Since this is National Matchmaker Day, I thought to introduce you to Muriel, Countess of Claremont, a matchmaker supreme, who appears in many of my stories and will be a character in the next one, Rogue’s Holiday.
The countess is a wealthy dowager (in her late 60s) with an estate in greater London. She has silver hair and soft gray eyes; she wears tasteful silk brocades, pearls and sometimes, feathers. Usually, she wears a bejeweled quizzing glass. She has the voice of authority but a tender heart. When giving advice to her young friends that she has taken under her wing, she can be stern. Men like Lord Alvanley, a Regency buck and friend of the Prince Regent, adore her and she them.
Muriel loved her husband dearly (as you’ll see in A Secret Scottish Christmas when she tells of how he proposed to her and we learn the secret behind her pearls). Muriel refers to him as “the earl” and often remembers him fondly. Since his death, Muriel has given her life to her friends and to assuring each finds love.
She likes honorable rakes and matchmaking is her favorite hobby. In The Twelfth Night Wager, she managed the redheaded rake, Lord Eustace, quite nicely. And she enjoys the card game Loo.
In Against the Wind (book 2 in the Agents of the Crown series), she is much taken with the spy Sir Martin Powell, as you can see from their meeting:
In Against the Wind (book 2 in the Agents of the Crown series), she is much taken with the spy Sir Martin Powell, as you can see from their meeting:
“Good evening, my lord, my lady.” The dowager countess smiled graciously at the Ormonds, and Martin thought her voice quite deep for a woman. The voice of authority. But those soft gray eyes suggested a kind heart beneath the finery and formal greeting. “So good of you to attend.”
“Countess,” Ormond said, bowing. “My wife and I were most pleased to accept your invitation.”
The woman paused for Ormond to finish then quickly turned her attention to Martin. Raising a bejeweled quizzing glass, she slowly perused him, as if inspecting a new horse for her stable, while directing her words to the marquess. “Who is this dashingly handsome man you’ve seen fit to bring with you tonight, Ormond? And where”—she paused with dramatic emphasis, allowing her quizzing glass to drop on its chain—“have you been keeping him?”
Martin chuckled. “Sir Martin Powell at your service, Countess. And, to answer your question, I have been living on the Continent. However, I am most grateful to be included in your lovely soirée this evening.”
“We can always use another knight to attend our many damsels, Sir Martin. I’m delighted you’ve come.” The countess raised a silver eyebrow. “Do I detect a hint of the French in your voice?”
“Very perceptive, my lady.” He gave her a mischievous grin. “Yes, you might.”
He said no more, and when it was clear he would not, the countess offered her hand. Without a word Martin took it and bowed low. When he glanced up, it was to see her eyes shining with apparent delight. He really did love older women of great character, and he suspected that the countess was one of these, formidable in all things with a well-hidden soft heart. The smile he gave her was sincere.
Straightening, he gave her a wink, to which she returned a “Humph.” At least, that’s what it sounded like. But the older woman seemed to enjoy his impudence, just as he’d thought she might.
“I must be off, children. See that you dance with the young maidens, Sir Martin. I expect they will all be gawking at you. Perhaps having been in France you can manage that new dance the Prince Regent introduced at Court last year, that outrageous waltz. I’ve avoided it as long as possible, but with all the fuss I’ve had to include it in tonight’s repertoire.” Then the countess dipped her head at the threesome and turned to leave. Glancing over her shoulder at Martin, she glided away just as he thought he heard another “Humph.”
“It appears you’ve made a conquest, Martin,” Lady Ormond said with a small laugh, “one that will serve you well in London society. If my eyes did not deceive me, our intimidating hostess was quite taken. It’s rare to see her so enamored with a man. Few impress her.”
“She reminds me of my mother, another grand lady,” Martin noted as he watched the countess sail smoothly away.
Muriel matched Rose Collinwood with an Irish barrister in The Shamrock & The Rose, and her close friend Lady Emily Picton with a wealthy Scottish shipbuilder in The Holly & The Thistle. In A Secret Scottish Christmas she is determined to see the Scottish lass, Aileen Stephen properly matched but which of the Powell twins will it be?
She speaks ill of the “scandalous waltz”, introduced to court by the Prince Regent in 1816, but includes it in her ball because everyone is clamoring for it. (Her balls are the highlight of the London Season and no politician or member of the nobility would dare miss one as she can be a formidable ally—or enemy.)
Her favorite drink is The Spy Madeira wine (Emily brings her a bottle in The Holly & The Thistle).
The stories featuring Muriel can be found on Amazon. Just click the covers in the sidebars on the blog, or see them on my Amazon Author Page.
ReplyDeleteThe terms "romance novel" and "historical romance" are ambiguous,
because the word "romance", and the associated word "romantic",
have a number of different meanings. In particular,
on the one hand there is the mass-market genre of "fiction dealing with love",
harlequin romance,[2] and on the other hand, "a romance" can also be defined as
"a fictitious narrative in prose or verse; the interest of which turns upon marvelous
and uncommon incidents"Novel editing