Winter Wishes
A Regency Christmas Anthology
Cheryl Bolen
Bronwen Evans
Lana Williams
Bree Wolf
Collette Cameron
Heather Boyd
Sasha Cottman
Samantha Grace
Donna Cummings
Barbara Monajem
Suzanna Medeiros
Wendy Vella
Alina K. Field
Contents
Winter Wishes
Copyright
One Room at the Inn ~ Cheryl Bolen
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About Cheryl Bolen
Invitation to Pleasure ~ Bronwen Evans
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About Bronwen Evans
A Rogue’s Reputation ~ Lana Williams
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
About Lana Williams
Dared & Kissed - The Scotsman's Yuletide Bride ~ Bree Wolf
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About Bree Wolf
A Yuletide Highlander ~ Collette Cameron
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About Collette Cameron
One Enchanted Christmas ~ Heather Boyd
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
About Heather Boyd
Mistletoe and Kisses ~ Sasha Cottman
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
About Sasha Cottman
Must Love Majors ~ Samantha Grace
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About Samantha Grace
A Twelfth Night to Remember ~ Donna Cummings
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About Donna Cummings
A Kiss Upon the Wind ~ Barbara Monajem
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
About Barbara Monajem
Miss Hathaway’s Wish ~ Suzanna Medeiros
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About Suzanna Medeiros
The Earl from Christmas Past ~ Wendy Vella
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About Wendy Vella
The Duke She Despised ~ Alina K. Field
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
About Alina K. Field
Dear Reader…
Winter Wishes
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Cheryl Bolen and USA Today Bestselling authors Bronwen Evans, Lana Williams, Bree Wolf and Collette Cameron are joined by Heather Boyd, Sasha Cottman, Samantha Grace, Donna Cummings, Barbara Monajem, Suzanna Medeiros, Wendy Vella, and Alina K. Field in this exciting new anthology of Regency Christmas Romances.
Book and Cover Design by Heather Boyd
October 2019
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced nor used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for use of brief quotations in a book review.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The stories in this book are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used facetiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ONE ROOM AT THE INN
~ A Lords of Eton Novella ~
by
* * *
CHERYL BOLEN
What more can happen to lovely young widow Charlotte Hale? She has to sell her wedding ring to buy food. A heartless landlady evicts her and her children from their London lodgings on the coldest night in a generation. And now Charlotte’s afraid this handsome stranger she’s traveling with will have her arrested for stealing a coat for her son if he learns her true identity. Dare she trust him to take her to the only person who can help her?
* * *
Lord Philip Fenton promised the dying Captain Hale he would look after his family, but when he returns to England at Christmas, he arrives too late. The unfortunate family has been turned out of their home. He had thought the lovely widow calling herself Mrs. Leeming might be Mrs. Hale, but she is not. Nevertheless, he must help this impoverished family reach their destination in Lincolnshire, where he’s traveling to see his family. As is his custom, he conceals his aristocratic title, traveling under the name Mr. Fenton.
* * *
They’re both concealing information, but as the journey continues the barriers between them lower. He gave her his word he was a gentleman. As a man of honor, he cannot allow her to know how her very presence creates a yearning in him, how he aches to take her in his arms, how one word from her could make this his best Christmas ever . . .
* * *
Copyright © 2019 by Cheryl Bolen
Chapter 1
Through all her travails Charlotte Hale had managed never to cry in front of her children. But today, as she slipped the gold wedding ring from her finger and handed it to the aged jeweler for the insignificant sum of three guineas, she was incapable of staunching the tears that had pent up inside of her since her husband’s death the previous year.
The jeweler’s craggy face collapsed in empathy, and he spoke in a gentle voice. “I cannot take your ring if it distresses you so, madam.”
“No, please,” she said, panicked. Her tears abruptly ceased. She was in no position to be sentimental. She had to be strong for Susan and Eddie. “My husband would have been happy that the ring he gave with love will help feed our children.” Sniff. Sniff.
Charlotte tossed a glance to the back of the shop where her wide-eyed young daughter was ogling the locked cases of brilliant jewels. The child was so mesmerized by an emerald and diamond necklace lying in a bed of ivory satin, she was not aware of her mother’s sorrow. Relief rushed over the mother. She could not have borne it if her children shared their mother’s melancholy.
