New name and website for my Publisher - LUME BOOKS

    

                 

https://www.lumebooks.co

My Regency Tales titles with LUME BOOKS

       

                                        

                               

Beth Elliott's Regency Tales are "witty, engaging and totally entertaining"

Nicola Cornick, USA Bestselling Author

https://www.regencytales.co.uk/

Confiding in a friend [as you do]

                 ".... I do love him with all my heart..."

   
             Promenade time along The Steyne, BRIGHTON. The Prince Regent is on 

      Horseback, close to Donaldsons shop and tearoom.   Photo from  Sussex PhotoHistory Index

                                                                                    Parkland House,              

                                                                                Marine Parade,

                                                                                Brighton,       31^st August 1814

Dearest Emily,

Today I shall not be present at Donaldson’s for the teatime meeting. It is a great pity when the weather is so mild and the sea is calm. However, Lady Fording is fatigued and so we must remain quietly at home. She won quite a large sum at cards last night, and continued playing longer than usual, encouraged by her success. I do love her for being such a sprightly old lady. And she is very kind to me, but even so, I cannot tell her anything about the Events of last night, even though it is thanks to her that I had the means to escape a Horrid Fate.

Emily, you swore to me you would keep anything I told you a Secret and so I will set down what happened. Let me begin from the moment when that odious Mrs Chetwynd interrupted our little gathering at the Castle Tavern last night. By the by, did you see how low cut her gown was? If she had so much as sneezed...! She took me into the other salon, into an alcove and [I shudder as I write his name] that horrible roué, Sir Bilton Kelly, was there, with his dissipated face and oily manner. They insisted I must go with them to the Prince Regent’s private party.

My dear Lord Longwood had warned me repeatedly against accepting any such invitation, and indeed, I was very Angry, but could not push my way out of that narrow alcove with Mrs Chetwynd blocking the way. It was most humiliating to see that many people in the room were watching, some more discreetly than others. And, oh, thankfully, at the far end of the room was Lord Longwood. He noted the general silence and turned in my direction. Lady Fording has been instructing me in the language of the fan, and so, even though my hands were shaking [with anger, not fright, you understand], I hastily took mine in my hand, waved it, then snapped it shut, laying a finger on the top of the sticks. That signals ‘I wish to speak with you’, and Lord Longwood understood.

At once, he made his way over towards me. Mrs Chetwynd was angry but he ignored her. When Sir Bilton Kelly blustered, he stared at him through his eyeglass in a truly Terrifying manner. Then he offered me his arm and so I made my escape. Once we reached the hallway, my knees began to shake. You know how Lord Longwood’s face goes dark when he scowls, and his black hair falls over his forehead. He assured me he was not angry with me and suggested we should take a turn along the path up towards the Pavilion and back, so I might compose myself.

In his company I soon felt calmer. But then he announced that he would be leaving Brighton today to return to London. That made my heart sink into my boots, for he is always so kind and helpful towards me and, as you have suspected, I do love him with all my heart. On an impulse I begged him to kiss me goodbye. But I asked for a proper kiss. He was shocked and then, his face changed, those wonderful green eyes glowed and he did, indeed kiss me. 

In those moments, I went to heaven. But now I am Wretched, for I want more of those sensations. Oh, Emily, I depend on you to support me through the next days as I struggle to appear calm.

Truly, Emily, I cannot decide if being in love is a blessing or a curse.

Your friend,                                                   

Anna

The Rake's Challenge  

The story of a summer holiday which nearly went disastrously wrong.

                        

'I knew it was a bad idea.'

When you want an excuse to see the girl you can't stop thinking about, you agree to carry out the craziest plan her brother asks of you.

That's why Selim organises a trip into the famous underground Basilica Cistern in Constantinople. Built by the Byzantine Emperor Justinian I [AD527-565], it provided water [and fish] for the inhabitants of the city down the centuries.

Olivia's brother, Richard, is a keen Antiquarian and thrilled to see this unusual place. However, the trip ends in disaster.

The Byzantine Basilica Cistern in Constantinople,
painted by Thomas Allom in 1840

" The tunnel opened into a much vaster space and an underground lake shone as far as they could see in the reflected light of the torches. There were many rows of columns rising from the water to an unseen roof.

            'This is the place shown in my picture,' exclaimed Richard, his voice shaking with excitement.

            'Yes,' agreed Selim, thankful they had nearly reached the end of the expedition without mishap, 'The great cistern built by the Byzantine emperors.'

