Arabella's Blog and Chit-Chat: December 2022

Saturday, 31 December 2022

Happy New Year - 2023 - Arabella Sheen

Lots of exciting things are happening in 2023. A new Regency romance is on the way and another contemporary romance is in the planning.

Wishing all my readers, followers, and friends much happiness and joy in the coming year.

Monday, 19 December 2022

Season's Greetings - from Arabella Sheen

Just in case I become overloaded with edits and work...

I'm taking this opportunity to wish all my readers, followers, and friends a wonderful Christmas and a joyful 2023.

Saturday, 17 December 2022

FLEETING ENCOUNTERS: Lady Francesca - Arabella Sheen - Excerpt 2

Fleeting Encounters:

Lady Francesca

Arabella Sheen

Fleeting Encounters Series … offers erotic bedtime reading

Dare Lady Francesca Chapel bed down with her steward?

Lady Francesca has been recently widowed. And at the reading of the will, when it’s revealed her husband has gambled away the family fortune and her sizable dowry, she realizes she must find a way to save Chapel Grange, her son’s inheritance before it is lost. Penniless and desperate to survive, is Alexander the answer to Francesca’s problem?

With the turn of a card, Alexander Milton has won a parcel of land from Lord Chapel. The trouble is, he doesn’t want the Chapel estate, and more to the point, he doesn’t need it. When it’s suggested he approach the widow with an offer to form a working partnership in order to save Chapel Grange, he soon discovers he wants to merge with Lady Francesca in more ways than one.

Can Francesca and Alexander work together, or will their passion for one another stand in their way?

Content Warning: Contains erotic love scenes

CHAPTER ONE - Excerpt 2

Francesca sat at her writing desk in the morning room. With a feathered quill in hand, she was composing letters to friends. She was thanking them for their sincere condolences, but her mind wasn’t on the task. Her thoughts had drifted to Chapel Grange and all the things she still had yet to accomplish.

The sun, shining through the open lattice windows, brought comforting warmth with it. And on a cool summer breeze, as it wafted against the fine linen curtains, the rustle of birds could be heard as they foraged for food amongst the twigs and moss beneath the window. But Francesca’s reflections were not centered on the habits of nature. Instead, they were focused on her departed husband and the havoc he’d so recently inflicted upon them.

It had been a month since the will had been read, and things at Chapel Grange had not become any easier. Francesca often sat with Mr. Pentworthy for hours at a time in what had once been Charles’s study. Together, they had gone through the ledgers and account books, only to discover the household’s outgoing expenditure was going to be higher than the estate’s annual income. As things stood, she and Theo were living beyond their means, and adjustments had to be made or the debtors’ punishment of imprisonment would come calling. They had to tighten their belts, and if possible, find a source of income.

With her letters completed, Francesca was in the process of placing wax seals upon the papers when there came a knock on the door of the morning room. Harris, the butler, entered and bowed.

“There is a Mrs. Nathan Cross to see your ladyship. Would you like me to tell her you’re not at home to visitors, ma’am?”

Francesca was supposed to be mourning her late husband and was expected to maintain a distance from friends and social gathering for at least one year and one day. To receive callers, no matter how well acquainted she was with them, was frowned upon. But Ruth was a dear friend, so surely no one could object if the rules were bent just a little.

Francesca had known Ruth and her husband, Nathan, for many years. Living in the same area of High Wycombe in Buckinghamshire meant the Chapel and the Cross families had often frequented the same events and parties. Chapel Grange was situated near Downley, and the Crosses had a house only a few miles distant, in West Wycombe.

A visit from her friend was unexpected, but it was a welcome distraction.

“You may show Mrs. Cross in, Harris. And have cook prepare a tray for us. Tea and sandwiches. Also some of that delicious seed cake or walnut cake she makes for Master Theo would not come amiss.”

“Yes, my lady.”

When Harris returned with Mrs. Cross, Francesca rose from her chair and hurriedly went to greet her friend with arms outstretched. Embracing Ruth, she gave a warm kiss on both cheeks and linked her arm through Ruth’s.

“Ruth…I hadn’t expected to see you so soon. I was sure no one would venture past the gates. I believe I’m persona non grata? Has society shunned me since Charles’s passing?”

“And why would I not call upon my bestest of friends,” Ruth said with a laugh.

Francesca led Ruth to the chaise longue where they sat and chatted until Harris brought the refreshments.

There was a familiar comradery between the two women, but eventually, their conversation turn to Charles, and the light-hearted mood changed in an instant.

Francesca tried to remain cheerful, but she was sure Ruth sensed her disquiet.

“It was so good of you to have come, Ruth. I’d thought, since Theo and I are now without a penny to our name, no one would call upon us.”

“You cannot mean that.” Ruth sounded surprised.

