Maggi Andersen's Blog, page 50

Cover Reveal! What a Rake Wants, The Spies of Mayfair Series, Book Three

Released with Knox Robinson Publishing in print and e-book 26th August!
King George sends his private investigator, an Irishman, Kieran Flynn, Lord Montsimon, on a mission, the reason for which is unclear. Is it a plot against the Crown? Or something entirely unrelated?  Does the king know more than he reveals? Flynn’s inquiries lead him to the widow, Lady Althea Brookwood. Known amongst the ton as a rake, Flynn is rarely turned down by a lady, and when Althea refuses not just him but many other men, he becomes intrigued. After her neighbor, Sir Harold Crowthorne informs Althea that he means to take her country property, Owltree Cottage, by fair means or foul, she must search for help. The first man she turns to is promptly murdered and the second lies to her. That leaves Flynn, Lord Montsimon, a man she has been studiously avoiding. But Montsimon is decidedly unhelpful, and more than a little mysterious. She has little confidence that she will succeed, especially as before her husband was killed in a duel, he often told her she was quite hopeless at intimacy. When a spy is murdered, Flynn wonders just what Althea knows and what her involvement might be with the man the king wants Flynn to investigate. 
Excerpts and competition coming soon! 

5 star review for A Baron in Her Bed - The Spies of Mayfair Series Book One

Thank you, Susanna for this *****review. ‘A Baron in her Bed’ is a delightful story of romance and espionage in Regency England. The action romps from country estates to the London salons and ballrooms of the aristocracy and brings that dazzling world alive. At times I was reminded of Georgette Heyer. I found the character of Guy really attractive and Horatia is a spirited heroine, with fewer inhibitions than most of Miss Heyer’s gals. Thoroughly recommended, in fact, I’m thinking of buying a copy for my mother’s birthday.

New cover for What a Rake Wants (3rd book in the series)
coming soon. 

Men in cravats and without! Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svKWGnrbVos#t=26

New Cover! THE DUKE'S MYSTERIOUS LADY out on kindle soon.

Cover artist: Erin Dameron-Hill

Viola, so named by her benefactor, Hugh Beauchamp, Duke of Vale, has lost her memory, along with her respectability, after being found dressed in a male servant’s clothes. She is a mystery unto herself, with her knowledge of books and Latin, and her skill at the pianoforte.
The duke has found Viola a temporary home with his nanny in a cottage on his estate, while danger lurks in the shadows and darkens her dreams. Viola must leave beautiful Vale Park before Hugh marries Lady Felicity, the neighbor’s daughter; their marriage arranged when they were children. And before Viola and Hugh succumb to an impossible passion. But what fate awaits her beyond the walls of Vale Park?(First published as Rules of Conduct)
Excerpt:


A shout roused Hugh from his reverie. With a curse, the coachman hauled the horses to a stop in the narrow lane. Hugh’s manservant, Peter, jumped down from the box. “What’s amiss?” Hugh threw open the carriage door and leapt out, pistol in hand. It was years since highwaymen were seen in these parts and they’d come off the worse last time, with one man dead and the other wounded in his escape. With dusk falling, it was shadowy and dim beneath the dense canopy of leaves. “Here, Your Grace!” Peter called. “Careful, Peter!” After a quick appraisal of the bushes crowding the road, Hugh ran to join his groom.Peter was crouched beside a body lying on the road, perilously close to the horses’ plunging hooves. A trick? Hugh tightened his grip on the pistol. “Back up the horses,” he urged his coachman. “Be quick about it.” Peter grabbed the traces, and he and Jack edged the nervous horses away, their flesh quivering and their nostrils steaming in the cool air. With another glance at the silent, dark woods encroaching on both sides of the road, Hugh hunkered down beside the inert form. Gently rolling the body over, he reached into the lad’s shirt not expecting a heartbeat. Hugh pulled his hand back as if stung. “Devil take us, ’tis a woman!” As he moved her, the woman’s cap fell off and long strands of fair hair escaped, spreading over her shoulders. “Bring a lantern here.”While the coachman held the lantern high, Hugh gazed speechlessly at her. The thin material of her shirt barely concealed the thrust of firm young breasts beneath it. Pantaloons hugged her slender legs, and her bare feet were thick with grime. The shirt strings lay open across a delicate throat, where a jewel-encrusted silver locket gleamed in the lantern light. Hugh smoothed hair away from her mud-streaked face. “No sign of bleeding, but she has a bump on her head the size of an egg.” He took hold of her wrist. She was far too pale, but her pulse felt strong. “Cor, she ain’t half dirty, Your Grace.” Peter wrinkled his nose in distaste. “She smells of the barnyard.” “That she does.” Hugh slipped his arms around her shoulders and beneath her knees. With scant regard for his silk-lined, multi-caped greatcoat, he hefted her up and placed her inside the coach. She failed to stir as he tucked a traveling rug around her. “On to Vale Park, Jack.” Night fell quickly in the country. A mist-shrouded moon added its frail light to the dim coach lanterns. The young woman lay motionless, her chest rising and falling, the only sign she lived. Not so much as a flicker when Hugh chaffed her hands. He could only hope that burned feathers or smelling salts would bring her round. He turned her small hand over in his large one. Nails well cared for, skin soft and callous free. No evidence of hard labor. Not a housemaid then. A seamstress or a governess from one of the big houses in the district? What had driven her to dress as a page then? He sat back and studied her, her delicate features and long limbs, the incongruous footwear a young page would wear, from a good house by the look of it. He leaned forward and fingered the locket. Was she absconding with it? 

