It was only a torn piece of paper—until Phoebe turned it over. A piece of watercolor paper wasn’t something Phoebe would have expected Mr. Coulton-Jones to carry with him when meeting someone about a horse. But after what happened today, she began to suspect that there was much about him that was unexpected. Perhaps the smooth facade he showed to the rest of the world was far more fake than she had realized. She flipped the piece over. A circular symbol had been drawn on the paper, but the majority of it was missing because of the torn edge. The symbol had two long narrow leaves radiating from the center, and the stalks of two flowers in between the leaves. She gasped and nearly dropped the paper. She recognized this symbol. Or rather, it triggered a hazy memory from her childhood. She had seen the symbol carved into wood somewhere, but she couldn’t remember where or when. She remembered the smell of dust and maybe a bit of dirt and mold. She also knew that the symbol was circu...

Most of us have never been a debutante, but historical romance readers can imagine the flutter of a first Season—the nervous anticipation, the whispered judgments, the delicate balance of being noticed without being too noticed. For modern sensibilities, the Regency debut can feel both enchanting and impossibly rigid. At its heart lies a simple but loaded question: at what age was a young woman considered ready to enter society? In Jane Austen’s world, the answer was far more fluid than a single birthday. A girl was “out” when her family declared her available for courtship, and this could happen anywhere from fifteen to twenty or even later, depending on family circumstances, maturity, and social strategy. Take Lydia Bennet in Pride and Prejudice. At just fifteen, she is already “out,” attending balls and flirting shamelessly. Austen uses her to show the dangers of launching a girl too early—Lydia’s impulsiveness and lack of guidance lead to near-ruin. By contrast, her older sis...

Mr. Coulton-Jones didn’t see Phoebe because she was sitting behind the enormous flower arrangement, but he had just approached a man who stood against the wall near the fireplace. Mr. Coulton-Jones’s fine, coffee-brown hair had been forced into a fashionable style, and his cravat was elegantly tied, his shirt-points high but not overly so. His jacket was perhaps a couple of years old but not out of style, and it suited his muscular physique admirably. “Aunt.” Phoebe nodded toward the two men. “He only just arrived a moment ago.” She wasn’t certain how she ought to feel upon seeing him again. Now that she knew the connection between the symbol she had found on the Heath, her late Uncle Wynwood and Uncle Sol, Mr. Coulton-Jones’s meeting with that strange man took on a more sinister cast. Was he involved in something to oppose the government or the war? Because if Uncle Sol were investigating something for the Home Office, it possibly involved one of those two. Yet remembering her co...

Phoebe remained aware of their surroundings as they walked the narrow streets, and at one point, she thought that they were being followed. She turned to boldly confront the man following behind them, and when his heartbeat pulsed and he pulled a knife from his sleeve, she made a fist and punched him solidly in the nose. His cry of pain as he dropped to the cobblestones echoed off the buildings on either side. Even better, it accomplished what she had intended—two other men who had been lying in wait several yards ahead of them on either side of the road abruptly withdrew. The three women were not accosted by anyone else on the way back to the tannery. —From Lady Wynwood’s Spies, Volume 9: Shelter Curious how it all begins? Click below to read the beginning of Lady Wynwood’s Spies, Volume 1: Archer for free and step into a world of Regency intrigue, danger, and slow-burn romance. 👉 Read the excerpt now 💌 Prefer to ease into the series? You can join my newsletter and get ...