SummaryLushly descriptive novels set in England with complex character relationships, rich historical detail, and evocative atmosphere. Some books also contain a mystery or suspense subplot.
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StatsGenre: Adult historical romance (regency England, primarily)
Series length: All standalone novels Violence: Light to Moderate, depending on the novel Magic/Supernatural: Generally none Romance/Sex: Strong, usually clean, though there a few books that contain books that reference sex (including outside of wedlock), though handled with care and discretion. Christian/spiritual element: Overt Christian content Recommendation: Readers who like vividly described historical novels You might like these novels if you like... Jane Austen and the Bronte Sisters To Purchase
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When first I knew her, I thought her an amusing scrap of girl, silly and a bit grubby from her mornings spent in the gardens. When not pottering about out of doors, she seemed always to be reading some poetic nonsense or other and loved nothing more than to pose the most disturbing questions. Still, I liked her even then and, I think, she admired me. But her father took notice and pronounced me unsuitable, effectively pruning our young friendship before it could grow into anything. I soon forgot about Miss Charlotte Lamb. Or so I convinced myself. Years passed, and when I saw her again she was altogether changed. |
Lady of Milkweed Manor
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I remember it clearly, although it was years ago now. For I remember everything. The year was 1810. I was a girl of fifteen, standing on the arched Honeystreet Bridge--which I often did when I was not needed in Father's shop--gazing upon the brightly painted boats that floated past. There a blue barge, and there a yellow-and-white narrowboat. In reality, I was searching. Searching the face of every person on every narrowboat that passed by on the newly completed K and A Canal. There were not many women, but a few. For though men worked the canals as pilots, navigators, and merchants, entire families sometimes lived aboard--as wives and children made for less costly crews. |
The Apothecary's Daughter
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For years, I could not recall the day without a smoldering coal of remorse burning within me. I tried to bury the memory deep in the dark places of my mind, but now and again something would evoke it--a public house placard, a column of figures, a finely dressed gentleman--and I would wince as the memory appeared and then scuttled away, like a silverfish under the door. . . |
The Silent Governess
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The end of the only life I've known, thought Mariah Aubrey, looking back through the carriage window at the shrinking figures of her mother and sister. nineteen-year-old Julia stood in the foreground, shoulders heaving as she wept. The sight seared Mariah's heart. Their mother stood behind, hand on Julia's arm, in consolation, in empathy--perhaps even in restraint. And there came their father, down the steps of Attwood Park. He had not come out to bid her farewell. he would not, he insisted, "sanction vice, nor seek to lessen its disgrace." But now he draped one arm around his wife and the other around his younger daughter, turning and shepherding them back inside, back into the only home Mariah had ever known. And might never see again. |
The Girl in the Gatehouse
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He is reading my letters now too... Margaret Elinor Macy sat at her dressing table, heart pounding. her face in the looking glass shone pale beneath curly dark hair, her light blue eyes anxious. She glanced from her reflection to the letter in her hand. The seal had been pried open and unsuccessfully re-pressed. Her mother's new husband had obviously begun checking her post--perhaps fearful the next invitation she received would not be to a ball but rather to take refuge in another house, out of reach and out from under his power. |
The Maid of Fairbourne Hall
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Something is amiss, Emma thought, immediately upon entering her tidy bedchamber. What is it...? She scanned the neatly made bed, orderly side table, and dressing chest....There. She stepped forward, heart squeezing. |
The Tutor's Duaghter
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We observed the first of May as we always did. We dressed somberly and rode in the black barouche from Buckleigh Manor into Beaworthy. It was tradition, my mother said. But I knew she had another reason for visiting the village on that particular day. Lady Amelia Midwinter wanted to make her presence known--make sure no one dared forget. |
The Dancing Master
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I sat across the table from the man I most admired, feeling self-conscious. How I wished I'd taken more time with my appearance. But my meeting with the housekeeper had run long, allowing me barely enough time to wash my face and repin my hair in a simple coil. I had planned to wear a new evening dress--golden satin with red roses embroidered throughout the bodice--but instead I'd slipped into the plain ivory gown I usually wore. it had far fewer fastenings. |
The Secret of Pembrooke Park
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Lady Marianna Mayfield sat at her dressing table--clothed, curled, and powdered. She feigned interest in her reflection in the mirror, but in reality, she watched the housemaid behind her, packing away every last one of her belongings. |
Lady Maybe
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Infuriating artists...Captain Stephen Marshall Overtree grumbled to himself as he walked along the harbor of the unfamiliar town, looking into each shop window. He glanced down at the crumpled paper in his hand, and read again his brother's hastily scrawled note. |
The Painter's Daughter
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