Katharine Ashe Chats With Her Hero From How A Lady Weds A Rogue
Historical romance author Katharine Ashe continues her Falcon Club series with How A Lady Weds A Rogue. Wyn Yale is an agent for the top-secret Falcon Club, certainly doesn't seem like a hero. But when he rescues adventurous young lady Diantha Lucas he finds himself wrapped up in her quest to find her missing mother. We're always on the lookout for fantastic regency heroes and we're certainly taken by Wyn, so we asked Katharine if she could share details about some of Wyn's earlier adventures:
Thank you to my lovely hosts for inviting me to the blog today! I’m so happy to be here.
In fact I’m not alone. I’ve brought the hero of How a Lady Weds a Rogue with me, Mr. Wyn Yale. Wyn is one of five close friends that make up the Falcon Club, a secret agency that has a single mission: to find and return home lost persons of importance to England. I’ve been asked to share stories from a few of the adventures Wyn had earlier in his career working for the crown. First, please allow me to introduce him to you!
Me: Wyn, I’d like to make you acquainted with RT Book Reviews’ readers.
Wyn bows, offering a slight smile, his silvery-grey eyes sparkling.
Wyn: Enchanted, ladies.
Me: So let’s get right into it. Wyn, what was the most difficult Find-And-Retrieve mission you ever performed as a Falcon Club agent?
Wyn: For my first mission in 1811, I was sent to the East Indies to locate a Highlander that the government believed to be a spy for the French.
Me: Oh yes! Lord Duncan Eads. He is in How a Lady Weds a Rogue, of course, chasing you around with pistols and such.
Wyn: If you know the story, madam, why are you asking me to retell it?
Me: Of course I know that story. But these lovely people want to hear the back stories. You know, how you got to the place you were at right before How a Lady Weds a Rogue. So please do continue. (And I’ll make editorial comments whether you wish me to or not, because I am The Author.)
Wyn: (Settling back comfortably in his chair now, clad in all black as always, like his black hair, and looking mighty good.) It became clear quite swiftly that Eads was not a spy.
Me: He’s an earl! And over there you met another earl, didn’t you?
Wyn: Leam, the earl of Blackwood, another Scot who was sent to Calcutta to assist me in finding Eads.
Me: But you didn’t really need assisting. Leam just needed to get out of England right then.
Wyn: Leam should have stayed in England. In India he got himself shot.
Me: Duncan Eads shot him. But Duncan didn’t shoot you. You’re too fast for him. You’re too fast for everyone.
Me: But wait! I don’t want to spend all our time here talking about Scottish lords (though, admittedly, that would be nice too). Let’s get to the good stuff. Let’s get to the girls.
Wyn: The girls?
Me: You know. All the girls you rescued.
Wyn: (looking uncomfortable) Couldn’t I instead tell the tale of that unfortunate fellow who lost his memory long enough to—
Wyn: Miss Ashe?
Me: Give us a girl story. What about the duke’s daughter? That was a fun one.
Wyn: You refer, perhaps, to the young lady that escaped her chaperone during an evening at Vauxhall Gardens and eloped with a gardener.
Me: Oh, yes, that one! What a scandal that would have been if the Club’s director hadn’t called you in to find her and bring her home. How did you extract her from the amorous gardener?
Wyn: (meets my gaze quite directly) I turned her affections elsewhere.
Me: Where elsewhere?
Wyn: (doesn’t flicker an eyelash) Elsewhere.
Me: Oh. Oh. Ohh-kay. So let’s move on. Wasn’t there a Muscovite ballerina, the niece of some Russian archbishop, that you saved from terrible danger?
Wyn: During a brief trip to Paris in the company of her aunt, an English countess, the young lady in question had strayed from the countess’s house. Discovering the Tuileries Gardens, she found herself inspired to dance in the middle of the night there. Unfortunately her exceptional talent was noticed and she was kidnapped.
Me: Good heavens! By whom?
Wyn: A troop of French circus performers.
Me: I totally don’t believe you.
Wyn: Believe what you wish.
Me: Then how did you do it? How did you rescue her from the villainous circus performers without anyone discovering who she was and scandalizing the English countess, the Russian archbishop and all of Parisian society?
Wyn: For that job, I employed the language the French understand best.
Me: The language—? Oh. Ohhh.
Wyn: I pretended to be a traveling knife thrower and deeply infatuated with her, and she and I became—
Me: Don’t say it. I cannot hear you say it.
Wyn: I was about to say “proficient actors.”
Me: You pretended to be lovers and you stole her away from the circus after a dramatic clash of wills with the men who’d kidnapped her. Didn’t you?
Wyn: Something like that.
Me: Pretended. Right? I mean, she was an innocent girl. Right?
Wyn: She was eighteen at the time.
Me: You have no morals.
Wyn: For king and country, Miss Ashe. For king and country.
He’s smiling and I know he didn’t lay a hand on the ballerina. He’s far too noble-hearted for that. I think.
Me: But the ballerina did fall in love with you, didn’t she? All the girls did. That’s how you rescued them. They adored you and eventually did whatever you wished, which was to take them home to their fathers and aunts and guardians and safety.
He doesn’t reply, and I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking of the last girl he rescued. The one that was not a Falcon Club assignment. The one he should have taken home to her family immediately but instead helped on her outrageous quest because he simply couldn’t say no to her.
Me: Only one girl ever affected you, though. Only one girl made you fall in love with her.
Wyn: (smiling, this time without any teasing) Only one.
- Katharine Ashe