Back to Top

Category: Regency

I’ll start the discussion by sharing what I think is risky in my Regency — my heroine.

I have always adored Georgette Heyer’s
FARO’S DAUGHTER, but every time I read it, a little part of me is disappointed that, of course, the hero is much better at cards than the heroine. She runs a gaming house, but he still knows more than she does. When they play piquet, he tells her she’s weak in her discards — and then he piques, repiques, and capots her. Argh! I love the hero, but sometimes I wanted to smack him across his self-satisfied face. Or have the heroine capot HIM for a change!

So when I wrote MY gambling Regency, I made my heroine, Atalanta, brilliant at cards. My hero, Stoke, is strong, smart, and stubborn as can be, but he’s not better at piquet than she. Oh, he THINKS he is–he assumes he is–and she helps along that assumption because, well, she’s a card-sharp. 🙂

I was hoping all along that I would not be forced to tone down Atalanta, to make her weaker so that Stoke seems stronger — and I am delighted to report that my wonderful editor never hinted that my heroine should be turned into a kinder, gentler version of herself. No, when MY LADY GAMESTER appears in November, Atalanta will be as fierce, as uncompromising, and as ambitious as she was when I first wrote her.

Will the readers like her? I guess I’ll find out in November! 🙂

Cara

Cara King —
MY LADY GAMESTER — Signet Regency, 11/05

What is a Risky Regency? Who writes
Risky Regencies? What are the challenges,
pitfalls, and benefits of writing Risky
Regencies?

That’s what this blog is all about! We have
a great bunch of Regency writers (including
Amanda McCabe, Elena Greene, Laurie Bishop,
Megan Frampton, Janet Mullany, and me,
Cara King) who will all discuss this subject,
plus our writing lives, our research,
and anything else pertinent to the life of
a Risky Regency Writer!

Have a comment? Please join in!

Cara
(Cara King — author of MY LADY GAMESTER,
debuting November 2005 from Signet Regency!)

Posted in Regency | Leave a reply
Hello! This is Laurie Bishop. Great cover, Cara!
I’ve been reading everyone else’s comments and trying to decide how I would qualify what makes a Regency risky. I find it isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. But since I have to come up with something 😉 , to me a risky Regency is one in which the heroine, and/or the hero, do something extraordinary for their sex/time/station—or must act in an unexpected way to address their dilemma. Also, in addition to this, they must do or be in this way without violating the attitudes of the time.Hence the trickiness.Let us say that I want my heroine to be courageous and able to take command to save the family estate. She might come to the traumatic conclusion that she must ruin herself by becoming the mistress of Snidely Whiplash; and she can acknowledge this by having all of the appropriate thoughts and feelings about what she feels forced to do. But…she will not use language that a gently reared young lady does not use, and she will otherwise behave with all the decorum within her power that she has been raised to use. And she will not know something that a gently reared young lady does not know.

Of course, if she is not a gently reared young lady, we have a different bucket of peas. She will have the perspective of a farmer’s daughter, a soldier’s daughter, or what have you. And that can be quite different. Even middle class daughters were different than the daughters of the highest peers. In PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, the Bennett daughters walked to town alone. Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s daughter would never been allowed to do such a thing.

In my first Regency, THE BEST LAID PLANS, the heroine was a very independent-thinking American heiress who was not raised in high English society. She was therefore allowed to be a little outrageous—and was a ball to write!

Laurie

WHEN HORSES FLY Oct. 2005
LORD RYBURN’S APPRENTICE Jan. 2006

Happy Labor Day, everyone!

Today the USA celebrates Labor Day, a national holiday that celebrates the American worker.

In the late 1800s several states celebrated Labor Day, but it was only after a number of workers were killed by U.S. military and U.S. marshals during a Pullman Strike, that congress made Labor Day a national holiday.

Worker unrest was not unusual during the Regency, of course. I’ll bet you’ve come across mention of the Luddites more than once when reading Regency-set historicals.

The Luddites were also protesting workers. They were English textile craftsman who protested by destroying the mechanized looms that were operated in factories by unskilled workers. Their name came from a young apprentice loom worker named Ludd or Ludham, who, when chastised by his superior, smashed his stocking frame with a hammer. Twenty-two years later, in 1811, Ned Ludd or Captain Ludd, or King Ludd, appeared in Nottingham, the leader of a protest. Soon he was reported to be on the move from one industrial center to the next, inspiring protesters, drilling secret armies at night, his face ghostly white, carrying a pike in his hand.

Problem was, Ned Ludd was a fiction. He was not a real person at all but a symbol. The officials believed in him; a militiaman reported actually seeing him.

Besides having a fictional leader, the Luddites poked fun by producing officious-sounding dispatches. They invoked the name of Robin Hood in their quest for social justice. They also marched as “General Ludd’s wives”wearing women’s clothing.

