Pride and Prejudice and Nuance, a Guest Post from Leila Eye

Posted on December 4, 2020 by Regina Jeffers
Photo courtesy of https://www.bl.uk/collection-items/jane-austens-writing-desk

Whenever you start to become a fan of something, that’s when you tend to pay attention to the nuances and all of the details involved. You start placing more importance on what makes something different rather than just what you like about it. Stories about King Arthur aren’t just interesting because they involve swords and wizards; they are interesting because of the way that swords like Excalibur are used and the way that Merlin is presented as a mentor figure rather than just some deus ex machina of a wizard.

As a writer of Pride and Prejudice adaptations, I want to achieve a little of the flavor of Jane Austen, even if I know I will never have her comedic gift or her ability for social commentary. As such, I try to pay attention to more than just the historical aspects of whatever story I am writing. Avoiding contractions and using more formal language isn’t enough for me; I try to go a little further than that.

While trying to analyze the text as a text (rather than as a wonderful work of literature), I have noticed a few things. Here they are in no particular order:

Austen never uses “matter” as a verb. The replacement word used is “signify,” as is seen here:

“[Lydia] was sure they should be married some time or other, and it did not much signify when.”

When it comes to the word “admit,” it is generally used in the sense of letting something or someone in; “own” tends to be used as the replacement word in other instances, such as in this sentence spoken by Elizabeth:

Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies, do divert me, I own, and I laugh at them whenever I can.

Another observation I have made is that Austen never uses “as though” in Pride and Prejudice; she uses “as if” instead.

When describing speech, Austen typically uses a reverse construction where the verb comes before the noun:

“What can be the meaning of that emphatic exclamation?” cried he.

There are a few occasions where she uses other constructions, such as “he replied” or “she added,” but by and large, she uses the reverse construction.

For this post, I decided to quickly look at speech descriptors in the first 20 chapters in Pride and Prejudice.

I found that the most often used speech descriptors are “said” and “cried” and “replied.” A search of the full text for the word “cried” reveals more than 90 instances, “said” has more than 400, and “replied” has more than 100. In contrast, the word “exclaimed,” which modern audiences are more likely to use, only has 8 instances.

Some other speech descriptors I saw in the first 20 chapters were:

  • Returned
  • Continued
  • Added
  • Observed
  • Began
  • Repeated
  • Answered

Less frequently, there were other constructions, such as:

  • The subject elevated him to more than usual solemnity of manner, and with a most important aspect he protested that “he had never in his life witnessed such behaviour in a person of rank—such affability and condescension, as he had himself experienced from Lady Catherine.[“]
  • Lydia gaped as he opened the volume, and before he had, with very monotonous solemnity, read three pages, she interrupted him with:”Do you know, mamma, that my uncle Phillips talks of turning away Richard; and if he does, Colonel Forster will hire him.[“]
  • After a pause of some minutes, she addressed him a second time with:—”It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy.[“]

We don’t see “yelled” or “shouted” at all, the words that modern writers might be more likely to use.

Furthermore, the speech descriptors are typically in the middle of a spoken sentence in Pride and Prejudice:

“My dear Mr. Bennet,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?”

Or they come after the end of a spoken sentence:

“I am sick of Mr. Bingley,” cried his wife.

When that is not the case, Austen often sets off the speech with a colon and a new paragraph:

After amusing himself some time with their curiosity, he thus explained:

“About a month ago I received this letter; and about a fortnight ago I answered it, for I thought it a case of some delicacy, and requiring early attention. It is from my cousin, Mr. Collins, who, when I am dead, may turn you all out of this house as soon as he pleases.”

Those are some items of language I’ve noted. But the more I study the text, the more other items catch my attention.

For instance, if you search out Lydia’s name, you will find that she often does not speak directly at all; rather, there will frequently be a description of her speech instead of the direct language. When she does speak, I would say at least half the time there is an exclamation mark somewhere in what she says, like in the below:

She was met in the vestibule by Lydia, who, flying to her, cried in a half whisper, “I am glad you are come, for there is such fun here! What do you think has happened this morning? Mr. Collins has made an offer to Lizzy, and she will not have him.”

Such extremity of emotions helps characterize Lydia as a foolish girl who cares more for fun than propriety, which makes her decision to run off with Wickham make more sense.

