Christmas in a Castle by Samantha Hastings -- Blog Tour Review + Excerpt + Giveaway

About the Book

Miss Mary Perkins is governess to the strong-willed Stringham sisters while waiting for her beloved Mr. Trevor Wallace, a curate, to receive a living so that they can afford to marry. When he loses the promised position, her young charges decide to give their governess a husband for Christmas. The Stringham sisters write a fake letter from the duke inviting Trevor to stay at the castle, lock the pair in the dungeon, accidentally poison a chaplain, and cause a great deal of mayhem with mistletoe. Despite the girls’ well-meaning mistakes, will Mary and Trevor finally have the wedding of their dreams?

“Only the Stringham girls would try to matchmake in a dungeon,” Mary said with a little snicker that was positively adorable. “And if you ignore the torture artifacts, it is a rather romantic location with firelight.”

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About the Author

Samantha Hastings met her husband in a turkey sandwich line. They live in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she spends most of her time reading, eating popcorn, having tea parties, and chasing her four kids. She has degrees from Brigham Young University, University of North Texas, and University of Reading (UK). She's the author of: The Last Word, The Invention of Sophie Carter, A Royal Christmas Quandary, The Girl with the Golden Eyes, Jane Austen Trivia, The Duchess Contract, Secret of the Sonnets, The Marquess and the Runaway Lady, and A Novel Disguise. She also writes cozy murder mysteries under Samantha Larsen. 

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Excerpt

​December 1814

“You promised not to open Miss Perkins’s letters anymore,” Frederica said, peering over
her little sister’s shoulder. “You gave your word as a Stringham.”
Helen stuck out her chin obstinately. She was blonde, pale, and willowy. Everything
Frederica was not. Frederica was tall, voluptuous, and quite tan since returning from Italy. “And
I did not break my word to our dear governess. Becca opened it; I am merely reading it. Besides,
there is nothing the least bit romantic in it. The curate’s cousin was given the two livings he was
promised, and he fears that they will not be able to marry any time soon.”
Frederica glanced at her youngest sister, Becca, who at least had the grace to appear
chagrined. Becca, at sixteen, had her same buxom figure and coloring, but her eyes were bright
blue. “I steamed it open this time. She will never know.”
Shaking her head, Frederica folded her arms across her chest. “Miss Perkins always
knows. That is what makes her a good governess.”
Helen snorted, raising her eyebrows. “She does not know that you have kissed every
groom from Hampford to London and at least one Italian count.”
Frederica pinched her sister’s arm. “Vicious lies! Only the handsome ones.”
“Oh, Poor Trevor.”
Goosebumps formed on Frederica’s arms, and it was not from the December chill. “Who
in heaven’s name is Trevor?”
Becca heaved a sigh. “Miss Perkins’s betrothed. His name is Mr. Trevor Wallace, and she
has not seen him since she went home to Cookham last Christmas. He laments the distance
between them in every letter.”

A year was a long time. Frederica had not seen Samuel, the lord her parents wished her to
marry, in five years. And she did not think her feelings had altered greatly. Nor his, for the silly
boy had joined the army so that he did not have to propose to her.
“But Poor Trevor does nothing about it,” Helen said, frowning.
“What can the man do?” Becca countered, tugging her shawl that had slipped off one of
her shoulders. “Church livings are hard to come by and so many clergymen hold more than one.
Who knows when there will be an opening again for him. Everyone, it seems, wishes to be a
rector.”
Frederica snorted. “No one in our family does.”
Becca stood up and took the letter back from Helen, before resuming her seat. “Well, we
are practically heathens. At least, I think that is what Reverend Turpin said Sunday last. It was
impossible to hear his sermon over Papa’s snoring.”
Helen clapped her hands, her eyes wide. “That is it! We can ask Papa to find Poor Trevor
a living. I am sure that there are many in his gift. He is a duke, after all.”
Considering this, Frederica racked her brain to think if there were any openings coming
up soon. “The problem is, for a living to become vacant, the incumbent must either die or retire.
And by the time Mr. Robertson retires, I daresay his son Jason will take over the rectory. It is
most likely the same as all the other livings in Papa’s gift. Rectors and vicars seem to bear many
sons.”
As if on cue, both Becca and Helen leaned forward and rested their chins on their hands.
Their foreheads wrinkled in unison and their lips downturned into frowns.