The Luddites, though, were serious about their protests. Unlike how their name is used today, their complaints were not that the mill owners were replacing hand looms with more more advanced technology. The Luddites wanted those advanced machines to be run by skilled workers earning a fair wage, not unskilled, low-paid workers producing shoddy goods.

With some exceptions–the killing of a mill owner, for one–the Luddites confined their protests to damaging looms. Far more violence was inflicted upon the Luddites than they caused. Several were hanged, however, and more were transported to Australia. The last protest was in 1816.

Today when you are watching your parade or eating your hot dog, remember the Luddites and drink a toast to Ned Ludd!

What’s your favorite Labor Day activity?

Posted in Regency, Research | Tagged | 5 Replies

September 14 was the 160th anniversary of the death of the Duke of Wellington, who died of a stroke that date in 1852. Naturally at such a time I’ve been thinking of “Dear Artie,” as Kristine Hughes (my rival) and I fondly call him.

Not long ago I came across a book in the public domain called The Letters Of The Duke Of Wellington To Miss J. Remarkably, for 17 years the duke engaged in a correspondence with a young woman who was bent upon saving his soul.

Miss J was the daughter of member of the gentry who was left in fairly comfortable means after the early deaths of her parents. She received the finest schooling along with other young ladies of the aristocracy and lived with an elderly companion afterward.

At an early age she became a religious zealot, devoting her life to God and turning away from worldly matters. She rejected a suitor because he did not meet her exacting spiritual standards. Shortly after she and a friend managed to convert a condemned criminal, Miss J felt embolden to take on a new charge. She took the bold step to write to the Duke of Wellington, presumably to offer her services to convert him to a life of righteousness. At that time the duke, after having been Prime Minister, was Peel’s Foreign Secretary and was to continue to be very active in political life for several more years. Nevertheless, he answered this young woman’s letter. After she delivered the gift of a bible to him, he called upon her.

It is hard to imagine why this busy, important man might trouble himself with any involvement with a much younger woman bent on saving his soul. He was three years a widower and 64 years of age at that time and perhaps was looking back on parts of his life with some contrition. Or perhaps he was flattered that a young, beautiful woman was enamored of him.

He did appear to become infatuated with Miss J for a time, professing loving her, which seemed to have scared her enough to forbid him any more in-person visits. Her diary, though, seemed to convey her belief that God was calling her to eventually marry the Duke of Wellington. The duke, however, remained worldly enough that he would not risk being held up to ridicule for marrying a woman young enough “to be his granddaughter,” as he put it to her.

Their correspondence continued, but not without trouble. A year later, Miss J becomes affronted because a letter from the duke arrived with a plain seal, which she took as a deliberate slight to her consequence. She threatens never to write him again. When he doesn’t write her back fast enough, she fires off another letter.

Here is the duke’s reply

“My dear Miss J., — I always understood that the important parts of a Letter were its Contents. I never much considered the Signature; provided I knew the handwriting; or the Seal provided it effectually closed the letter…”

He goes on to explain that he often doesn’t personally seal his letters, that the task is often performed by s secretary, and because he writes many letters the seal becomes too hot to use and another seal is employed. He does promise not to repeat the slight should she wish him to continue writing her.

Shortly after, Miss J perceives herself called by God to continue writing to the duke and he accepts her letters and writes in return. The letters persist for years, weathering other times when Miss J again feels slighted.

In 1850, Miss J suffers from poor health and financial reverses. At the urging of her sister who had come from America to tend to her, she asks the duke for financial assistance. He immediately writes back that she is but to tell him the amount she needs and the bank to which it should be sent and he will happily assist her.

But Miss J does not deal in such worldly matters. She leaves it to the duke to figure out how much to send and how to get it to her. There are letters back and forth regarding this matter, until he finally devises a plan to send her the money. All she has to do is sign for the receipt of the package.

Miss J finds this too worldly for her and refuses to sign anything. At this point it appears the duke has had it with her. He writes several formal, terse letters to that effect and states that she should not trouble herself to write him again.

She persists in writing him, letters he only answers from time to time to send a terse message that she should not write him again.

She had a letter ready to post to him when her physician visited and told her of the Duke’s death. She feared he did not make it into the Kingdom of God.

Miss J’s finances forced to go to America to live with her sister, but her sister apparently could not abide what then had become Miss J’s even more religious extremes. Miss J lived alone in New York until her death in 1862.

I found this a fascinating part of “Dear Artie’s” life and I loved reading his letters when he employed a sarcastic tone. Poor Miss J! Her religious feelings seem to have begun in a great desire to live a good life, but ended in her being estranged from two people who were prepared to love her–her sister and The Duke of Wellington.

Come to my Diane Gaston Blog this Thursday Sept 20 when my guest will be my friend, Darlene Gardner, talking about her latest Superromance, The Truth About Tara. Darlene will be giving away a free copy of Twice the Chance, her Holt Medallion award of merit winner.