Francesca shook her head. “Since the will was read, we have neither seen nor heard from Charles’s relations. Not that I’m complaining, for I’d much rather they didn’t come calling. But it does seem strange.”

“What…no one?”

“Not a soul. I suppose having no fortune to speak of, we…that is, Theo and I…have become undesirables.”

Ruth rested a hand comfortingly over Francesca’s and Francesca felt heartened. She was not alone. She had a friend. A friend she could confide in.

“How are things for you and Theodor?” Concern was etched on Ruth’s face. “Nathan mentioned rumors are rife in the city. It’s said that you, as Charles’s widow, have been left with nothing. Did Charles not leave you and Theodor provided for? Have you truly lost all?”

Francesca paused before answering, and then, squaring her shoulders back and lifting her chin, she looked bravely across at Ruth.

“Everything is gone. All that’s left is the house, the land within the boundary of Chapel Grange, and the farmworkers’ tenanted cottages.” Francesca smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of happiness. It was a smile of woeful sorrow. “I’ve gone through Charles’s books and papers with Mr. Pentworthy, but I can make very little sense of anything. Mr. Pentworthy is also not at all helpful. He’s still loyal to Charles, and I think he sees me as a threat to the way things have always been run at Chapel Grange. As far as I can discover, we have a little land that’s within the walls of the estate, but the bulk of the acreage was lost. I’ve been told by Mr. Pentworthy that Charles gambled it away at cards.”

“Did you have no idea of his reckless habits?” Ruth asked.

Francesca shook her head. “None. When Charles went to London, I thought…” She gave a deep sigh. “Well, I don’t know exactly what I thought, but I didn’t really care that he was away from home. I know it’s an awful thing to speak ill of the dead, but to be truthful, I was happy Charles was often away.”

“But how are you going to manage now that Charles is gone?”

Francesca didn’t have an answer to her plight, but she knew she had to find a solution, and soon, or things would go from bad to worse.

“The tenanted farm cottages are still ours, but only because they are within the boundary walls of Chapel Grange. The land the tenants used to farm is now in the hands of someone else, and…”

“Is that a problem?” Ruth asked.

“I think so. Or it could be. You see, our tenants have no way of earning a living and subsequently no way of paying their rent. They need the fields and the land that was lost to earn their daily bread. If they have no income, I will either have to evict them, or find a buyer for the cottages. I don’t want to sell.”

“But you think you might have to.” Ruth looked concerned.

“The land and everything on it was to have been Theo’s inheritance. If it is sold, there will be nothing for him to inherit. But Ruth, you didn’t come here to hear my woes. Let’s talk of other things and brighten the mood before you have to leave. Tell me all the gossip. What has happened amongst our friends since I’ve been shut away?”

“Francesca…” Ruth rested her hands calmly in her lap, and said, “I’ve been thinking, and I might have a solution to your problem.”

“What problem?”

“The problem of Mr. Pentworthy and your tenants.”

“Dear Ruth, I doubt very much you can change my situation. Even I don’t know what to do. But if you have an idea, I’m willing to listen. Tell me, what is this great scheme you have in mind that will ease my troubles?”

Ruth laughed and jumped excitedly to her feet. “I will speak to someone I know. He’s a friend of Nathan’s and lives not too far from us, in Marlow. If he’s willing, I shall ask him to lend you his steward. His steward is an excellent man-of-business and knows more about husbandry than most. But more I cannot say. Both men might be averse to the idea, and I don’t want to give you false hope.”

“Even false hope is better than no hope,” Francesca said with a sigh.

“Perhaps if Pentworthy was asked to retire and a new man was put in his place, your circumstances might change. However, I think what I have in mind might work.”

Not long after, Francesca walked Ruth to her carriage, and waving farewell, Francesca was left with a feeling that her life was about to drastically change.

BUY LINKS: https://books2read.com/u/4Apone

Fleeting Encounters: Lady Francesca

ISBN: 978-1-7397710-2-7

Publisher: priceplacebooks

Electronic Publication: February 2022

Editor: Pamela Tyner

Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

About Arabella Sheen

Arabella Sheen is a British author of contemporary romance and likes nothing more than the challenge of starting a new novel with fresh ideas and inspiring characters.

One of the many things Arabella loves to do is to read. And when she’s not researching or writing about romance, she is either on her allotment sowing and planting with the seasons or she is curled on the sofa with a book, while pandering to the demands of her attention-seeking cat.

Having lived and worked in the Netherlands as a theatre nurse for nearly twenty years, she now lives in the south-west of England with her family.

Arabella hopes her readers have as much pleasure from her romance stories as she has in writing them.

Social Media

Website: http://www.arabellasheen.co.uk/

Twitter: http://twitter.com/ArabellaSheen

Facebook Author: https://www.facebook.com/ArabellaSheenAuthor

Monday, 12 December 2022

Coming Soon... Arabella Sheen

UPDATE...

