Brenton, Lord Mallery, sniffed again. Shook his head in denial. Ridiculous to imagine Lillian, his Lillian, was the wearer of that country orchard scent. Or to picture her here, at a pleasure house ball. Bloody hell, perhaps his family’s worst fears had become a reality and he’d morphed from a recluse into a madman.
His cousin, Michael, stared at him and snorted. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
Brent shook his head again. ‘Must be imagining things. I know only one person who wears that perfume and she mixes it herself, her own blend of citrus fruits. That woman is a lady and a duke’s daughter and certainly wouldn’t be attending a courtesan’s ball.’
“I remember who you are, Lady Melton,” Captain Belling said in a cold voice, barely glancing over his shoulder at them. “The only thing I don’t know is why the hell you and that child are still anywhere near Waterloo, when all women were ordered to evacuate a week ago.”
“That child has a name, Captain. His name is Daniel, or if you are a stickler for formality, Viscount Melton.”The captain turned and frowned down at her son, who stared back at him with blatant curiosity and a small amount of animosity, as forthright as any young and intelligent child. Even at his young age, Daniel was a shrewd judge of character, and had been instructed by his uncles to be careful about trusting strangers. When the Captain turned back to the tattered maps spread over his makeshift desk, Anne ignored his unspoken dismissal and used the time to observe the infuriating man without having his condemning gaze fixed on her, as it had been a week earlier at the Duke and Duchess of Richmond’s extravagant Brussels ball. If she and Daniel were to travel with his group of wounded soldiers, Anne wanted to learn as much as possible about their leader. Her son’s survival depended on her being well informed and prepared for any eventuality.
Dust filtered down through a gaping hole in the high roof and settled in the Captain’s hair, turning it a darker brown than his normal golden yellow, though a bucketful of dust wouldn’t make any difference to the state of his stained uniform. His left pants’ leg had been sliced open to the knee, the two sides pinned clear of the large bandage winding down most of his leg, while a spindly wooden crutch was propped against the table.
His large physique had attracted her even before their dance at the ball, though his striking physical attributes didn’t compensate for his belligerent attitude, or for his obvious displeasure at encountering her both in Brussels and near the battlefield. Still, the Captain had undoubtedly scowled in a similar fashion at many women he’d met either in Brussels or at Waterloo, as she’d heard him spout his narrow-minded view at the ball to his fellow officers. The Captain believed that in the vicinity of battles only men should be allowed. Not women, and especially not ladies.
Pagans burned a great log and a mammoth candle on the 21st of December, the shortest day in the year, because it was seen as the turning-point in the conflict between the contending forces of winter and spring.
From Harpers Bazaaar “The Yule-block, or Christmas-log, with its warm welcome, extending even to the poor and the stranger as they gathered around the hospitable board is being gradually supplanted by the Christmas-tree.”
Formerly the Yule-log, a huge section of the birch, was cut from a tree selected on Candlemas-day, which so late as the time of Queen Elizabeth was the last day of the Christmas holidays. On the following Christmas-eve it was dragged in and placed upon the hearth with great ceremony, the merry-makers pulling with a will, and singing the while the modernized Christmas carol commencing,
“Come, bring with a noise,
My merrie, merrie boys,
The Christmas-log to the firing.”
It was then kindled with a brand from last year’s Christmas fire, which, if it was not thus kept continually burning, still linked the merrymaking of one Christmas-time to that of another.
In Ramsgate, Kent, and the Isle of Thanet, the custom styled “hodening” is still in vogue. The “hoden,” which appears to be a cross between the “white horse” and the Klapperbock of the Germans, is accompanied by a number of youths in fantastic dress, who go round from door to door ringing bells and singing Christmas carols.
Leaning in, Lord Mallory whispered in Lady Lillian’s ear. “Well, well. I certainly didn’t expect to find you in attendance at a scandalous ball.”
1820 Blackstone House, Twenty miles south of London. Brenton, Earl Mallory, secreted himself behind a life-sized statue of a naked man. Hiding from the two hundred guests spilling through the rooms Lord Browning had opened for the Pleasure House Ball. Clearly he’d suffered a moment of insanity when he’d yielded to his friend’s pleas to accompany him to this ball. ‘For God’s sake, Michael, why are we wasting our time here? I’ve no intention of engaging a mistress and….’
Brent shook his head. ‘Must be imagining things. I know only one person who wears that perfume and she mixes it herself. That woman is a lady and a duke’s daughter and certainly wouldn’t be attending a courtesan’s ball.’
‘Good God! You don’t mean−’
Pleasure House ball Book 3 Irresistible Aristocrats books2read.com/suzilovePHB. Lord Mallory, attends his first courtesan’s ball in ten years to appease his concerned friends, though he’d rather stay home and read to his motherless daughters.
Music history from the 17th, 18th, and 19th Centuries. Pianos, pianofortes, harps, viols, violins played during Jane Austen’s times. Musical Instruments were so important in most of the more affluent households in history that large industries grew all around the world to manufacture instruments, musical accessories, and to print sheet music. Musical instruction and encouragement could be found everywhere and both young ladies and gentlemen were encouraged to have musical appreciation. And of course, playing music was on the list of social requirements for all young ladies desirous of becoming a wife and homemaker.
London became Europe’s leading centre for the manufacture of scientific instruments and this led to the manufacture of more musical instruments as well as factories developed and rail transport helped the faster distribution of goods to regional areas. One of the first places that music was used to tell stories and to share enjoyment was in Christmas music. Because music was such an integral part of households, music was always a feature in Magazines. There were advertisements everywhere for musical instruments for sale, for sheet music, and for music lessons. And of course, of most interest to the ladies were the hundreds of fashion plates included in magazines where people were depicted with their musical instruments.