In an attempt to further get a feel for the general sense of relationships, I have taken an in-depth look at the phrase “my dear.” That is a phrase that occurs 131 times in Pride and Prejudice, and it often occurs between Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. I feel their relationship deserves a little more attention than we are typically inclined to give. It is easy to say that they have scarcely any relationship at all considering Mr. Bennet’s teasing of his wife, but seeing as they have five daughters together and call each other “my dear” so frequently, I think their relationship is a little deeper than most might think. Certainly, there is a slight distance seen between them when they call each other “Mr. Bennet” and “Mrs. Bennet” as opposed to using their first names, but I believe that to be more of a reflection of their times than anything.

The phrase “my dear” (which is often placed in front of someone’s name) is usually used to indicate affection in Pride and Prejudice. Note that nobody uses that phrase with Mary, who is scarcely appreciated by anyone in the book. The phrase is used affectionately by:

  • Mrs. Bennet to refer to her husband; to her daughters, except for Mary (note that Mr. Bennet calls her “child” when trying to get her to stop playing the pianoforte); to her housekeeper (“My dear Hill” is used when Mrs. Bennet is excited that Lydia is getting married); and to Mr. Gardiner (“my dear brother”)
  • Mr. Bennet to refer to Elizabeth (and none of his other daughters) and his wife
  • Sir William to refer to Elizabeth (“My dear Miss Eliza”) and to refer to Mr. Darcy (“my dear sir”)
  • Jane to refer to Elizabeth, her mother (“my dear mother”), her father (“my dear father”), and the Gardiners (“my dear uncle and aunt”)
  • Elizabeth to refer to Jane and Charlotte as well as Mrs. Gardiner (“my dear aunt”) and her father (“my dear father”)
  • Mary to refer to Lydia (note: Mary has little dialogue)
  • Lydia to refer to Wickham and to Harriet in a letter (note: Lydia does not have a lot of dialogue)
  • Charlotte to refer to Elizabeth
  • Caroline and Charles Bingley to refer to each other (arguably, there could be some condescension in Caroline’s use of “My dear Charles”)
  • Mr. Collins to refer to Elizabeth (“my dear cousin,” for instance), Mrs. Bennet (“my dear madam”), Mr. Bennet (“my dear sir”), and Charlotte
  • Maria Lucas to refer to Elizabeth
  • Mrs. Gardiner to refer to Elizabeth and Jane
  • Mr. Gardiner to refer to Mr. Bennet (“my dear brother”) in a letter

There are also instances that seem less affectionate:

  • When trying to get Charlotte’s assistance, Mrs. Bennet uses “my dear Miss Lucas” (note the distance of her using “Miss Lucas” instead of “Charlotte”).
  • Caroline Bingley uses “my dear friend,” “my dearest friend,” and “my dearest Jane,” but one of the instances is inviting her to dine when her brother is not at home, and the other is in a letter expressing hopes for Bingley to have a union with Georgiana. These seem to be less than sincere, but the fact that Caroline even ventures to invite Jane to come to Netherfield seems to speak volumes about Caroline’s opinion of Jane. She does not think her well off enough to be united with Charles, but she cannot seem to deny that Jane’s character is sound.
  • After marrying Lydia, Wickham says “my dear sister” to Elizabeth more than once. I can only imagine how she must have wished to punch him in the jaw – though of course, Austen would never be so coarse as to write that in there!

I think the use of “my dear” serves as a good illustrator of the relationships among the different characters. For instance, scarcely anyone cares for Mary and Lydia, and Mr. Bennet’s primary concerns are his wife and Elizabeth.

Another minute detail that interests me is the occurrence of “Mr. Darcy” versus “Darcy.” The phrase “Mr. Darcy” occurs approximately 270 times. The name “Darcy” by itself (excluding things such as “Miss Darcy”) occurs approximately 100 times. While “Darcy” is used alone when Bingley refers to him, it is also to be found elsewhere in the text in places that are not speech. I have not determined a particular pattern, except that I have noted that when it is used alone, there is often a reference nearby of “Mr. Darcy” as well. I think this lack of consistency may not have been particularly intended or unintended; I think it probably simply worked out that way. But I do think that the fact that “Mr. Darcy” occurs so many times more is part of why many people prefer to use that as his name when initially talking about him – rather than using “Fitzwilliam Darcy” or simply “Darcy.”

These are just some of the minutiae that have caught my eye. What are some details about the text that you have noticed and found interesting? Is there anything about the characters or the language that you like to ponder? Do you have any opinions about a relationship between certain characters that you think might sometimes be misunderstood?

Posted in Austen Authors, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Guest Post, language choices, Pride and Prejudice, publishing, Regency era, word choices, word origins, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Pride and Prejudice and Nuance, a Guest Post from Leila Eye

The Ins and Outs of a Marriage of Convenience During the Regency Era

Posted on December 2, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

I am more than certain many of you have read stories about a “marriage of convenience” in Regency romances, but what does that mean exactly? 

