had a kind word for everyone, so it didn’t seem particularly special. He knew he had his half-sister’s staunch support, but Sabrina Bittlesworth was both exacting and judgmental.

The servants, meanwhile, never knew quite what to do with him. He wasn’t one of them, yet he wasn’t one of the nobles either. His mother had been common, but her family all left the area before he’d been old enough to know them. She’d died in childbirth and his uncle had run off after insisting that the viscount acknowledge him, so he had no other local relations. There was nowhere that he quite fit.

Samantha Walters, however, was full of love for every poor little creature in the fields and streams of Derbyshire. He’d always hoped, dreamed, that meant she had a smidgen of love for him. He’d certainly never been shy about how much he admired her. It had been a long-held joke among their households that Justin was in love with her, and Sam would always laugh, teasing, “Why wouldn’t he be?” And indeed, why wouldn’t he be? She was beautiful, with her golden hair and soft blue eyes. More importantly, at least to Justin, she was the sweetest person he knew. She loved everything. Animals, seasons, colors, the way the light fell in the afternoon, the moon, dancing, playing games. It was an endless list, but Justin remembered all of it, because everything had been more enchanting when seen through Sam’s eyes. She had a way of seeing things, and people, that kept him from losing all hope in life.

When last she’d left for London, as her older sister was starting her second Season and Sam herself would be preparing for her own soon enough, she’d teased him, “If none of the men in London come up to scratch, I suppose I will just have to marry you.” He’d assumed she didn’t mean anything by it. She was precisely what every gentleman in London should want, and everyone knew she would have her pick of suitors. Perhaps with her generous heart she’d known that he needed some small flicker of hope, something to carry him through these interminable years without her presence.

He settled down into a corner with her letter. He always found a solitary spot to do so, as it almost felt like she was with him, as though an echo of her voice rang in his ear, a memory of her laughter and teasing grin just beyond the arc of his lantern. He always answered her letters promptly, never wanting her to feel like she was bothering him or that he would ignore her. He would never ignore Samantha.

My dearest Justin, 

Well, Jackie has married her earl. Truly, you wouldn’t believe the effect he has had on her. For days she would drift around the house, staring off into the distance and scribbling in a little journal. I peeked in it once and it had lists of things like his properties and furnishings. Can you imagine! Then when I would say she was in love with him, she would get so angry. Methinks she doth protest too much!

But the wedding this morning – Justin I’m so sorry that you missed it. Jackie was simply lovely in a dark green velvet dress that the earl sent over last night. Jackie didn’t want to wear it because, well, she’s Jackie, and when has she ever wanted to do anything that anyone told her to do? And the earl. Oh my, I’m not sure when I’ve seen a more handsome man. He has this roguish look about him. That’s good, I suppose. Jackie always did like wild and dangerous things.

They’ve set off for Kent. Would you, could you, be so good as to take Jackie her trunks? I’m sure she will be lonely, and a bit at sea in some stuffy old estate. I do think that they will settle in after a time, but they haven’t known each other all that long and everything there will be his. It would mean a great deal to me if you would do that. The estate is known as Kellington.

Prior to finding her earl, Jackie had been making noises about becoming an old maid. She said that once she reached her majority, she would be able to take her investment funds, and perhaps her dowry if father would release it, and live on her own. Can one truly do that? What age is one’s majority?

Please give my love to all in Derbyshire. Has Philomena had her foal yet? I imagine she is fatter than Baker Hudson.

Yours truly, 

Samantha

March 1815

Dearest Samantha,

I’m glad that your letter indicates you are in good spirits. May I surmise that your parents are well? Certainly your mother is thrilled that Jack married an earl. Being the mother of a countess will raise her own standing when you all come home.

Of course I will be pleased to deliver Jack’s trunks to her and will leave within a fortnight if the weather is promising.

Philomena hasn’t foaled yet, but I suspect she will before I leave. 

And I will not advise Baker Hudson of your comparison, since that would mean you would never have his cakes again. At least, not without me smuggling them to you.

Tell your mother that as spring approaches, I am already desperately missing her lemon biscuits, the only thing I’ve ever had to rival Baker Hudson’s cakes.

Yours truly,

Justin

p.s. I almost forgot your question. In England a woman may own personal property once she reaches the age of one and twenty if she is unmarried. That is probably what Jack was looking forward to.

March 1815

Dearest Samantha,

I hope this letter finds you well. If you wrote to me again, I did not receive the letter before I left Derbyshire. Not only have I arrived safely at Kellington, but I have extraordinary news. The earl has hired me to be his new Parliamentary clerk! I have started my position effective immediately and will be traveling to London before the end of this month.

It is my fondest desire that I may be able to see you once I am in Town, and will call on your family in the hopes of being received.

Yours truly, 

Justin

p.s I’d almost forgotten. Philomena delivered a healthy colt the night before I left. We nicknamed him Boot since he has but one white sock, making him look like he forgot to put on one boot.