            'Magnificent,' Richard was saying in a tone of awe, when Lord Craybrook uttered an oath. 'This water is damned cold,' he said, 'and there are fish - large ones, and many of them.'

            'That's good for the poor people of this neighbourhood,' said Selim. ‘It's free food for them.’

            'Which way now?' asked Richard. 'Must we return the way we came or can we get out another way?'

            After a short discussion with their guide, Selim said, 'There are a couple of pillars worthy of your attention. Follow Timur.' The thickset man with his torch gestured them to come towards another part of the pool. They waded along from one pillar to the next.

            'I'm getting very wet,' muttered Lord Craybrook.

            'Surely you do not regard that.' Richard said scornfully. 'Not when you're walking where the Byzantine engineers and maybe even their emperors once trod.'

            In spite of his gloom, Selim grinned at this. It amazed him that Richard could be so excited by these old stones. Now, for himself, he would become enthusiastic about a beautiful landscape, like the view he had shown Olivia. At the thought of her, he could not help smiling, recalling her shining eyes and eager expression the other evening. And yet, initially she had been a little hesitant towards him. Selim turned a considering look on Lord Craybrook. No! Olivia would never accept the man who had tried to compromise her by tricks, even if he was as handsome as a Greek god. Angry with himself for doubting her, he resolved to call on her the following morning.

            He was impatient to get out of this water and feel the sun on his face. But Timur was still showing Richard the curious base to one of the pillars. It was a carved head, set sideways at the bottom of the column.

            'Oh, by Jupiter,' exclaimed Richard. 'How I wish we had brought Olivia, so she could draw this for me. See,' he traced the carving with his fingers, peering closely at it, 'it's a Medusa. How strange to find it here…and turned on its side, like this.'

            One of the torches flickered and went out. The guide hastily lit another one from Huseyin's torch, which was also burning low.

            'That is our last torch,' Selim told them, 'we have just enough time to find the way out.'

            Very reluctantly, Richard left the pillar and waded along at the back of the little group. Just ahead of him, Huseyin's torch flickered, faded and died. They all moved slowly, stumbling occasionally over unseen stones in the dark water. They were cold and tired now, wading after the flame of Timur's torch, which showed the way but did not provide much light. At length, they came to some steps and climbed out of the water, into a rough tunnel. Here a gleam of daylight showed the end of the passage.

            Selim gave silent thanks at having completed the expedition with no problems. He turned and watched as they all filed out. They made a sorry looking group, smeared with dust and cobwebs and dripping wet from the waist down. Selim frowned. Why was Richard lingering inside the tunnel? He went back in, taking the flickering torch with him. 'Hurry up, Richard,' he called, 'everyone is anxious to go home and change their clothes. Richard…?'

            But there was only the echo of his own voice. "

                                                                               (C)BethElliott
 

 Scandalous Lady                                 

Christmas Greetings with a Welsh flavour

    Wishing everyone peace, goodwill and happiness at Christmas.

Mount Snowdon [Eryri], [photo by Celtic Trails]

  Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddyn Newydd Dda

- Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Click on this link to hear the greeting

                                                   Happy Christmas in Welsh


        

Seduced by stones

            I admit to a fascination with sparkling gems.

French Crown Jewels in The Louvre. Photo by owensdt1

The Côte-de-Bretagne red spinel with the set of Queen Marie Amélie to the left, the bracelets and diadem of the Duchess of Angoulême in the centre and upper right and, between them, the set of Empress Josephine. [Wikipedia]


In museums a display of jewels holds me entranced, lost to time as the gems wink and shine. I'm as hypnotised as the old Councillor in Lorna Doone was by Lorna's diamond necklace.

The magnificent Spoonmaker's Diamond is an 86-carat pear-shaped stone, surrounded by a double-row of 49 Old Mine cut diamonds. It hangs in a glass case on the wall of one of the rooms of the Treasury in TopKapi Palace in Istanbul.  [1]

    Small wonder that jewels often feature in my Regency Tales. Whether it is Louise, the Huguenot goldsmith with a talent for resetting the gems from oldfashioned parures into lighter, more modern styles (The Rake and his Honour), or Nell and Sophie receiving a surprise legacy of jewellery (The Outcasts), or even a deeply-in-love hero offering a fabulous ruby ring to the object of his affections, I do enjoy adding a dash of bling.

Ottoman ring by Gittigidiyor, Istanbul

https://tinyurl.com/rxpouyb
[ ondagordum.com ]


[1] For dazzling diamonds to enjoy,  see 

http://famousdiamonds.tripod.com/famousdiamonds.html

The Rake, his honour and his mission

           A Heavenly Horse, Huguenots, smallpox and silversmithing 

          all feature in the second Montailhac Family tale, 

                                                    The Rake and His Honour

         the story of a breathless pursuit across England and France 

during the Napoleonic Wars.