First, such a marriage did not mean “NO” sex forever, not simply no sex for a brief period of time. Remember a marriage without sex is referred to as “mariage blanc.” Mariage blanc “(from the French, literally “white marriage”) is a marriage that is without consummation. The expression may derive from the absence of hymenal blood on the couple’s (white) wedding-night bedsheets; however, the French word blanc also means blank in the sense of empty, e.g. cartouche à blanc = a blank cartridge, one lacking a bullet. Another example is a lavender marriage, one undertaken to disguise the homosexuality of one or both partners. A sexless marriage, on the other hand, may have begun with the standard expectations. he marriages of Thomas Caryle, John Ruskin, Freya Stark, and Max Beerbohm are alleged to have not been consummated through impotence.  The brief marriage of Tchaikovsky might be described as a ‘lavender marriage’.”

A marriage of convenience simply means it is not a love match. It is usually entered into in order to aid or rescue one of the spouses from persecution or harm; or for economic, social or visa advantage. Such plot lines are favorites among Regency romance writers, as love after marriage, or love that is only one-sided at the time of marriage, makes for lots of romantic development and high drama.

Whether or not she chose to sleep with a man or not would have no baring on the contract. Such an arrangement was not likely discussed openly, for no cleric would perform such a ceremony.

From a logical perspective, a woman would usually have very little power in this issue.  If she wanted to avoid a marriage badly enough, she could get herself ruined, but then her family would likely turn her out—a difficult place to place oneself in.  And even if such was known of her, it might not save the woman if the groom did not care whether she was a virgin or not. Such arrangements were more something a man would do—either because he could not or would not participate in the act. As being homosexual was a criminal offence in many cultures, it is unlikely he would ever put anything about not consummating the marriage in writing. It would be an agreement between the two, or he would just not cooperate. If she were to complain, he could beat her, lock her up, banish her, make her life miserable, or even have her killed, all without legal ramifications.  He would just blame her for being barren and send her away. Some family and friends might know the truth, but who was going to say much, especially if the man was powerful?  Some women might be fine with it, but a marriage in the church and a marriage registered with government can have two different purposes.

A marriage contract that spelt out that there would be no sex was unlikely to be enforceable. These types of arrangements would usually be verbal and really involve cases where each person was allowed to go their own way. One must remember, many marriages were arranged ones, a contract between families. Such marriages were “convenient” for the families involved. 

It more modern stories, we might see what we commonly call a sham marriage, but this would not fit for the Regency era, because in the Regency, it took an act of Parliament for a divorce. “A sham marriage or fake marriage is a marriage of convenience entered into without intending to create a real marital relationship. This is usually for the purpose of gaining an advantage from the marriage. Definitions of sham marriage vary by jurisdiction, but are often related to immigration. The essential point in the varying definitions is whether the couple intend to live in a real marital relationship, to establish a life together. A typical definition by the UK Home Office in 2015:

“‘A sham marriage or civil partnership is one where the relationship is not genuine but one party hopes to gain an immigration advantage from it. There is no subsisting relationship, dependency, or intent to live as husband and wife or civil partners.’

“While referred to as a ‘sham’ or ‘fake’ because of its motivation, the union itself is legally valid if it conforms to the formal legal requirements for marriage in the jurisdiction. Arranging or entering into such a marriage to deceive public officials is in itself a violation of the law of some countries, for example the U. S. After a period, couples often divorce  if there is no purpose in remaining married.”

We also have what is known as a Josephite marriage, but the closest we see to this situation in the Regency refers to those who taught at the university or the students themselves. The History of Cambridge or The History of Oxford all report that celibacy was enforced for students. However, I have discovered that if a fellow married, he had one year grace period to finish studies, etc., and leave. I think that was mentioned in the biography of John Scott, the 1st Earl of Eldon. The celibacy rule remained until 1882.

“Josephite marriage, also known as spiritual marriage, chaste marriage, and continent marriage, is a religiously motivated practice in which a man and a woman live intimately without engaging in sexual activity.  A feature of Catholic spiritual marriage, or Josephite marriage, is that the agreement to abstain from sex should be a free mutual decision, rather than resulting from impotence or the views of one party. In senses beyond spiritual marriage, chastity is a key concept of Church doctrine that demands celibacy of priests, monks, nuns and certain other officials in the Church. The doctrine established a ‘spiritual marriage’ of church officials to their church; in order to better serve God, one had to disavow the demands and temptations of traditional marriage.”

