The first of the “two earls” featured in this collection was released in the summer of 2022 as part of the Regency Summer Garden Anthology (which is only available in print format).

Rose Vickers has been sent home by her parents from India where she has lived since she was a mere child. She arrives in England with her Indian ayah (a native maid or nursemaid employed by Europeans in India) and the woman’s son in tow. For some five years she had attempted to keep her estate from faltering, but Rose knows nothing of running the estate, and as both parents have perished in an uprising in India where her father served with the East India Company’s army, she has trusted first one scoundrel and then another. She will not fully inherit until she is one and twenty, so what does she do before then?

The Earl’s English Rose: A Regency Romance Novella 

The new Earl of Everwalt was not one to appreciate being bamboozled by an obstinate, headstrong girl, though pretty she may be. If he did not require her to repair his reputation, he would leave her to the schemes she had concocted to save her father’s estate. 

Just because he was now her guardian, the Earl of Everwalt had no right to decide who she might marry. Therefore, Miss Rose Vickers sets out for London to provide the new earl a piece of her mind, only to run into a highwayman. As if scripted, the new earl proves to be her savior, but it would be some time before the suspicious Rose and the extremely susceptible Everwalt learn the depth of their connection and the true meaning of love. 

Excerpt:

“I see.” Rose Vickers managed to murmur as Mr. Arnold Palmer explained something of the passing of her step-mother’s eldest brother. Naturally, she had expected as such; yet, it made her sad to think upon the world losing another kind soul. When Lord Everwalt did not answer her multiple pleas for the assistance he had promised, she had repeatedly told herself his lordship had not abandoned her as those around her had often warned. “And you say the new Lord Everwalt means to continue the guardianship?”

Mr. Palmer wiped his palms down across the trousers he wore, evidence he was as uncomfortable with this conversation as was she. “Most assuredly, the present Lord Everwalt will see all you have chronicled set to right. First, I must issue a caveat, however. Surely you comprehend his lordship must first appear before the House of Lords in a formal ceremony to be recognized before that esteemed chamber as Everwalt.”

Rose swallowed her words of protest. “And how long will this formal recognition require of the earl?”

“It is my understanding the ceremony is scheduled to occur when Parliament returns to the Capital for its next session, along with the more prestigious families of the land,” Mr. Palmer explained. “Such is seven weeks removed.”

Alarm registered in Rose’s chest. “That is nearly two months. My father’s tenants must have seed to grow. Food on their tables. I have already sold many of the colonel’s favorite belongings to hold the estate together while I waited for the previous Lord Everwalt to act upon my behalf. I require the new earl’s intervention immediately. I can only do so much without my guardians’s permission. I am not yet of age.”

Mr. Palmer fidgeted in his chair. “I will relay your concerns to the new earl, but I must warn you his lordship has much of which to attend as he transitions to his rightful title. Have you no one to assist you with the estate business?”

“Lord Everwalt was the only guardian my parents saw to name on my behalf. As to the estate, I released my father’s steward when the tenants’ complaints proved to be true,” she explained. “Dhruv Bhatt has taken over many of the responsibilities Mr. Rinhart had ignored; yet, things have not gone as well as I had hoped. As to conducting business for the estate, as I am not of age and I am a woman, I cannot ask for credit for supplies. Such is the reason I have sold off some of my father’s possessions so I can offer the shopkeepers and others coins for the estate’s needs.”

“My, you are ingenious,” Mr. Palmer offered in praise. “And I promise to relay your concerns to Lord Everwalt upon my return to London.”

********

“You I might discover here,” Diya Bhatt said through a thick Indian accent and the typical reversals found in all her conversations. The woman had been the only “ayah” Rose could recall with her parents had arrived in India some fifteen years prior. Diya had been Rose’s closest confidante since she was a child. The woman had traveled to England with Rose when she returned some three years earlier, but, more importantly, “Ayah” had remained in England, even after Rose had received word of her parents’ passing.

“I fear I am quite predictable,” Rose said with a slight shrug of embarrassment. She pulled her knees in closer to her body to make room for the woman. She sat sideways on a long bench beneath her real mother’s favorite rose arbor, thus, the source of her name. And although the roses had lost their petals because of the winter months, some buds were still evident, and they gave her great comfort whenever the world felt too much for Rose to handle.

The late Lady Helen Vickers had been the only mother of which Rose held true memories, but Rose often imagined her real mother was in her room at night and watching over her, and she knew the look of her real mother, for her father had always commented on how much Rose had favored the late Mrs. Charlotte Vickers. However, those borrowed memories were the only ones she owned: Her mother had been ill for an elongated period before she passed, and Rose was not yet two years of age at the time.

She sighed heavily. “It is as we suspected. Lord Everwalt has passed. The new earl has promised to continue his support, but, as, he has yet to be named ‘Everwalt’ by the House of Lords, I cannot say when the financial allotments will resume.”