A pleasant way to end the day

with a Regency Tale – adventure, intrigue and romance 

 "Witty, engaging and totally entertaining." - Nicola Cornick,  

          USA Today bestselling author 

The Rake and his Honour starts in an age-old cavern in the Pyrenees where the heroine takes shelter from a storm...only to find a hostile gentleman also hiding there

                 A Merens horse [Pyrenees]

The story soon moves to a smart address in London, with some Society activities, followed by a dash to the French king in exile at Hartwell House at Aylesbury; 

                                                                                                    

                                                                             

and finally a race by this very ill-matched pair to outwit two of Napoleon's top agents.  Disciplined Huguenot Louise, and charming rake Arnaut are so busy dodging knives and bullets there is never a moment for love. Or is there?

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Rake-his-Honour-Beth-Elliott-ebook/dp/B01MZE95DR/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Beth+Elliott&qid=1556564703&s=books&sr=1-1 

                                                                             

                                                                                           

      Looking out from Arnaut's cavern                             

Fancy some armchair travel to olden days and other ways ?

Beth Elliott’s Regency Tales – adventure, intrigue and romance

            "Witty, engaging and totally entertaining." - Nicola Cornick,  

          USA Today bestselling author.

Ice meets fire in Constantinople

  

                                 A Montailhac Family Tale

Constantinople 1811 Ice cool Lord Berannes is the chief diplomat negotiating peace between the Ottoman Sultan and Russia. Then he encounters fiery, rebellious artist Olivia Hartford. And after that, nothing goes to plan – for either of them.

 

Read a short excerpt

'It would be very easy, Olivia,' he insisted, his eyes flashing as she kept shaking her head. 'No servant would hesitate if I gave the order to have you tied in a sack and thrown in the Bosphorus.'

            At this she leapt to her feet. 'You are disgusting!' she shouted, 'I can hardly believe you're human when you talk like that. You take me away by force and plan to use me for your entertainment with no respect for my wishes or my reputation.'

            He rose in one fluid movement and stood over her. 'You have no reputation.'

     Not a promising start to the relationship between the diplomat and the artist....

Kindle edition :      /Scandalous-Lady   

                                

Ancient Greek and Roman 'coffee' with a twist

The acanthus, a thistle like plant, is found all round the Mediterranean. Since the time of the ancient Greeks its leaves have been used as a motif in decoration, especially on the Corinthian columns of the great antique temples.

About 20 miles inland from the Mediterranean Turkish town of Silifke are the ruins of the vast holy city of Diocaesarea [ now known as Uzuncaburc = Tall columns]. There are plenty of examples of acanthus carved capitals, most sadly tumbled by age and earthquakes.

Acanthus = kenger in Turkish

At the entrance to the site there are a number of basic shops and cafes, where you can buy embroidery, lace or knitted goods; and have a simple meal of 'sikma' - a cheese pancake, and a drink of kenger coffee. This is the same as the ancient Greek / Roman coffee, made from the dried seed pods of the thistle-like acanthus plant - a tradition which has come down many centuries.

The shop sign says Kenger Kahve bulunur

we sell Kenger Coffee

Drinking this brew under the tall columns with their acanthus leaf carvings makes the experience special. 

La Cantéra

A Lady's Honour is set in the French Pyrenees at a time when life followed an age-old pattern, dictated by the changing seasons. Livestock was taken up into the high valleys from the end of May to the beginning of October. Shepherds and their dogs were vital for keeping the flocks safe during this time. Bears, wolves, eagles were all a threat, in addition to wild weather.   

Before leaving the shepherd to his lonely life in the mountains, groups of local people accompanied him for a part of the journey while taking large flocks of sheep, goats, cows and horses up to their usual pastures. In the villages en route, there would be a gathering of the people, consumption of food and alcohol, and music. This was generally called a cantéra - a spontaneous concert of traditional ballads, some of them dating from ancient times. Everybody joined in, no matter how well or badly they could sing.

 The Pipe Player is still a popular song, performed at many cantéras across the Pyrenees. You can see a version in this video, uploaded by Ellen Chapoulié

Le joueur de pipeau

'Il habite la-haut, perdu dans la montagne,

Le soir quand il fait beau un grand chien l’accompagne...’

The pipe player lives up in the mountain,

On fine evenings a large dog accompanies him.