Occasionally, we come across a book where the heroine is a widow who had lived in a platonic marriage with her husband because he was not interested in sex with women. She understands the restrictions before they marry, but she does so because he paid to pull her family out of a financial hole.

Arms of Wallop, Earls of Portsmouth. The supporters, Two chamois or wild goats sable, are here shown off duty; the crest is: A mermaid holding in the dexter hand a mirror in the other a comb all proper

In real life, we have examples of a marriage of convenience, such as that of John Wallop, 3rd Earl of Portsmouth. “The Earl was known from an early age to have an unsound mind, and his estate was placed under the control of four trustees. While Portsmouth had periods in which he appeared sane, he often engaged in a variety of bizarre and sadistic behavior. He whipped his servants, beat and bled his horses, and slaughtered cattle, shouting, with an axe. The Earl showed a remarkable mania for funerals, which he referred to as ‘black jobs.’ He attended them frequently, insisted on tolling the bells at Hurstbourne for funerals there, and sometimes flogged the ringers with the bell rope afterwards.

“On 19 November 1799, Portsmouth married Hon. Grace Norton, the sister of one of his trustees, William Norton, 2nd Baron Grantley. The marriage was encouraged by Portsmouth’s younger brother, Hon. Newton Fellowes, as Grace was 47 years old at the marriage (Portsmouth was 31) and unlikely to produce an heir to displace Newton. However, Grace also played an important role in moderating Portsmouth’s behavior and keeping his eccentricities out of the public eye. When, in 1808, she found herself no longer able to control the Earl, her relative, Dr. John Combe, was added to the household, to help suppress Portsmouth’s manias.]

“One of the trustees, Portsmouth’s solicitor John Hanson, saw an opportunity at Grace’s death in 1813. Without informing the other trustees or Portsmouth’s brother Newton, he quickly arranged a marriage between Portsmouth and his daughter, Mary Anne. They were married on 7 March 1814; Lord Byron, another one of Hanson’s clients, gave the bride away. When Newton attempted to have Portsmouth declared insane that autumn, Byron’s affidavit as to the circumstances of the marriage was instrumental in getting the charge dismissed.[2] However, the new Countess was by no means equal to the task of controlling Portsmouth; his behavior grew more erratic, while Mary Anne carried on an adulterous affair with William Alder, who fathered three children on her. Eventually, the pair of lovers grew so bold as to have intercourse in the same bed with the Earl (who was almost certainly impotent).

“A new commission de lunatico inquirendo took place in 1823, at the instigation of Portsmouth’s nephew Henry Wallop Fellowes, and it was revealed that the Earl had been badly mistreated by his new wife and her lover, who had spat on him and beaten him. He was adjudged to have been insane since 1809. In 1828, his second marriage was annulled, and Mary Anne’s children were declared bastards. A judgment for the £40,000 cost of the trial was issued against her, and she fled abroad. Portsmouth died in 1853; his brother Newton succeeded him for less than half a year before his own death.”

Some readers assume that the act of consummation is what made a marriage legal—made it a union, as far as the church was concerned. But until the mid 19th Century, this was not a true statement in England, for consummation was not required. Non consummation was not grounds for an annulment, though inability to consummate was. The church held the belief that men and women  were more likely than not to have sex if living in close proximity, so it was assumed that non consummation was something that time could cure. The inability to consummate was different. If a man or woman proved that no amount of time would provide them the ability to consummate the marriage it could be annulled.

In a few cases  when a man had a marriage annulled on such grounds and then went on to marry another and father children, some of the church judges and bishops wanted to  annul the annulment and invalidate the second marriage. Wiser heads prevailed, and  it was decided that God works in mysterious ways.  It helped that the number of such marriages was very small.

The wife’s adultery was just about the only grounds a husband could claim in order to be  rid of his wife. Wives were laughed out of court when they claimed he abused them and brought in mistresses to humiliate them. The wives were told to have Christian forbearance and that there was still a chance for them to have a marriage. The church might grant a legal separation in some of the worse cases. Generally, the wife was supposed to suffer in silence. The two women who were able to obtain a parliamentary divorce in the early years of the 19th century did so because there was no way for them to go back to live with their husbands. In each case the husband took the wife’s sister as his mistress, which made him guilty of incest. It was an odd system that considered sleeping with your wife’s sister a greater crime than beating her.

While the church required that both bride and groom come voluntarily to be married there were many cases of clergymen looking the other way or of girls being too frightened or intimidated to voice a protest.