My Monday image is a lovely painting. Enjoy a poem.

Camille Pissaro "Hyde Park"
 (The South Carriage Drive in Victorian times)TREES Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918





I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.










        






 


 

Romantic houses of England: Stourhead

This striped Chippendale sofa makes an appearance in my novel WHAT A RAKE WANTS - The Spies of Mayfair, Book Three
It's not Lord Montsimon, but Lady Brookwood who wants it. As I confess I do myself!

The Stourton family, the Barons of Stourton had lived in the Stourhead estate for 500 years until they sold it to Sir Thomas Meres in 1714. A wealthy banker, Sir Richard Hoare then bought it in 1717. After the original manor house was demolished, Colen Campbell designed the new Palladian mansion, one of the first of its kind.

Stourhead, the estate, includes the Palladian mansion and the village of Stourton, gardens, farmland, and woodland. Henry Hugh Arthur Hoare, gave the Stourhead house and gardens to the National Trust in 1946, one year before his death. His sole heir and son, Captain 'Harry' Henry Colt Arthur Hoare, of the Queen's Own Dorset Yeomanry, had died of wounds received at the Battle of Mughar Ridge on 13 November 1917 in World War I. Captain Hoare is commemorated by a plaque on the Memorial Hall at Stourhead. The last Hoare family member to be born inside the house is Edward Hoare on 11 October 1949.Stourhead has been in the ownership of the National Trust since 1946.


Over the next 200 years the Hoare family collected many heirlooms, including a large library and art collection.
In 1902 when the house was gutted by fire, many of the heirlooms were saved, and the house rebuilt in a near identical style. 
The gardens include a man-made lake and the famous Temple of Apollo and grotto Information and images from Wikipedia and the National Trust website: Stourhead

A lost parasol.

Now isn't that gentleman going to rush to her aid?
A Victorian lady in a flowery meadow by artist, Arthur Hacker.

Historical Hearts: The History of the Bra is Older than you think!

From Marianne Theresa 

Historical Hearts: The History of the Bra is Older than you think!: It's true ladies!  New evidence has come to light, that proves the Bra came first, followed by the Corset, then the Bra again in women...

Saturday Snippet - Taming a Gentleman Spy Special price $1.99

Taming a Gentleman Spy - The Spies of Mayfair, Book Two
Saturday snippet.
 
The late afternoon sun warmed Strathairn's back as he approached the park where the Beau Monde were out in force, driving their carriages along the South Carriage Drive and riding their horses down Rotten Row.
Two women in a brougham laughed and flirted with him from beneath their lacy parasols, as they waited to enter the park in the queue of traffic. Both pretty women, he admired their lavender and yellow carriage gowns and their bonnets trimmed with flowers. He pulled his horse up alongside and doffed his hat. “Good afternoon, Lady Bakewell, Mrs. Andrews. You both are the personification of summer.”
“Thank you, Lord Strathairn, we were discussing how well you look,” said Lady Bakewell, the elder of the two. “I must say you have the finest seat on a horse I’ve seen for many a long year.”
Mrs. Andrews put her gloved hand to her mouth, unsuccessfully hiding her grin, as Strathairn bowed in the saddle and rode on.
A gallop was frowned on in the Row. Some riders cantered, others ambled along at a trot while in conversation with their companions. Strathairn greeted several acquaintances as he looked around for Sibella, but he did not find her amongst the crowd. She always rode on Wednesdays. Where was she? He suffered an annoying, disappointed jolt.
Amazon:
All my books including the Mayfair spies are on special this weekend for $1.99 at Knox Robinson Publishing.
Buy:

English Historical Fiction Authors: Make Yourself at Home in a Georgian Town House

English Historical Fiction Authors: Make Yourself at Home in a Georgian Town House: by Maria Grace   Terrace Homes facing the street in Ashbourn Terrace houses dominated the London landscape during the Regency. ...