She sat down beside them on the sofa. “All of them except Reverend Turpin, who is at
least seventy, but I do not think that he will ever retire. He has been the chaplain to the Duke of
Hampford since our grandfather’s time.”
Becca huffed. “I wonder if his sermons have always been so dull.”
Helen nudged her with her elbow. “I am certain of it, and that is why we are going to get
rid of the reverend once and for all. Poor Trevor’s sermons must be better.”
“Or at least shorter,” Becca quipped.
Laughing, Frederica touched her face. “Are you suggesting that we murder an old man?”
Becca’s face turned red and she sputtered, “Of-of course not.”
Shrugging a bony shoulder, Helen said, “I am not sure that it would be considered
murder. In fact, everyone in the castle might believe it was a public service.”
Another chuckle escaped Frederica’s lips. Her little sister was incorrigible. “We are not
murdering anybody.”
“Fine, we will convince the old turnip to retire,” Helen said, putting her boots onto the
table in front of them. “Just think of it. This Christmas is the perfect time to make Miss Perkins’s
dreams come true. You have already been presented. I am eighteen and never wish to participate
in society. And Miss Perkins has made all the progress with Becca that she ever will.”
Poor Becca’s cheeks flushed pink again. Frederica’s youngest sister struggled with
reading, although she had a marvelous memory. Their governess had certainly done her best, but
Becca had not made much progress underneath her tutelage. If anything, Miss Perkins had
learned a great deal about mice and marsupials—her youngest sister’s particular area of scientific
studies.
“Who do you think you are, her fairy godmother?” she asked caustically.

Frederica’s scorn was entirely missed by her two sisters, for they squealed in delight and
got to their feet.
Becca jumped up and down. “Yes, let’s. I would love to be a fairy godmother!”
Helen acted scarcely less enthusiastic, clapping her hands and grinning. “I shall write
Poor Trevor a letter at once, asking him to stay a fortnight for the Christmas holidays.”
“Curates don’t take long holidays,” Frederica pointed out. “He would be missing two
Sundays. Who would give his sermons?”
Her closest sister in age glared back at her. “Curates do when they are invited by dukes
and sent the mail coach fare to pay their way. Everyone wants to spend Christmas in a castle.”
“Or we could always write that Miss Perkins has a wasting disease,” Becca suggested. “I
am certain that he could come then.”
Frederica’s lips curled as she tried to hold in her laugh. Poor Trevor and Miss Perkins had
no idea what was in store for them by these two adolescent matchmakers. “I read once in a novel
that a young woman died because her hands were cold.”
“We don’t want to alarm him,” Helen said, fisting one hand and hitting it against the
opposite palm. “But we must press upon him firmly that declining is not an option.”
Becca nodded her head eagerly. “That is a good idea, and Papa will sign anything we
write.”
Helen grinned in triumph. “Especially if you ask him. Now all we must do is come up
with a plan to get rid of Reverend Turpin.”
“We will give Miss Perkins a curate for Christmas,” Becca said, beaming.
Frederica shivered again.

Review

In the mood for a short and sweet Christmas story, this book is just right.  Mistletoe and mayhem, as well as three strong-willed sisters scheming to get their governess and together.  This is a humorous and sweet story that readers will thoroughly enjoy!

Genre: Victorian, holiday, romance, novelette
Publisher: Scribbling Pens
Publication date: November 27, 2023
Number of pages: 73:

Disclosure statement: A complimentary review copy of this book was provided from tour groups, publishers, publicists, authors, and others, including NetGalley, OR was borrowed from the library, including OverDrive, Or borrowed from Kindle Unlimited, OR borrowed from Deseret Bookshelf, OR pre-ordered/purchased for review, including Audible.  A review was not required and all views and opinions expressed are my own.​

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