A rare extant copy of a common marriage license from 1806. Licenses were a quicker, more private alternative to reading of banns, but they cost a bit of coin. This one was 10 shillings. BTW, this is not a SPECIAL license, which would have been a lot more expensive and harder to obtain. –Elisa Braden http://www.elisabraden.com

Marriage contracts were not legally enforceable. The Hardwicke Marriage Act of 1753– in force as of 25 March 1754– says that such contracts were no loner enforceable. One thing the church insisted on was that each person standing before the cleric to be married be there of his or her own free will. Of course, they interpreted free will somewhat differently at times. 

However, while there was no legal way to enforce the contract, which a person of age never signed nor agreed to, family and social pressure often did what the law would not. That is why so  often we hear about a person being left money if he/she married so and so. If he did not marry the designated person the money went elsewhere. The man usually was the one guilt tripped into marrying.

The court might say that if he knew about the contract since he was 16 and did nothing to spurn it, he had agreed to it. Usually a breach of that contract would only be a breach of promise, and he could say he never made the promise. Promises made by parents and guardians for a minor could be revoked when the minor became an adult if he knew about it and acted on it. If he just let it go, he might be said to have agreed to it. The courts of the era gave odd decisions sometimes.

Posted in British history, Church of England, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Living in the Regency, marriage, marriage customs, Regency era, Regency romance | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Celebrating the Release of “I Shot the Sheriff: A Tragic Characters in Classic Lit Series Novel” with a Who Is Who in the Tale

Posted on November 30, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

I Shot the Sheriff: Tragic Characters in Classic Literature Series Novel 

How does one reform the infamous Sheriff of Nottingham? Easy. With Patience.

William de Wendenal, the notorious Sheriff of Nottingham, has come to London, finally having wormed his way back into the good graces of the Royal family. Yet, not all of Society is prepared to forgive his former “supposed” transgressions, especially the Earl of Sherwood. 

However, when de Wendenal is wounded in an attempt to protect Prince George from an assassin, he becomes caught up in a plot involving stolen artwork, kidnapping, murder, and seduction that brings him to Cheshire where he must willingly face a gun pointed directly at his chest and held by the one woman who stirs his soul, Miss Patience Busnick, the daughter of a man de Wendenal once escorted to prison. 

I Shot the Sheriff is based on the classic tales of Robin Hood, but it is given a twist and brought into the early 19th Century’s Regency era. Can even de Wendenal achieve a Happily Ever After? If anyone can have the reader cheering for the Sheriff of Nottingham’s happiness, it is award-winning author Regina Jeffers. 

The Foundation Behind The Tragic Characters in Classic Lit Series: 

With complete artistic license and an abundance of hubris, a dozen Regency romance authors are retelling some of the great stories of literature, setting them in Georgian England and giving these tragic heroes and heroines a happily-ever-after. 

In this series where the reader will encounter some of their “favorite,” or should I say, “least favorite” characters found in classic literature. The parameters of the project were quite simple. (1) The story must be a full-length novel of, at least, 50,000 words. (2) Instead of the original setting for the tale, all the stories in this series take place between the late Georgian period and early Victorian, meaning late 1700s into about 1840. (3) Each novel is based on a different tragic character from a public domain novel, story, or poem. 

The idea is to provide the tragic character a “happily ever after.” It does not matter if he/she was the protagonist or the antagonist in the original tale, in these new renderings he/she will be the hero/heroine. 

In the series, you could meet fallen heroes who have succumbed to vice, greed, etc. He/She could originally have been detested for what values he accepted, but, in these new tales, he redeems himself: His fate changes. He will find the fortitude to change his stars, learn to accept what cannot be changed and move beyond the impossible to discover “Love After All.” 

Characters Found in “I Shot the Sheriff: Love After All” 

Original Character >>> The Character in My Tale…

The Sheriff of Nottingham >>> William de Wendenal 

I grew up reading tales of Robin Hood and his nemesis, the Sheriff of Nottingham. Therefore, the concept of providing the Sheriff a “happily ever after” was a task I was not certain I could manage; however, I do adore a challenge. As readers, we are not certain if the Sheriff’s character in the Robin Hood tales is based on one particular person or whether he is a composite of several men who held the post of the Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, and the Royal Forests. 

I chose to call my “Sheriff” William de Wendenal, who was a real-life person, a Norman baron living in the 12th Century. De Wendenal was one of the officials charged with overseeing England when Richard I was absent from his homeland, while participating in the Third Crusade. Although we have no record of the land de Wendenal owned, experts assume he was related to a noble family. Some scholars believe he held a joint title with William de Ferrers, 4th Earl of Derby. 

