The Foundling is coming soon!

Book 3 in the Rags to Richmonds family saga is coming in just two weeks! I appreciate very much how many of you have given it a try and I hope you will do likewise for the Foundling…several of our ARC readers have declared it their favorite in the series!

You can preorder it HERE for delivery on November 12

And you can find The Maid (book 1) and The Spinster (book 2) by clicking on their titles. Each book stands alone! But we hope you’ll love the little mystery that unfolds when you read them as a series!

Last but not least the winner of the giveaway I mentioned in my last post is Brenda Murphree. Check your email Brenda…I will send you both The Maid and The Spinster there!

Frederica lost count of the number of times she was asked for an introduction, congratulated on being returned to her family, welcomed to the ton, and—most unexpectedly of all—complimented, on everything from her looks to her dancing, both of which she found absurd. Were it not for her sisters’ marriages and the duke’s advocacy, she might have been persuaded to think people were laughing at her. She had spent her whole life being of no interest to anybody. To be suddenly the cynosure of all eyes was bewildering.

On Oakley’s advice, she did not elaborate on her present situation, despite it clearly being all anybody wished to know. Her family had resolved that she should not be left alone even for one moment; thus one of them was always present to fend off any probing questions. To that end, they had also somehow contrived to help her evade any invitations to dance the first three sets. The two after that, she had danced—poorly—with Kem and Worthe, while for the present set, she was partnered by Oakley. Next to come was the supper dance, and she had promised that to Penrith. She was beside herself in anticipation for it, though she dearly hoped she would make less of a fudge of it than she was presently making of the dance with her brother.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered after tripping him with a wrong turn. “I thought it was the other way.”

“It is well,” he replied with a grin. “I thought it was our turn to go around the outside, so I am hardly in a position to judge. Do not concern yourself—nobody noticed.”

“I do not know how. It feels as though everybody is watching me.”

“None more so than the duke, eh?”

Frederica followed Oakley’s gaze to where Penrith danced in another group. He was, indeed, looking in her direction, quite ignoring his partner. Frederica felt herself blush—and blush again when her inattention made her miss her cue to skip forwards.

“You two seem to enjoy each other’s company exceedingly well,” Oakley said as they joined opposite arms and skipped around on the spot.

Frederica nodded, grinning broadly. Penrith, like her brothers and sisters, had spent much of the evening by her side. He had been required to dance more often than she, but he had returned to her between almost every set, heading off as many questions about her past as she had about his late wife. They made a fine team.

Oakley swapped arms with her, and they skipped back in the other direction. “If he were to speak to you at some point about wishing to spend more time with you…considerably more time…would you be amenable to such a…circumstance?”

Frederica looked at him eagerly, her heart beating even faster than the energetic dance demanded. “Has he said he wishes to…spend more time with me?”

“No—no, he has not. I only wished to know what I ought to say if he did.”

Frederica’s heart sank, and she felt a fool for having allowed it to soar—though it taught her much about her own mind that hope had been her first response to her brother’s ill-veiled hint. They stopped skipping and held their places while the other couples took their turns in the dance. In a voice for her ears only, Oakley added, “I do not mean to hasten you, Frederica—far from it. Only, I have not had a great deal of success when it comes to this side of things, and I should not like to err again. Adelaide and Scarlett would have my guts.”