I've received amazing artwork for my latest novel...

The release date of this novel is on the way!!!

Saturday, 3 December 2022

FLEETING ENCOUNTERS: Lady Francesca - Arabella Sheen - Excerpt One

Fleeting Encounters:

Lady Francesca

Arabella Sheen

Fleeting Encounters Series … offers erotic bedtime reading

Dare Lady Francesca Chapel bed down with her steward?

Can Francesca and Alexander work together, or will their passion for one another stand in their way?

Content Warning: Contains erotic love scenes

CHAPTER ONE - Excerpt 1

Lady Francesca Chapel was dressed from head to foot in black. Lifting a handkerchief trimmed with black lace to her eyes, she carefully dabbed the falling tears away from her cheeks. She felt sorry for herself. Not because she mourned the loss of her husband whom she had recently buried, but because she now had to face the world alone.

Before her marriage, Francesca had been cossetted and cared for. Firstly, by her parents, who had provided for her physical and earthly needs, and then secondly, by a series of governesses, all with varying skills in the art of enabling a young lady to take her place in society. Francesca had been educated with the talents required to ensnare an eligible spouse. And then her life had changed. She had married Lord Charles Chapel and her idyllic world had altered beyond recognition.

Charles had been a hard man to please, both in and out of the bedchamber. And as a husband…well, he hadn’t been cruel exactly, merely unthinkingly neglectful.

Often, for months at a time, Francesca had been left alone at Chapel Grange to fill her days with idleness while Charles, free to come and go as he pleased, had traveled to London to follow his pleasures and deborturous pursuits.

It had annoyed Francesca that her days and evenings were lonely, but she hadn’t complained. However, her solitary nights were another matter. She’d been thankful for Charles’s prolonged absences. The chance to crawl into bed and curl beneath the sheets to sleep alone had been most welcome.

“If you would care to be seated, Lady Francesca.” Mr. Adams, the family’s lawyer handling the affairs of the estate, pointed toward a chair positioned at one end of the long drawing room table. “We shall begin the reading of the will as soon as your son, Lord Chapel, joins us.”

Francesca, if she was honest with herself, was a little intimidated by the lawyer’s manner. He was overbearing and was quite crotchety at times.

Like many of the family retainers her husband had employed, Mr. Adams was of senior years and set in his ways. But Francesca hoped to change things. Depending on the outcome of the will, she wanted to make improvements to how things were run at Chapel Grange…if only she dared.

Looking around, she noticed the room was full of strangers all dressed in dark, sobering black. A few faces were familiar, but most of the people she assumed were distant relatives that she’d never met.

Even though Charles had been head of the family, he’d never mixed with his kinfolk, yet since his death, members of the Chapel dynasty were crawling from the woodwork with the sole intention of latching on to anything and everything that remained of Charles—namely his wealth.

“Mr. Adams, is it really necessary to have Theo here with us when the will is read?” Francesca sat and rested her trembling hands in her lap. She hoped no one would notice her nervousness. “He’s so young and is still grieving the loss of his father.”

“My lady, I’m afraid it’s advisable that he does so. If Master Theo…” Mr. Adams coughed, adjusted his cravat, and continued. “Forgive me, I had meant to say Lord Chapel. If Lord Theodor Chapel should have questions concerning his inheritance or any entitlements from his father’s estate, I shall be on hand to answer them. He will soon be of an age to manage his own affairs and will need to know how to proceed.

“But my son is only seventeen and―” Francesca fell silent when she caught sight of Theo.

Her son was standing in the doorway, listening. He looked pale and anxious, and she wondered what was playing on his mind. Was he, like her, concerned about their uncertain future at Chapel Grange?

Catching Theo’s attention, Mr. Adams signaled for Theo to take the vacant chair at the head of the table. He then seated himself and gestured for the others to follow suit.

Everyone waited with strained anticipation for the reading of the will to begin, and when Mr. Adams withdrew several documents from a folder and laid them with great aplomb on the table, the room fell silent. The atmosphere was tense.

The graveness of the occasion was upon them, but none, including Francesca, was prepared for the outcome.

Mr. Adams spoke with solemn gravity as he read the will. And those who heard it were in shock.

“Having read the will and told you of the late Lord Chapel’s wishes, it is now my duty to inform everyone that having paid off some of his lordship’s gaming debts, there is nothing remaining in his lordship’s banking accounts.” Mr. Adams paused and glanced around the room. He appeared to be waiting for a reaction, and he got one. There was a ripple of muffled astonishment and discontent murmured by several. “What little that remains of the estate and its lands are to be passed to his son, Lord Theodor Chapel. Lady Francesca, if she consents, is to act as trustee and administrator of the estate until his lordship comes of age.”