A legal document dating to the Middle Ages names de Wendenal as the High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, and parts of Yorkshire, making him a powerful political force during those years. The document indicates de Wendenal assumed his position in 1190, taking over the duties previously performed by Baron Roger de Lizoures, who, in addition to his responsibilities to the Sheriff position, also served as the Constable of Chester and Lord of Pontefract and Clitheroe, and, therefore, likely lived for a time at Ludlow Castle. 

Robin Hood >>> Robert de Lacy, 6th Earl of Sherwood 

The first reference to Robin Hood can be found in the poem “Piers Plowman” in about 1370, but the tales, as we think of them today, date to the latter part of the 15th Century. From the 16th Century forward, the different tales present Robin Hood with a title, making him the Earl of Huntingdon, and my first instinct was to name him as such in my tale. 

However, in actual history, not fiction, throughout the reign of Richard I, David of Scotland, an heir to the Scottish throne until 1198, was the 8th Earl of Huntingdon. The title of Earl of Huntingdon has been created several times in the Peerage of England. In fact, there is a current Earl of Huntingdon: William Edward Robin Hood Hastings-Bass, 17th Earl of Huntingdon. Therefore, not wishing to make references to the Huntingdon earldom, in my tale, I made the “Robin Hood” character Robert de Lacy, 6th Earl of Sherwood. I chose “de Lacy” because the de Lacy family, in real life, were the Lords of Pontefract, Bowland and Clitheroe, which are mentioned above. 

Maid Marian >>> Miss Marian Fitzwater (or Lady Sherwood)

The “Maid Marian” character does not appear in the Robin Hood tales until the 16th Century. She was likely a character associated with the May Day celebrations, probably derived from the French legend of a shepherdess named Marian and her shepherd lover Robin, recorded as Le Jeu de Robin et Marion. The shepherd of the original tale, however, was not an outlaw. The names simply appears to have stuck when the stories were constructed in the oral tradition. 

Robin Hood did have a shepherdess love interest in one of his tales, “Robin Hood’s Birth, Breeding, Valor, and Marriage,” whose name was “Clorinda.” Ironically, in the tale, “Marian” was one of Clorinda’s “aliases.” 

As one of my college degrees has theatre as a minor, I am basing my “Maid Marian” character and even part of the action of the story on the Robert Davenport play, King John and Matilda. The play dates to c. 1628 and was originally performed by Queen Henrietta’s Men at the Cockpit Theatre. In the play, Maid Marian, who after the first 780 lines becomes “Matilda,” is the daughter of Lord Fitzwater, one of the rebellious barons who forced King John to sign the Magna Carta. For reasons I shall explain a little later in this list of characters, the Maid Marian character in my tale, that is, before she became the Countess of Sherwood, is Miss Marian Fitzwater, the daughter of a baronet.

Will Scarlet (or Scarlett) >>> Gamwell Scathlocke 

The character of “Will Scarlet” was part of the Robin Hood tales from the beginning. I chose to use a later ballad, “Robin Hood and the Newly Revived,” which ascribes the name of “Gamwell” to the Will Scarlet character. In this late Robin Hood story, Gamwell has fled his family estate, at age fifteen, after killing his father’s land steward during an argument. 

The Will Scarlet character is also known by several variations of his last name, including Scarlock, Scadlock, Shacklock, etc. I chose “Scathlocke” for my version of the tale. 

I attributed these characteristics to Gamwell Scathlocke: hot-tempered, spirited, and a skilled swordsman—able to use two swords equally well at the same time. 

Alan-a-Dale >>> Sir Allan Clare  

Alan-a-Dale did not appear in the Robin Hood tales until the 17th Century. I chose to use the Pierce Egan the Younger’s story, entitled “Robin Hood and Little John” for this character. In Egan’s story, Alan is presented the name Sir Allan Clare, and he is the brother of Maid Marian. The use of “Sir” before Allan’s name during the Georgian era would have indicated the man was either a baronet or had been presented a knighthood for service to the Crown. I have made Sir Allan a baronet and half brother to Marian. In the Egan tale, Allan’s sweetheart is Lady Christabel, the daughter of the Sheriff of Nottingham, who means to marry the girl off to an elderly knight. As you read, you will see how I twisted that bit into my tale. 

The Downfall of Robert Earl of Huntingdon 

The Death of Robert Earl of Huntingdon 

These two plays were published in the early 1600s and were the first to identify Robin Hood as the Earl of Huntingdon. They are credited to Anthony Munday and were performed by the Admiral’s Men during the Elizabethan era. 

