The Regency Sampler - Regency Romances

By Marilyn Clay

This FREE REGENCY SAMPLER e-book contains the first chapters and book covers from seven published Regency Romance novels written by author Marilyn Clay, as well as the book covers and first chapters of three of Marilyn Clay’s published Historical Suspense Novels titled, DECEPTIONS: A Jamestown Novel; DANGEROUS SECRETS; BETSY ROSS: ACCIDENTAL SPY; and Marilyn Clay's newest contemporary mystery novel, STALKING A KILLER; all of which are available as ebooks.

It also contains the book covers of several of Marilyn Clay’s research books, titled THE HISTORY OF THE WATER CLOSET; 18th and 19th CENTURY ENGLISH WOMEN AT SEA, all available as ebooks.

Also included are book covers for two books by Marilyn Clay that feature kitty cats, titled: DAISY GROWS UP: A Kitten Baby Book; and SAILOR'S NEW BED.

Marilyn Clay is the acclaimed author of over twenty books, all of which are now available as ebooks.

I hope you enjoy this FREE REGENCY SAMPLER! For more information, visit the "Marilyn Clay Author" webpage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marilyn Clay
• Release date: Jul 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513066202

Book preview

Table of Contents

The Regency Sampler - Regency Romances

THE REGENCY SAMPLER

BEWITCHING LORD WINTERTON

Chapter One | The Birthday Gift

Chapter One

FELICITY’S FOLLY

Chapter One | An Impossible Venture

MISS ELIZA’S GENTLEMAN CALLER

Chapter 1 | A PERPLEXING PROBLEM

MISS DARBY’S DEBUT

Chapter One | You Will Marry Whomever I say!

Chapter One | London is Not So Very Far Away

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THE REGENCY SAMPLER

MARILYN CLAY

This Ebook contains the Book Covers and First Chapters of

seven Regency Romance novels by Marilyn Clay, as well as three recently

published historical suspense novels and more.

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The Regency Sampler E-book Copyright 2015 by Marilyn Jean Clay

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

This book and all the first chapters of each of the novels contained herein are protected by the copyright laws of The United States of America and other countries. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, including those yet to be invented. Scanning, digitizing, photocopying, recording, e-mailing or electronic copying without the prior written consent of the author, Marilyn Clay is illegal and punishable by law.

Please do not contribute to online pirating of copyrighted material. Thank you for honoring the copyright laws of the United States of America and for respecting the author's hard work and her livelihood.

BEWITCHING LORD WINTERTON

A Regency Romance Novel

Marilyn Clay

E-book Edition Copyright 2012 by Marilyn Jean Clay

Original print edition Copyright 1995 by Marilyn Jean Clay

Because there is magic in great-grandmother’s wedding gown, golden-haired Lilibet simply must use it to win the impoverished Abercorn family a rich husband. But when handsome war-hero Lord Winterton comes calling, Neala opens the door and Winterton instantly wants her for his bride! But Neala refuses to leg-shackle the nobleman by magic. She will become his bride only when he realizes he is bewitched . . . by love.

Bewitching Lord Winterton was loads of fun! – Nicole Jordan, historical author.

Ms. Clay challenges the usual trends while seeping her book in Jane Austen-like characters set against an authentic Regency background. – Patricia Rice, author.

Very cute and funny...a joy to read...excellent! – Gail Eastwood, author.

Chapter One

The Birthday Gift

What a good ‘un ‘ye are, Nealie girl, said Miss Neala Abercorn’s grandmother, as Neala helped Grandma O’Grady into a comfortable chair near the fire. Grandma, close on seventy years of age had just traveled by stage from Ireland to London, and Neala was certain she must be feeling quite fatigued from the long journey.

There, now, said Grandma, sinking into the cushions with a sigh, then glancing toward sixteen-year-old Lilibet, who had followed her older sister and grandmother into the small parlor. With her blond curls and blue eyes, Lilibet did not look the least like her older sister, brown-haired Neala. And here’s me other gran’daughter, the birthday girl.

Did you bring my present, Grandma? Lilibet asked, her blue eyes round as she perched prettily on the faded mulberry silk sofa across from the elderly woman. I declare I cannot wait another minute to see what it is!

Lilibet, Neala scolded, Grandma O’Grady only just got here. We must see to her comfort first. Are you warm enough, Grandma? Perhaps I could fetch your shawl?

T’would be lovely of you, Nealie girl. What a good ‘un ‘ye are, she murmured again.

Neala managed a feeble smile. It had been five years since she had seen Grandma O’Grady and she was delighted to see her, but constantly being referred to as the ‘good ‘un’ already felt a bit wearying. Though she supposed she should be accustomed to it by now. Mama had called her the ‘good ‘un’ almost since birth, just above two decades ago.

Neala headed across the tiny parlor which the girl’s mother, Lady Abercorn, persisted in calling the ‘drawing room’. Passing Lilibet, she caught sight of the mocking gaze in her younger sister’s bright blue eyes.

Fetch my present, too, Nealie, Lilibet ordered, then turned again to Grandma. Mama says you were bringing me a wonderful surprise. Grandma!

Sure, ‘an I am. Miss Lilibet. ‘Ye may as well bring the girl her package, Nealie, dear, Grandma called after Neala, the musical sound of her Irish lilt stirring something deep inside Nealie. ‘Ye’ll find it nestled just inside me trunk. A pretty parcel, it is, too, she said to Lilibet, all tied up with a pink satin ribbon.

On her way down the bare corridor toward the small guest bedchamber at the back of the house, Neala wondered why she was feeling so downcast today? Since Grandma had just arrived and since it was Lilibet’s birthday, she should be feeling quite the thing. But she wasn’t.

