A day in my life, you say? I don’t know that I have typical days any longer, but I’ll do my best. First of all, my name is Frances Wynn and my title is Countess of Harleigh. It’s a courtesy title I received upon marrying my late husband. In exchange my family gave him just over a million US dollars in the form of my dowry. Such an exchange was rather a “thing” in the 1890s, you see. Wealthy Americans wanted a connection to the aristocracy, and impoverished aristocrats wanted to replenish their coffers. The trade worked to everyone’s satisfaction, excepting, occasionally, the bride.

I was one of those brides. My husband dropped me off at the old manor house in the country while he returned to London and proceeded to spend my dowry on women, drink, and gambling. I did make the occasional trip to town to shop or enjoy the theater, and of course I’d return for the social season. Otherwise, I spent my days supervising repairs to the 300-year-old manor, entertaining the vicar and his wife, arranging flowers, hosting the odd house party, and caring for our daughter—proof that my husband did recall he had a wife from time to time.

You may have noted I called Reggie my ‘late’ husband. He passed away just over a year ago and now that my mourning period has ended, my days are quite different. I live in a lovely little town house in Belgravia and I currently have charge of my younger sister, Lily. She’s traveled from New York to find a lord of her own. I don’t want her to make the same mistake I did, so with all the fortune hunters in town, I must vet her gentlemen callers very carefully. What are their intentions? Who are their family? What are their prospects for the future? I should have inquired as to homicidal tendencies as well, for it appears I’ve allowed a murderer to slip in among her suitors. Now I must flush him out. Bother!

And if that wasn’t enough to keep me busy, the Metropolitan Police seem to suspect I had something to do with my husband’s death. While Reggie was no prize, I assure you, the thought of killing him never entered my head. Since they won’t take my word on the matter, I must find some other way to prove my innocence. But I had best tread lightly as there are some—let’s call them delicate–circumstances surrounding his death. Only two people other than myself are aware of the manner of Reggie’s death and I hope to keep it that way.

So, as you can see, I have my hands full and I really should be off now. It’s been lovely chatting with you but a social call should never last more than fifteen or twenty minutes at most. If you wish to meet up again, you know where to find me.

Giveaway: Leave a comment below for your chance to win a print copy of A Lady’s Guide To Etiquette And Murder. U.S. entries only, please. The giveaway ends June 27, 2018. Good luck everyone!


You can read more about Frances in A Lady’s Guide To Etiquette And Murder, the first book in the “Countess of Harleigh” mystery series, coming June 26, 2018 from Kensington.

In this exciting historical mystery debut set in Victorian England, a wealthy young widow encounters the pleasures—and scandalous pitfalls—of a London social season . . .

Frances Wynn, the American-born Countess of Harleigh, enjoys more freedom as a widow than she did as a wife. After an obligatory year spent mourning her philandering husband, Reggie, she puts aside her drab black gowns, leaving the countryside and her money-grubbing in-laws behind. With her young daughter in tow, Frances rents a home in Belgravia and prepares to welcome her sister, Lily, arriving from New York—for her first London season.

No sooner has Frances begun her new life than the ghosts of her old one make an unwelcome appearance. The Metropolitan police receive an anonymous letter implicating Frances in her husband’s death. Frances assures Inspector Delaney of her innocence, but she’s also keen to keep him from learning the scandalous circumstances of Reggie’s demise. As fate would have it, her dashing new neighbor, George Hazelton, is one of only two other people aware of the full story.

While busy with social engagements on Lily’s behalf, and worrying if Reggie really was murdered, Frances learns of mysterious burglaries plaguing London’s elite. The investigation brings death to her doorstep, and Frances rallies her wits, a circle of gossips, and the ever-chivalrous Mr. Hazelton to uncover the truth. A killer is in their midst, perhaps even among her sister’s suitors. And Frances must unmask the villain before Lily’s season—and their lives—come to a most unseemly end . . .

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Meet the author
Dianne Freeman is a life-long book lover who left the world of corporate finance to pursue her passion for writing. After co-authoring the non-fiction book, Haunted Highway, The Spirits of Route 66, she realized her true love was fiction, historical mystery in particular. She also realized she didn’t like winter very much so now she and her husband pursue the endless summer by splitting their time between Michigan and Arizona.

For more information, visit Dianne at difreeman.com, on Facebook, on Twitter, on Instagram and on her Amazon page.

All comments are welcomed.