A Regency Love Story. In Pictures.


Oh dear. No no no! I cannot go for my morning walk in a gown from six seasons ago! Though that cloak is cunning, indeed. And I do so adore the ermine collar. So warm this time of year. I wonder if I will see that handsome gentleman, again?


Much better. This is elegant attire indeed. Yellow gloves: check. Hat to match my cloak: check. Contrasting pink reticule? check! Cool insouciance: check! Who can possibly resist me?


I did see him. He was so handsome! Such lovely brown eyes. But there was another woman on his arm. Papa and I have gone to the country where I hope to repair my broken heart. Green seems a pleasant color to wear as I stroll to the ruins. Lord Masterful is said to live there. Quite alone and prone to moods. But I never listen to gossip. The wind catches my paisley shawl. I hope it doesn’t ruin my coiffure.


He is here! He is a dear friend of Lord Masterful. My cloak EXACTLY matches his eyes. Is that not clever of me? Lord Masterful’s residence is impressive. I believe I detected the shadow of grief in his countenance when he showed us the portrait of the late Lady Masterful.


I’ve been to tea at his house and met his dear mama. Oh dear. And his cousin, Violet. She glared at my slippers and later he told me that she was offended by them. I felt terrible as you might well imagine. I shall write her a letter apologizing, of course. . . . But why? My slippers were exquisite. Do you know, I suspect she was jealous of my tiny feet. Hers are quite large I’m sure. He defended his cousin, which is admirable. And yet. Well. I’m sure I cannot go on.


I am vexed with him. I shan’t speak another word to him. I was out riding when he called to apologize and I am sure it is a case of too little too late. And do you know, I met with his good friend Lord Masterful who has only just come out of mourning for his wife. I quoted him a poem from Mr. Lamb, whom I quite adore, as does my lord, and I do think I cheered him. He said my habit flattered my complexion and do you know, when I came home and found a note from him I felt hardly a twinge of regret at having missed him.


We’ve returned to London, Papa and I, and who do you think I saw at the Opera? None other than him. He was with Lord Masterful to whom I spoke quite pleasantly. I do not think I imagined that his grief has eased. But you may be sure I kept my feet out of sight even though my slippers matched the trim on my gown. I’ve returned Lord Masterful’s handkerchief, which he lent me when Violet sneered at me.


He was at Lord Chamberpot’s tonight. Violet was not. We talked for hours! Oh, I do think I love him.


Today, I attended a party at Mrs. Wembley’s. I danced and danced! He was there. With Violet, alas, and do you know, she asked me if my slippers pinched and was that why I was so clumsy? And he did not defend me! I did not cry in their company. But now Lord Masterful thinks I am a watering pot for who should come upon me when my tears could no longer be held back? What a dear, sweet man he is. He did console me.


Yesterday afternoon I walked to Ackerman’s and looked at prints. My dearest, bosom friend Felicity is back from Turkey! Can you imagine? I did admire her Ottoman costume. And what else can you imagine? Yes. He was there. I introduced him to Felicity, of course. I do believe Lord Masterful, who accompanied him, was quite taken with Felicity. Dare I think they might make a match of it?


He called today. My heart nearly beat out of my chest. Whenever Violet was engaged in conversation elsewhere, he was so attentive. I did everything I could to encourage Felicity and Lord Masterful and I do think I’ve quite managed it! How odd though, that Lord Masterful was so entranced with my bosom. Perhaps my gown was too daring. I shan’t wear it again.


How strange. Today Lord Masterful called on us, but without him. I was hurt I confess to find myself so neglected. Masterful had pressing business with Papa. They spoke in private for quite some time. Something about cattle I’m sure. In the event, Masterful agreed to escort me to the Oldenberg ball, and thank goodness, for otherwise I should have been quite ignored. He was there but we hardly danced but once. Violet was on his arm. I cried myself to sleep tonight.


This morning I walked out with him today. He complemented my eyes and my gown, but not my slippers. And do you know, I found him tiresome?


This afternoon, Felicity, Lord Masterful and I, nous sommes faire une promenade. Felicity had the most charming parasol in the world and chattered away about her travels and her gloves. Now that I reflect upon it, I do suspect Lord Masterful prefers a quieter sort of woman.


My heavens. What have I done? Well may you ask. I’ve broken with him. Irreparably. And I sat at the Ediderdown Ball without feeling the least bit crushed. (well, maybe a little). And Lord Masterful came to fetch me and you cannot guess what happened. You can’t! He kissed me. And declared himself madly in love. With me! And I knew then that I loved him too!


The happiest day of my life. Papa said I was radiant as I walked into the church with this lovely gown. And Masterful. . . He was so very handsome. My slippers, if I do say so myself, were the very pinnacle.


I wore his lovely ensemble the week after our wedding. He pronounced my footwear beyond charmante.

Lady Masterful.

Happy Holidays from The Riskies!

About carolyn

Carolyn Jewel was born on a moonless night. That darkness was seared into her soul and she became an award winning and USA Today bestselling author of historical and paranormal romance. She has a very dusty car and a Master’s degree in English that proves useful at the oddest times. An avid fan of fine chocolate, finer heroines, Bollywood films, and heroism in all forms, she has two cats and a dog. Also a son. One of the cats is his.
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