Perhaps it was because this was the first special occasion the Abercorns had celebrated since Papa died. Not that they were doing this one up proper, not by a long chalk. Sure, she and Mama had managed small gifts for Lilibet, but linen handkerchiefs and a new bonnet were a far cry from the manner in which Papa used to shower them all with finery; and not just on birthdays, but at Christmas and sometimes for no reason at all.

When Neala’s lower lip began to tremble, she bit it to keep from crying. How very much she missed Papa, though she knew Mama didn’t. She pushed down a pang of irritation. Papa was a good father and a very generous man. True, he may have enjoyed his drink a bit too much, and he might have lingered at the gaming table a trifle too long, but he was a good man none the less, and he did not deserve to be...  She could not finish the thought.

Reaching the darkish little bedchamber at the back of the apartment, which Neala had tried to brighten up earlier with a bouquet of yellow daisies and purplish sweet William, she sank to her knees to open Grandma O’Grady’s leather trunk. After pulling out the knitted green wool shawl and the birthday gift, a rather large parcel, she thought, she also took the liberty of laying out a few of Grandma’s things, her warm nightrail, a wooly robe and a thick eiderdown quilt.

On her way back to the parlor, Neala heard the front door of the tiny flat open and close. Mama was home. A part of Nealie’s mind wondered if Mama had been successful this afternoon in selling Lady Feathergill the design Nealie had sketched last evening for Lady Feathergill’s new ball gown. If Mama had secured the commission to fashion the gown, it would mean food on the table for another month.

Hearing the joyful cries of Lady Abercorn’s reunion with her mother, Neala smiled ruefully. She hadn’t heard Mama laugh since the day news reached them of Papa’s death. But Mama’s delight then had been short-lived, for in less than a fortnight Mama had learned that her husband had gone through every last penny of the vast Abercorn fortune he had inherited upon reaching his majority.

Neala forced a bright smile to her lips as she reentered the parlor. Here you are, Grandma, she said, as she handed the elderly woman the warm shawl.

Thank ‘ye, girl. What a good ‘un, ‘ye are.

Nealie, her mother glanced up, impatience in her voice, where’s the tea? And the lemon cake? I declare, she exclaimed to Grandma O’Grady, I cannot think what has got into Nealie today, she’s always such a good ‘un!

Never mind scolding her, Fiona, it was meself who sent the gel fetchin’. Grandma draped the shawl across her shoulders, then turned to Lilibet. Now, let’s have a look at Miss Lilibet’s birthday present. Her watery grey eyes indicated the package Nealie still carried under one arm.

Oh, Mama, can I open it now? Lilibet snatched the parcel from Nealie and pressed it to her own bosom.

Not yet, dear. Nealie, get the tea things, will you? Lady Abercorn pulled up a chair and sat down while Neala headed obediently for the kitchen.

Though it had been a twelvemonth since they had moved from their lovely home in Mayfair; it still seemed odd not to ring for the servants when they desired tea, or when they desired anything, for that matter. All they could afford now was old Mrs. Montcreif, the elderly lady who lived in the next building. Twice a week, Mrs. Montcreif came in and did the cleaning and the shopping, since Mama’s pride still refused to let her set foot in any of the shops. Wouldn’t do to let the servants of my dearest friends see me at the market buying potatoes and fish, now would it? she had said.

Mrs. Montcreif also did the baking. She had come in this morning, and consequently the larder was now full of meat, fresh produce, delicious smelling bread and two pans of Lilibet’s favorite lemon cake.

As soon as Neala had brought in the tea things and everyone had been handed steaming hot cups of it and a slice of the iced lemon cake, Lady Abercorn gazed fondly round at the small gathering.

This is indeed a special occasion, she said solemnly. Neala glanced up from her plate, detecting a hint of something odd in Mama’s tone. Not only are we honored to have Grandma O’Grady here with us, Lady Abercorn went on, but I’ve something of great import to share with you girls.

Neala’s curiosity was fully aroused now.

Lilibet had also looked up. Have we inherited another fortune? she asked. Because if we have, I should like to . . .

Hush, Lilibet! Lady Abercorn said, her tone sounding more like it usually did. Stern. "What I have to say is very important. It is not to be repeated to anyone. Anyone, do you understand? Fierce Irish eyes pinned both her daughters in turn. When they had both nodded obediently. Lady Abercorn continued. Now then. As you girls know, my life with your Papa was. . .less than amicable; but, now that your Grandma O’Grady is here . . . Lady Abercorn’s voice trailed off. W-Why don’t you tell them. Mother."

"Nonsense, Fiona! The Faire spell is meant to be handed down from mother to daughter. Though I do recall it once went to a cousin, and it worked equally as well. But, ‘tisn’t my place to tell them. You must."

What on earth was Mama trying to say, Neala wondered.

Oh, do tell us. Mama! Lilibet cried impatiently. I want to open my present! She reached again for the package, which Lady Abercorn had insisted she put aside while they had tea and cake.

Do be still, Lilibet! Lilibet fell silent and Lady Abercorn began afresh. What I have to say concerns something that happened a long time ago, but now it affects all of us, especially you, Lilibet. A nervous smile flitted across Lady Abercorn’s face and again she glanced toward her own mother.

For pity’s sake, Fiona, the elderly woman sputtered, let the child open the gift! Sure, an’ she sees what i’tis, it will be that much easier to explain.

Very well, Lady Abercorn said. You may open your present now, Lilibet.

With a squeal of delight, Lilibet tore into the wrapping, flinging aside the pretty pink ribbon and sending tissue paper wafting to the floor.

Do be careful, Lilibet, her mother admonished, Tis . . . quite old.

When Lilibet turned back the last layer of tissue paper, her brows drew together in a frown. As she held the soft folds of ivory fabric up before her, a dejected sounding, Oh-h, escaped her pink rosebud lips.

Having vacated her