The song goes on to tell how the piper lives so high up he can touch the stars. On his pipe he plays the song of the wind and the music of the birds.

The Pyreneen sheepdog, large, strong and intelligent, is a working dog. Used to the harsh climate of the high mountains, he spends his life protecting his flock from predators.

Not all the animals in the high Pyrenees are dangerous 


The Pyrenean chamois [called  an "isard"] lives above 2,000 metres. It's shy but curious.

The marmot also lives at high altitudes. They live in large groups in burrows.

Can you help my hero?

Joachim is the youngest in the family, the only one still at home -a chateau. 
He is in charge of maintaining his father's estates, both the land and the livestock. Hardworking, athletic and earnest, he hasn't had much time for dalliance or developing a relationship with a girl... until now. 

At last he seems to have found someone who has similar ideals and who is athletic enough to keep pace with all his outdoor tasks and the riding involved. So far, so good. But falling in love with him is not enough, unless he can get her to love the wild and remote region in which he lives. So what beauty spots will win her heart and make her want to spend her life here?

The mountains 

or the lakes

or perhaps the little towns close to his home

                         

Which scenes would you advise him to show her ?

               

                                                                                     

Read an extract from my Work in Progress: "A Lady's Honour"

Joachim is escorting his mother's guests from Toulouse to the family home, the chateau de Fontanes, in the French Pyrenees. Of the two young ladies, one is sulking and one is permanently fuming. Major Hugo Dawlish is unwell after being attacked by unknown villains the previous evening. 

Joachim could scarcely believe his good luck the following morning. Nobody had been attacked overnight.  Everyone appeared for breakfast at the time he had stated. Everyone was ready to leave at the agreed time and the journey went smoothly through the first few stages. There were no sounds of quarrelling coming from the young ladies. They made no grumbles about the winding roads, and on the steep hills where the horses pulled the coach at a snail’s pace, they got out to walk. Joachim heard their admiring comments about the picturesque scenery and felt pleased. This was better. And soon they would be home. His mother would know how to calm Sophie and more importantly, how to brighten up Miss Dismal, both in her spirits and her attire.

            This was his second day in her company and so far she had not smiled once. Even when he pointed out another breath-taking view as they walked up one of the steep inclines, her pinched expression never relaxed. He wanted to shout at her to show some enthusiasm. And her clothes only added to the general impression of gloom. He cast an eye over her light grey gown and the darker grey pelisse she wore. Her bonnet was a simple straw one, with no ribbons or flowers to brighten it up. Joachim gave a wry smile as he imagined his sister Margot’s reaction to this dreary outfit. She was always so fashionable. It was a good thing she lived too far away to see these visitors during their stay at Fontanes.

There was not much traffic on the road and no sign of any evil-doers. Joachim’s chief concern was whether Hugo would manage to ride for the remaining part of the journey. He was evidently in pain, his head down with his chin tucked against his throat and taking no notice of the scenery. Since their last change of horses, Bertrand was riding next to him, while Joachim went ahead of the coach. But now, as they entered the town of Tarascon, Joachim let the coach overtake him. He exclaimed in dismay when he saw Hugo swaying in the saddle, and hurriedly came close alongside, ready to catch him if need be.

‘The coaching inn is just the other side of the river, Hugo,’ he said. ‘You’ll be glad of a rest, I think.’

There was no reply. Hugo seemed scarcely to hear him. They slowed their horses to a walk and crossed the bridge. The familiar sight of the round castella on the hill above the Ariege River was a welcome reminder that they were now only an hour from home. They rode into the yard of the Castella Inn and dismounted. Bertrand cleared his throat, and when Joachim looked, jerked his head towards Hugo, who was leaning against his horse, face as white as paper and eyes screwed up. They took him firmly by the arms.

‘Just a few steps,’ said Bertrand, ‘nearly there.’

‘Sorry,’ mumbled Hugo, dragging his feet and flopping against them with each step. They guided him into a private parlour and deposited him in an armchair.    

‘Whatever is wrong?’ cried Sophie, rushing over to stare. She pressed both hands over her mouth in alarm. Nell followed her and Joachim was surprised at how her face softened as she bent over the sick man and examined the wound. She touched the broken skin very gently.  Hugo’s mouth tightened and Joachim winced for him.

(c) Beth Elliott 2018

Tarascon-sur-Ariège

                             

                                           Looking upstream from the bridge-

            The Tour du Castella, built in 1775, on the site of the medieval castle 

            [which was pulled down by order of Cardinal Richelieu]

        

                The Ariège river, looking downstream from the bridge