“The urgency to Mr. Palmer you did explain, did not you?” her ayah asked in well-practiced tones.

“Naturally, but, as Mr. Palmer is simply Lord Everwalt’s man of business, I fear he will not fully express the dire need of my request. After all, I am nothing more than another obligation the new Lord Everwalt has assumed.”

Ayah’s eyebrow rose in observation. “At least the reports of Lord Everwalt’s ‘activities’ now you know in the newsprints were not the the kindly ‘grandfather-like’ man Memsahib Vickers introduced through her letters to you.”

“We must thank our stars for that particular face, but such means the reports of Lord Everwalt and his mistress are in reference to my new guardian,” Rose countered.

Diya looked away as if seeing something Rose did not. “Your choice be few, my child.”

“I have settled on a plan,” Rose stated as she turned to place her feet on the ground, “but I would be willing to listen to your preferences.” Staring straight ahead, she asked, “Would you care to go first or should I?”

Diya said solemnly, “You believe yourself to speak to the new Lord Everwalt rather than you should wait in dependence on Mr. Palmer.”

Rose turned to the woman who had served her loyally for many years. “I do. Do you think my plan too forward on my part. From what little we know of the new Lord Everwalt, could such a man be trusted to act honorably?”

“Maintaining a mistress not be part of character of elder Lord Everwalt, I think,” Diya declared. “He was a man to be admired.”

“Amiable, truly defined the man,” Rose said softly as she recalled the few brief days she had spent with the previous earl, “yet, we do not know his nature when he was younger.” She sighed in

resignation. “Despite the presence of both a former mistress and the likely employment of a new one, we know nothing of the present lord—nothing of the true essence of his character. Therefore, I cannot but think I must personally plead my case before the earl.”

“How be so possible unless his lordship calls on you in Dover?” Diya asked, as confusion furrowed her brow.

“I plan to travel to London to request an audience with the earl,” Rose declared. “Surely, if the late Lord Everwalt educated the new lord, as Mr. Palmer assures me the former earl did, then the younger Lord Everwalt will be both reasonable and responsible.”

“If not he be?” Diya asked in obvious concern.

“Then I shall know how to proceed. I will return to Beetham Hall and either release a third of my father’s cottagers to conserve the land and the funds we have, or I will accept a marriage offer and pray the man I choose will not run through my inheritance before I turn one and twenty and claim a voice in estate matters.”

“With you I go,” Diya stated firmly.

“I hoped you would agree,” Rose admitted. “I do not believe I could face Lord Everwalt without you near.”

***************************************************

The second story in this collection was originally released the summer of 2021 as part of the Regency Mid-Summer Mischief anthology.

In the story, the heroine’s father is labeled “Brook’s Crook” for is from Brook, a hamlet in the civil parish of Bramshaw, in Hampshire, England. It lies just inside the New Forest. The hamlet contains a mix of 18th and 19th century cottages, just south of the village of Bramshaw. There are two inns in Brook on opposite sides of the road – The Green Dragon and The Bell Inn. Both buildings date from the 18th century, albeit with 19th and 20th century alterations. Brook is also home to the club-house of Bramshaw Golf Club, which claims to be the oldest golf club in Hampshire.

Just south of the village at Lower Canterton lies the Rufus Stone. This stone is said to mark the place where in 1100 the then King of England, William Rufus, was killed by an arrow whilst out hunting. The arrow was fired by a French nobleman, Walter Tyrell, but it has never been established if the death was an accident or murder.

The Jewel Thief and the Earl 

Grandison Franklyn, 8th Earl Harlow, has earned the moniker “Grandison, the Great” for a variety of reasons: his well-honed attitude of superiority; his appearance; and a string of mistresses, most notably Lady Jenest, who created a “great” row when he cut her loose. 

Miss Colleen Everley is the daughter of England’s most notorious thief, a man called “Brook’s Crook.” Colleen has been taught many of her father’s skills, along with an eye for the value of each item in a room. Unfortunately, the lady does not possess Thomas Everley’s daring. 

Lord Harlow and Miss Everley must combine forces to return Queen Charlotte’s sapphire necklace before Her Majesty learns it is missing. Toss in a healthy sprinkling of quirky characters and missteps in the investigation, and the reader will find a delightful tale that goes beyond the “Cinderella” effect and opposites attract.

Excerpt:

Grand had been in many low-born areas of London, but not this particular one. He gagged, despite holding a handkerchief over his nose. The stench made it hard to breathe; yet, Miss Everley moved along the streets as if she was strolling through the Queen’s gardens. Garbage and human waste crawled along the curb of the road as a light drizzle attempted to rinse away the muck. In Grandison’s opinion, it would take a hurricane to wash away the filth piled upon these particular streets.