King John and Matilda 

This is a play written by Robert Davenport during the Caroline era, being published around 1655. It depended upon the plays of Anthony Munday for its action. Many of the scenes in I Shot the Sheriff are based on the scenes in this play. 

Here is the early schedule of releases for this series:

The Monster Within, the Monster Without by Lindsay Downs – November 7, 2020 (Frankenstein)

I Shot the Sheriff by Regina Jeffers – November 30, 2020 (Robin Hood and the Sheriff of Nottingham)

The Colonel’s Spinster by Audrey Harrison – December 8, 2020 (Pride and Prejudice)

Fated Hearts by Alina K. Field – December 29, 2020 (Macbeth)

The Redemption of Heathcliff by Alanna Lucas – January 1, 2021 (Wuthering Heights)

The Company She Keeps by Nancy Lawrence – January 11, 2021 (Madame Bovary)

Captain Stanwick’s Bride by Regina Jeffers – February 19, 2021 (The Courtship of Miles Standish)

Glorious Obsession by Louisa Cornell – February 26, 2021 (Orpheus and Eurydice)

Posted in book release, books, British history, Georgian England, Georgian Era, historical fiction, history, Living in the Regency, publishing, reading habits, real life tales, Realm series, Regency romance, research, romance, suspense, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Introducing the Tragic Characters in Classic Literature Series + the Release of “I Shot the Sheriff” + a Giveaway

Posted on November 23, 2020 by Regina Jeffers
Public Domain ~ Rhead, Louis. “Bold Robin Hood and His Outlaw Band: Their Famous Exploits in Sherwood Forest”. New York: Blue Ribbon Books, 1912, page 129

More than a year ago, a group of us joined together to create a new series of Regency-based stories. The premise behind the project was to take a “tragic figure” from classic literature and present him or her a happy ending. We would be moving the story, no matter the original setting, into the late Georgian to early Victorian era, roughly 1790 to 1840. The chosen characters are found in public domain stories, and the series is entitled “Love After All.” Releases will be staggered and published by each individual author. The idea is to present the “tragic character” a happy ending.

Earlier in November (November 7), Lindsay Downs released The Monster Within,The Monster Without, which is based on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

November 30, 2020, will see my release of I Shot the Sheriff, with a tale of the Sheriff of Nottingham.

December 8, 2020, will bring Audrey Harrison’s The Colonel’s Spinster, featuring Colonel Fitzwilliam from Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

December 29, 2020, brings Alina K. Field and her tale of Lancelot and Guinevere, entitled, Fated Hearts.

January 1, 2021, will bring us Alanna Lucas’s tale of Catherine and Heathcliffe from Wuthering Heights from Emily Brontë.

January 11, 2021, has the retelling of Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert tale from the pen of Nancy Lawrence. It will be entitled The Company She Keeps.

I will be back again on February 19, 2021, with the tale of Miles Standish from Longfellow’s “The Courtship of Miles Standish.” It will be entitled Captain Stanwick’s Bride.

Louisa Cornell will brings us the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice in Glorious Obsession, which will arrive on February 26, 2021.

NOTE: Additional stories will be added as they are arranged.

As most of you realize the Sheriff of Nottingham is the main antagonist in the Robin Hood stories—stories upon which I grew up reading on a regular basis. In fact, I still own a copy of 25 collected tales of Robin Hood, which my grandfather had received from his father when he was but 11 years of age. It has a 1912 copyright date, making it over 100 years old. The Sheriff is generally depicted as an unjust tyrant who mistreats the local people of Nottinghamshire, subjecting them to unaffordable taxes. Robin Hood fights against him, stealing from the rich, and the Sheriff, in order to give to the poor; a characteristic for which Robin Hood is best known. I grew up despising the Sheriff and adoring Robin Hood, so taking on this challenge was initially a bit daunting. Then I remembered how as a tongue-in-cheek moment, I added the Sheriff in book 6 of my Realm series, A Touch of Love, to see if anyone caught it. Ironically, if anyone did, he/she did not comment on my moment of brilliance some five years before this project fell into my lap. Little did I realize when I wrote A Touch of Love that it would serve as the basis for this new novel.

In I Shot the Sheriff, the reader will encounter several characters from the Realm series, most particularly, Mr. Aristotle Pennington, Aidan Kimbolt, Lord Lexford, and Mr. Henry Hill. This new story actually starts with a scene from A Touch of Love. As I said previously, I was simply wondering if any of the loyal readers of this Regency series would note I had used William de Wendenal, the suspected name of the Sheriff of Nottingham of the Robin Hood tales, in this new story? Now, I can do the reverse. Will readers of I Shot the Sheriff recognize the characters from my Realm series? 