“Then I’ll just put your guineas in a little pouch for you,” the jeweler said, turning his back as he unlocked a drawer. This was followed by the clanging of coins. He spun around, smiling, and handed her a small, well-worn leather bag the size of a man’s fist. “God bless you, Missus,” he said as he handed Charlotte the pouch.
She smiled back, then turned to Susan. “Come, my darling. We must get home to your brother by dark.” It was not quite four in the afternoon, yet night was close to falling. Another thing she hated about December.
“Bundle yerslelves up,” the kindly man said. “They say it’s the coldest December in memory.”
“It certainly is,” she agreed.
As Charlotte and her daughter walked hand in hand along the busy Strand, Charlotte merely nodded as Susan rattled on and on about the lovely necklaces and bracelets she had seen. The widow’s thoughts were on far more grave affairs. How would she spend the three guineas? It wasn’t nearly enough to pay Mrs. Waddingham the half year she was behind in rents. Could she offer the landlady one guinea for now with a promise for the full amount when her modest widow’s pension came? At least she was assured she’d be able to feed the children for the next few weeks.
“Lookey, Mama! A uniform shop that also sells ones for little boys! Can we get one for Eddie? Then he could be an off-ser like Papa!”
Charlotte’s step slowed as she looked into the candlelit shop. It even offered thick woolen greatcoats for very young lads. How she wished she could purchase a little Guards uniform so Eddie could emulate his father, but it might as well have been the king’s own crown for its accessibility.
How grateful she was that children were oblivious to hardships—the missing father, the dwindling food, the wet chill seeping into their very bones. Just so long as their minds were occupied and the deprivation not complete, the little darlings never dwelt on grievances.
As they neared a printer’s shop where men gathered to peer at Mr. Rowlandson’s lewd caricatures, her grip on Susan’s hand tightened. “Oh, look at the lovely white horse,” she said to distract her daughter from the offensive pictures in the shop’s window. “Wouldn’t Eddie love it?”
“My bwother is mad for any horse of any colour.”
“Indeed he is.” It saddened Charlotte that her son was deprived of a father who would have taught him to ride. Edward had promised to buy the lad a pony when he was old enough.
But all Edward’s promises vanished when he’d been killed on a Spanish battlefield.
As they approached the corner and lost the buildings’ shelter, she feared the icy wind that sliced through them would carry away her small daughter. She scooped Susan’s tiny body into her arms as a large cart laden with coal swept past and sprayed them with freezing slush from the filthy streets.
Just as sheets of rain fell from the blackening skies.
Her half boots pounding in and out of conveyances to cross the busy street, Charlotte hurried home as quickly as she dared on the icy pavement. She must get home as soon as she could. Eddie did not always have the sense to get out of the rain, and little Oliver’s elderly grandfather, in whose care she’d left her lad, was often not mindful of the weather.
When she reached Chappell Street where Mrs. Waddingham’s lodgings were located, merrily drenched Eddie and Oliver were running around the little triangular park that fronted their property. She didn’t know which emotion was strongest: anger with Oliver’s grandfather or worry that Eddie would take lung fever. Definitely the latter, she decided.
Then she saw that her son was not wearing his coat. The coldest December in memory. Certainly the coldest December in her four and twenty years. She thrust hand to hips and glared at her son. “Edward Thomas Hale, where is your coat?”
Her fair-haired son stopped in mid stride and smiled up at her in a most boastful fashion. The gaslight’s glow revealed a lad whose cheeks were now exceptionally red and whose hair was exceedingly wet. “I gave it to the urchin.”
Urchin? “I beg that you explain yourself.”
“You always said to be kind and gen-rus to the poor urchins, so when the lad said he wished as he had a warm coat like mine, I gave mine to him.”
Tears welled in her eyes. What was she to do? “Come, love. We must get you warm.” Still holding Susan, she took Eddie’s hand, walked to their house, and began to mount the stairs to their chambers on the second floor. As she approached their rooms, her heart began to drum. A padlock had been put on the door, as well as a sign that read EVICTED.