Looking for a gift for a fan of the Bridgertons and Jane Austen? What did men wear in the early 1800s? Suits, hats, shoes, underclothing, military and bedroom fashions. #christmas #holidays #Bridgerton #RegencyFashion #JaneAusten #BritishHistory
Because wild boar was the most feared animal, serving it at a meal represented the victory of good over evil. During the 17th century, wild boar became extinct in Britain so a pig’s head was used instead. The head was often presented on a decorated platter with an apple in its mouth and carried in by bearers in a dramatic manner. The tradition of serving ham for Christmas lunch or dinner probably came from the idea of serving boar’s head or roasted boar joints to guests at Christmas.
To say nothing of the roast beef and plum-pudding, Christmas pies, furmity, and snap-dragons, the Yule-log and the mistletoe have not finally abdicated, while the boar’s head, decorated with rosemary or prickly holly, maintains its place at the English Christmas dinner, and is still served up in great state at the royal Christmas table. At Oxford, U.K., the boar’s head was carried in by the strongest of the guardsmen, singing a Christmas carol, and preceded by a forester, a huntsman, and a couple of pages dressed in silk and carrying the mustard which was regarded as a great luxury and an infallible digester.
The following celebrated carol of the Boar’s Head is found in the book of ‘Christmasse Carolles’ published in 1521 by Wynkyn de Warde:
The boar’s head in bande bring I,
With garlandes gay and rosemary,
I pray you all synge merely,
Qui estis in convivio.
“The bore’s head, I understande,
Is the chefe servyce in this lande.
Loke wherever it be fande,
Servite cum cantico.
“Be gladde, lordes, both more and lasse,
For this bath ordayned our stewarde,
To chere you all this Christmasse,
The bore’s head with mustarde.”
At Oxford, U.K., the boar’s head was carried in by the strongest of the guardsmen, singing a Christmas carol, and preceded by a forester, a huntsman, and a couple of pages dressed in silk and carrying the mustard which was regarded as a great luxury and an infallible digester. A similar custom appears to have prevailed in Genoa in the times of the Dorias when a boar decorated with branches of laurel and accompanied by trumpeters was annually presented to the Doria family by the Abbot of San Antonio at Pré at midday on the 24th of December.
Another Christmas Tradition is kisisng under the Mistletoe. So have fun this Christmas and find someone to kiss. The problem in hotter climates is to find the Mistletoe, of course. Darn!
Mistletoe was used by Druid priests 200 years before the birth of Christ in their winter celebrations. They revered the plant since it had no roots yet remained green during the cold months of winter. The ancient Celtics believed mistletoe to have magical healing powers and used it as an antidote for poison, infertility, and to ward of evil spirits. The plant was also seen as a symbol of peace, and it is said that among Romans, enemies who met under mistletoe would lay down their weapons and embrace.
Scandanavians associated the plant with Frigga, their goddess of love, and it may be from this that we derive the custom of kissing under the mistletoe. Those who kissed under the mistletoe had the promise of happiness and good luck in the following year. Mistletoe was associated with Christmas as both a decoration under which lovers kiss, as well as a protection from witches and demons. Sounds romantic, although mistletoe is actually a parasitic plant that grows on other trees or plants and comes in many varieties.
In Britain, mistletoe was mainly found in the western and southwestern parts, so the custom wasn’t even followed in all parts of England. But where the mistletoe custom was followed, it was hung in doorways and the greenery was watched by young gentlemen in hopes of catching a pretty girl to kiss, usually on the cheek.
Traditionally, a man was allowed to kiss a woman who was standing underneath mistletoe and bad luck would befall any woman who refused. In some places, it was the custom to pick a berry for each kiss and when all the berries were gone, no more kisses could be taken.
The Viscount’s Pleasure House. Irresistible Aristocrats Book 1 By Suzi Love. Three naive country ladies coerce their way into London’s most infamous brothel and the last Sultan’s gala. Disenchanted Viscount tutoring three Regency Ladies. What could go wrong?
The Viscount’s Pleasure House allows Justin, the most notorious Viscount in London, to fund his search for his missing mother and sisters. But after three years catering to the sordid whims of the perpetually bored Upper Ten Thousand in early Victorian times, the Virile Viscount announces his retirement.
Justin plans to sell his exotically themed brothel and cease all Arabian Nights held on his estate, a desperate attempt to cleanse his blackened soul and perhaps revive his deadened sexual interest. So when Lady Chrissie Wellsby begs Justin to tutor her two friends in the amorous arts in exchange for information about his family, Justin is torn. For though he’ll do anything to discover the whereabouts of his family, including teaching three naive ladies how to act like well-schooled courtesans, he loathes being forced into this last performance as a sex God served by his harem.
Having Chrissie willingly act as his sex slave stirs the world-weary viscount into the wildest performance ever given at the Sultan’s tent, but does little to convince Chrissie that he has fallen head over heels in love with her and put his rakish ways behind him. Justin enjoys a wonderful reunion with his family but feels cheated of his chance at love until Chrissie’s friends encourage her to trust the newly reformed viscount.
Chrissie organizes one final gala at the Pleasure House, an erotic night of lovemaking for two to prove her love for Justin and show him she longs to be his wife. https://books2read.com/suziloveTVPH The Viscount’s Pleasure House. Irresistible Aristocrats Book 1 By Suzi Love.
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