“We shall begin here,” Miss Everley announced.

Grandison looked up to view a building leaning against the one beside it. He wondered if someone pushed hard enough on the exterior wall of the first building, if all along the street would fold in on themselves, one after another, like the ribs of a lady’s fan, until they were all flattened. “Who are we seeking within?” he asked, his nose wrinkling again. “Surely no one inside would possess knowledge of a sapphire necklace.”

“You may be surprised,” she responded.

As he held the door for her, loud, coarse language could be heard within. Grand glanced to Miss Everley, but the lady showed no sign she had even heard the string of curse words exchanged by two men, who stood across from each other at a table strewn with cards. He wondered how often, during her upbringing, she had been exposed to the underbelly of society. Oddly, he took offense, for, in Grand’s opinion, no lady of her quality should have previously tramped through these streets nor known her way around the community.

A bruiser of a man blocked their entrance until his eyes fell upon Miss Everley, and they softened. “Good evening, miss. Didnae know ye meant to call tonight. Mr. William didnae say nothin’ to me of it.”

Miss Everley laid her hand on the man’s beefy arm and batted her eyes at him. “Such is my fault, Mr. Hahn. I did not send Mr. William a note of my desire to speak to him on a matter of importance. Would it be an imposition to claim a few minutes of his time?”

From his place behind her, Grand watched as man after man inside the establishment placed his cards or his drink down before him and turned his attention to Miss Everley and him. Despite the rough clothing they both wore, they certainly did not fit in among these people. Moreover, they were sadly outnumbered, at least twenty to one. Even so, Grand edged closer to the lady, prepared to drag her from the place, if necessary.

Mr. Hahn glanced to Grand. “And yer friend, miss?”

“Will not harm anyone unless someone is foolish enough to attempt to pick his pocket or come too close to me,” she declared in bored tones.

Mr. Hahn barked a laugh. “Ye always be the brave one, beggin’ yer pardon, miss, fer me sayin’ so.”

Again, Miss Everley smiled on the man. “No offense taken. In fact, if you give me a moment, there is a cloth sack in my basket, especially for you. I made you something sweet.”

“Biscuits?” the man questioned through a toothy grin.

“You know I would not beg for your assistance,” she countered, “without a bit of a bribe.”

“Better than a monkey,” the man declared. “Come along. Mr. William be in his office.”

Miss Everley handed the man a cloth sack, tied off the string, and Grand wondered what else she had in the basket she carried.

As they crossed the room, he remained close behind her. All eyes in the place followed their movements, and he glanced over his shoulder several times to make certain no one approached. Meanwhile, Miss Everley walked past the rubble with her head held high and not a glance, one way or the other, at the danger within the room. In Grand’s opinion, she was both quite foolish and quite magnificent at the same time.

Mr. Hahn stopped before a dark door and gave it a cursory knock before opening it. “Miss Everley, sir, come to speak to you.” Mr. Hahn stepped aside to permit their entrance into the office before closing the door behind them as he returned to his post.

A man Grand recognized as the youngest son of Lord Harris- Green and another of Liverpool’s agents stood to greet them. Grand knew a scowl of disapproval marked his brow, but he held his tongue, at least for the moment. “Mr. William,” as the man was obviously known in this section of London, came around the desk to take the hand the lady extended to him and to bring it to his lips for an air kiss. “My dear, Miss Everley. What brings you to our door and at this hour? If I had known you were desirous to speak to me, I would have arranged a more suitable situation. You know I cannot guarantee your safety unless I am aware of your presence in this area of London.”

“Do not chide me, Lionel,” the lady said sweetly, causing Grand’s scowl to deepen. She did not speak to him in that particular tone, which was likely for the best, for it could be his undoing. “As you may readily observe, I did not travel alone. Moreover, Jones and Ardent wait outside, ‘anticipating,’ shall we say, my return.”

“Mr. William” raised an eyebrow to glance to Grand, but the man kept possession of Miss Everley’s hand. It was all Grandison could do not to pry the dastard’s fingers from the lady’s. A serious need to protect the woman had arrived, and he was not certain he was very happy about the feeling. “Mister . . .?” the man began.

“Franklyn,” Grand supplied. “I am certain you recognized me as easily as I recognized you.”

The man turned a well-placed smile on Miss Everley. “My, my, it appears I have innocently insulted Lord Harlow. I must recall my place and something of the truth of his lordship’s reputation.”

Miss Everley easily removed her hand from “Mr. William’s” grasp. “His lordship and I shall not keep you. I simply wished to know if you might check your customary sources regarding a missing sapphire necklace, one of great ‘sentimental’ value.”

GIVEAWAY – I have three eBook copies of Two Earls to Love available to those who comment below. The winner will be contacted by email and announced July 30, 2023. Good Luck!

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