© 2008

When I set out to write about Christmas in the Regency, I had to unlearn a lot of our current Christmas traditions. Much of what we do now to celebrate the season did not become popular until Victorian times. No Christmas cards or Santa, of course. And Christmas trees were still quite a novelty in the early nineteenth century.

With no television or radio to entertain them, people passed the time eating and drinking holiday foods, and playing parlor games. As I was doing the research for this story, I came across a game that didn’t make it into this book. A player must answer every question asked of him with the word “sausage.” When he laughs, he loses his turn.

A week later, my sons returned from summer camp. They had been surviving without electricity for a week, and had learned to play “Sausage” to pass the time.

So although the showier aspects of the Christmas season were years away, people had already found ways to amuse themselves that are still able to tame bored teenagers in the twenty-first century. Very impressive!

Merry Christmas and Happy Reading.

Harry Pennyngton, Earl of Anneslea, passed his hat and gloves to the servant at White’s, squared his shoulders, and strode into the main room to face his enemy. Nicholas Tremaine was lounging in a chair by the fire, exuding confidence and unconcerned by his lesser birth. To see him was to believe he was master of his surroundings, whatever they might be. He reminded Harry of a panther dozing on a tree branch, ready to drop without warning into the lives of other creatures and wreak havoc on their nerves.

And he was a handsome panther at that. In comparison, Harry always felt that he was inferior in some way. Shorter, perhaps, although they were much of the same height and build. And rumpled. For, no matter how much time or money Harry spent on his attire, Tremaine would always be more fashionable. And he did it seemingly without effort.