by Linda Rae Sande
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The Earl of Fennington has a secret identity—that of Mr. Pepperidge, editor of London's premiere gossip rag, The Tattler. While attending a garden party as Fennington, he meets and falls in love with Lady Emelia. The attraction is mutual, for despite knowing better, she allows him to kiss her behind a hedgerow. Who will know but them?
Why, Mr. Pepperidge, of course! Desperate to spend more time with Emelia, Fennington employs a bit of blackmail to force Emelia to meet with him once a week. Disguised as Pepperidge, he insists she provide him the on-dit she hears. That, or he'll print the news of her kiss in The Tattler!
With mistaken identities ruling the reports in The Tattler and a new Gossip Goddess sharing news of obscure aristocrats, is it any wonder the members of the ton love to hate gossip? Or do they really love The Gossip of an Earl?
Free with Kindle Unlimited!REVIEWS
The nuance of the gossiper being played and the ensuing tidal waves that come from this are entertaining and funny. Linda Rae pulls me into this time period again and again with her well-developed characters. Brava!! Moonlit Night on Amazon
This book is a great read. The author knows how to write a book to keep you wanting to read more. Linda Brown on Amazon
“I have no intention of leaving you alone tonight.”
Pulled from her reverie by the odd statement, Jane stared at Andrew. “Oh?” was all she could think to say.
Andrew allowed a chuckle. “I do hope I haven’t scandalized you, my sweeting.”
Goodness, they had just become reacquainted after eighteen years, and he was already using an endearment only suitable for couples who were ...
Jane inhaled sharply. Is that what Andrew Burroughs intended? To make her his mistress? To offer carte blanche?
“Oh, Christ, I have scandalized you,” he said with a roll of his eyes. He straightened in the squabs and gave a quick shake of his head. “I apologize, my lady. It’s not my intention to take liberties, nor to ...”
“I am rather flattered, actually,” Jane interrupted with a shake of her head. “No one has ever called me ‘sweeting’. Not even my husband, but then I suppose you already knew that.” This last was said in a quieter voice, as if she realized her place in her husband’s life was well known to others.
How many women in the ton knew of her despair at being left alone for months at a time as her late husband spent all his time away from London? He was only ever at their mansion in Westminster when Parliament was in session, and even then, he spent most of the time when he wasn’t in the House of Lords at his club, Boodles.
“I did not,” Andrew said with a shake of his head. He sighed and was about to say something else when the coach suddenly halted.
ABOUT Linda Rae Sande
A former technical writer, Linda Rae’s interest in the Regency has resulted in fourteen books set during that era. After spending her days running a small print shop, she can frequently be found at the local cinema enjoying the latest movie. Although she no longer hosts any tropical fish, she follows the San Jose Sharks. She makes her home in Cody.
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