News, Romance, Teasers

New Novella coming June 4, 2024

CmdrSue

Do you like awkward heroes and heroines? I sure do. Is it because I’m awkward myself? Mayyyyyyybe. On the inside I am 100% awkward, on the outside sometimes people find me charming. Who knows.

Dancing with the Gull is about two adorably awkward people who stumble into a relationship. Is there a fake engagement? Of course. Is there misunderstanding and longing? Obviously. Is there danger? A little (but don’t worry, it all works out in the end). There are also horses, dogs, and cats. If no one draws Prince Eugene fan art I will probably do it myself!

You might remember that Lord Henry, aka Henny, was in To Woo a Rake. If you’re sharp-eyed enough you know that Lady Penelope Barshaw was mentioned, too.

An Awkward Excerpt!

Pen fanned herself. Once her mother found out, and she would find out, that Penelope dropped her fan in order to make Lord Greer talk to her, well, it wouldn’t be pleasant.

Lord Greer, meanwhile, surprised her. She’d never seen him be anything other than unfailingly polite, and when he’d baldly called her out on her brash manipulation she’d been stunned. Perhaps he didn’t need her warnings at all. If he was willing to call an Earl’s daughter on her lie then he wouldn’t have any patience at all for the petty manipulations of lesser daughters.

Part of what froze her to the spot, however, was his expression. He’d always been the image of a smiling and genial gentleman, but when she’d lied his face lost almost all warmth and he had the slightest beetling of his brows as he stared at her. He’d looked at her, really looked at her, in a way that few had before. As though he were trying to see the deeper answer of what she was saying, and that he would find it written somewhere on her soul. His vivid blue eyes were piercing in a way that she’d not expected.

The watery ratafia helped soothe her as she waited for the first strains of the waltz to begin. It felt oddly invigorating to be more herself for once while inside the terrible strictures of a typical ton ball. The only value she’d ever seen to marriage was that matrons, while bound by their own restrictions, were at least expected to have some opinions. As a girl of marriageable age she was expected to fawn and simper. She hated it. If she could have entered society already a matron, like Athena born of Zeus’s head, she would have liked it much better. The only women who had an iota of the freedom she wanted in Society were widows, but she didn’t think it seemly to marry a much older man in the simple hope that he would die that much sooner.

No, her only hope now was to withdraw from Society once she had the funds to do so. She needed no extravagances, simply a small cottage and a few horses and dogs. Well, and her books, of course. The freedom of such an arrangement would make her feel like the richest woman in the world. No more London, no more ton, no more whispered comments behind fans that were undoubtedly about her.

“Lady Penelope.”

Egads! The music was starting and Lord Greer was bowing over her hand while she was woolgathering.

“Lord Greer,” she replied, as her head was both too full and too empty to do aught else.

He led her to the dancefloor and they struck up the waltz. He held her at precisely the proper distance and she hoped she wouldn’t trip and fall into him. She’d learned that the further she had to fall, the more force with which she would strike her partner. Fortunately, he appeared sturdy enough not to find himself completely flattened by her. They were almost of a height, however, she was tall for her sex and he short for his. The immediacy of his gaze made her own wander to his shoulder.

After a bit she supposed they’d both been too concerned about the precision of the dance to even begin to speak, and she realized it might have already been two full minutes of silence between them. Alarmed, her gaze flew to his, but he seemed unbothered. His eyes really were the most extraordinary color. An intense blue that she’d only seen in flowers before.

“Lord Greer,” she said softly, considering how best to express her concerns. Since she watched him so intently she saw him give a small wince. Whether at the use of his title or something else, she didn’t know. It was no time to dither, however. “I apologize for forcing this dance upon you, but a lady has few other options for how to speak privately with a gentleman.”

“I see,” he said. Both his tone and expression were blank.

Neither encouraged nor discouraged by his response, she bullied on. “Perhaps you don’t need my interference, but I overheard some talk this evening that I thought to warn you about.”

“Oh?” His reaction was still neutral. Were she the sort of woman that preened for masculine attention she would be hurt by his reserve. Fortunately, she wasn’t that sort of woman at all.

“Yes. It seems a few young ladies, who I will not point out by name as that would make me as uncouth as they, have decided they will marry you for your money. I would advise against trusting any lady with whom you are not already familiar.”

He remained passive, making her finally question whether he was indeed a bit slow. Finally, he spoke. “War, er, Lord Sharpe warned me. That was why I promised him I would not dance with anyone tonight.”

Realizing what she’d done made her stumble. Surprisingly, his strength was sufficient to keep her upright. For once her lack of grace may not have been evident to everyone on the dance floor. 

“My apologies, Lord Greer,” she said a bit faintly. “I should have realized you had it well in hand.” Now she had the better part of twenty minutes to dance with Lord Greer and regret her rash actions. Why hadn’t she learned? Whenever something felt right and invigorating it was very much what she should not do. How often in her youth had her ire and self righteousness gotten her in exactly this sort of trouble? Shame. Awkwardness.

Grab a copy!