A silence fell as a realization of the situation sank in.

It seemed Charles had gambled away all his land and monies, and also Francesca’s sizable dowry. The only things remaining for Theodor to inherit were the hereditary title, the house itself, and a few acres of land that surrounded the property.

Not even the farms with tenant incomes had been saved. They had vanished amid the mounting payments for wagering debts, along with the estate’s woodland and meadow pastures.

“Thank you, Mr. Adams,” Francesca said with all the dignity she could muster. “We are most obliged to you for coming here and telling us how things stand. I’m sure―”

“This cannot be all we are to hear, Francesca. You cannot dismiss this matter out of hand.” The protest came from Mr. George Stanley, Charles’s cousin by marriage. “You must ask Mr. Adams to provide proof that Charles has indeed left nothing for any of us in his will. There must be an error. Charles was wealthy. He had money to spare. Why, whenever he stayed at his club in London, he always visited the gaming tables and seemed sufficiently plump in the pocket. Always had the ready to hand.”

“George, please. Let us not talk of this now,” Francesca pleaded. “Not while Theo is with us.”

George shrugged. “The boy has to learn what his father was really like sometime. He has to discover Charles’s true character. Your husband was a gambler and a ne’er-do-well, and everyone knew it. But even though, on some occasions he sailed close to the wind, more than once he hinted that he was going to leave my wife, and of course, myself, well provided for in his will. I never once thought he would die short of funds.”

“My father was not a waster, nor was he a good-for-nothing.” Theo was enraged. He stood, and as he did, the chair he’d been sitting on flipped back and landed sideward on the floor. “Sir, if you persist in maligning my father’s name, I will have to call you out…or give you a corker.”

Francesca suspected Theo had no idea as to the meaning behind his threats. The idea of Theo meeting George at dawn to duel with pistols or fight with the fists was ridiculous. Looking at the two angered faces before her, Francesca hoped she would be able to defuse the situation without Theo losing face, but somehow that outcome seemed unlikely. George looked as if he was about to accept the challenge from her son. On trembling legs, Francesca left her chair, walked to the door, and held it open. With a withering glance in George’s direction, she made it clear she expected him to leave.

“George, Theo and I are grateful for yours and Bridget’s condolences. However, I’m sure you’ll understand if I say the day has been a long one, and we would like time to ourselves so we might come to terms with our situation. I still have business to conduct with Mr. Adams and would be grateful if you would excuse us.”

“What about the others?” George asked with petulance in his voice.

Francesca’s hands were damp with nervous sweat. She had never taken the lead in a conversation like this before. Charles had always been there to deal with any unpleasantness.

“Naturally everyone will be asked to leave,” she said.

That seemed to appease George, and with a toss of his head, he and Bridget, along with the other remaining relatives, marched from the room, leaving Francesca and Theo alone with the lawyer.

With the door to the drawing room firmly shut, Francesca returned to the table and took a seat again. She signaled for Mr. Adams and Theo to join her.

“Mr. Adams, now that the unpleasantness has been dealt with, what do you suggest we do?”

The lawyer looked perplexed. “Your ladyship, it is not for me to advise you. I was here merely to read the will as written. If it is advice you wish to receive, I suggest you consult his lordship’s…I mean his late lordship’s man-of-business, Mr. Pentworthy.”

Francesca’s heart sank. Only a fool would take note of anything Mr. Pentworthy said. It wasn’t so much his age that contributed to his incompetence, it was the fact he was behind the times and showed no interest in new developments of any kind. Progress was not in his vocabulary. But perhaps his inability to save the estate from ruin had not been his fault. It was possible Charles had overruled any suggestions Mr. Pentworthy might have made for improvements to Chapel Grange.

However, what really bothered Francesca about the whole business of having no funds, was that she had not been made aware of her husband’s financial situation…or lack of. The fact Charles had become virtually penniless had passed her by.

Had she known about the debts Charles had incurred, she could have tried to stop his gambling habit and persuaded him to invest for Theodor’s future. As it was, she had no idea what income remained or what they had to live from.

“Come morning, I will speak with Pentworthy and try and get to the bottom of this,” she said. “Theo and I must find a way to save Chapel Grange, otherwise, I fear bailiffs will be knocking at the door and we shall be made homeless.”

“The first thing you must tackle is the outstanding payment of debts, Lady Francesca. The sooner that is achieved, the sooner you and Lord Theo will know where you stand.”

“And how will I know who is owed what? It is all so confusing.”

“Have no fear, my lady. As soon as word spreads about your husband’s passing, those with legitimate claims will be calling. And don’t forget, Pentworthy will be here to assist you.”

“We will need more than Pentworthy to help us survive. We will need a miracle.”