In the Realm series, Sir Carter Lowery, an agent for the Home Office, is hunting for a group of men involved in an art theft ring. In chapter eleven, we find the following mention of de Wendenal: 

Carter met with the local sheriff regarding the attack. With McLauren’s assistance, he convinced Lord de Wendenal to leave the stranger in Carter’s custody overnight, but the effort proved fruitless. His assailant refused to provide his name or the reasons for the attack. What troubled Carter the most was he still held no idea whether he or Mrs. Warren was the shooter’s target.

Later, in Chapter Twenty-Four, when several of those involved in the theft ring have been caught, we find: 

Pennington agreed and placed the finishing touches to their plans.

“If none of you object, I believe it might be best to have Lord de Wendenal involved in transporting our prisoners.” 

“Why do we require the Sheriff of Nottingham?” Worthing asked. “Is there not someone closer?”

“First, de Wendenal’s auspices also covers Derbyshire. Moreover, my reports say some eight years prior, his lordship had several dealings with Ransing. At the time, I had no reason to think Ransing involved in stolen art, but I did think him connected to a smuggling ring in Kent. De Wendenal’s involvement in the case will provide the man the opportunity to turn over any stolen goods he might have acquired, setting an example for other members of the aristocracy,” Pennington explained. 

“Do you think de Wendenal honest enough to respond as you wish?” Lexford inquired with a lift of his eyebrows in suspicion. 

“I think Lord de Wendenal serves his office to the Crown well, and I do not place merit in the rumors of his dealings with the Earl of Sherwood. As to whether de Wendenal deals in stolen goods, I would say no more so than the average peer considers the brandy he drinks as contraband. Much of the so-called luxuries, we as a social class enjoy, are smuggled into the country. I am well aware of de Wendenal’s reputation, but I am not convinced he is corrupt. Unwise, very much so. Made many poor decisions in his youth, absolutely. But none worse than those owned by the Duke of Thornhill, and we all know Brantley Fowler’s true worth.” 

They all nodded their agreement. “You know best in such matters,” Godown assured. 

“I will have Henderson and Van Dyke accompany the sheriff and the prisoners to London. Give the event a more official look with local magistrates and the Home Office working together. I will send another of our men to take possession of Woodstone’s associates later in the week. From what Lexford and Worthing shared, I suspect the two who assisted with Mrs. Warren’s abduction were nothing more than a pair of unemployed lackeys.”

Finally, in Chapter Twenty-Six, two of the leaders of the theft ring stage an attack on Prince George, heir to the British throne. It is this attack which sets the beginning of I Shot the Sheriff. We read: 

“Remain with me, my boy,” Prinny said through tight lips and a fake smile. 

Through the champagne glass’s shine, Carter noted how Lord Worthing had crossed the musicians’ raised dais to stand some ten feet behind the prince’s attacker, and Swenton approached slowly from the man’s right. Surprisingly, Lord de Wendenal, the Sheriff of Nottingham, edged forward on the left.

In the original Robin Hood tales, we do not upon the sheriff’s character is based. More likely is a composite character, a mix of the stock characters at the time and the real people who served as the High Sheriff of Nottinghamshire, Derbyshire, and the Royal Forests. As most of the Robin Hood tales are set during the absence of King Richard I of England during the Third Crusade, the character of the Sheriff is likely based on the little-known William de Wendenal, which is what I have done in my tale.

The real William de Wendenal was the High Sheriff of Nottingham and Derbyshire from 1190 to 1194. We know little of his life. He assumed his duties in 1190 from baron Roger de Lizoures. However, when King Richard the Lionheart returned to England in March 1194, William de Ferrers, 4th Earl of Derby succeeded William de Wendenal as the High Sheriff. After that, de Wendenal disappears from the historical record. That is, until I brought him back to life (so to speak) in I Shot the Sheriff.

I Shot the Sheriff: Tragic Characters in Classic Literature Series Novel 

William de Wendenal, the infamous Sheriff of Nottingham, has come to London, finally having wormed his way back into the good graces of the Royal family. Yet, not all of Society is prepared to forgive his former “supposed” transgressions, especially the Earl of Sherwood. 

However, when de Wendenal is wounded in an attempt to protect Prince George from an assassin, he becomes caught up in a plot involving stolen artwork, kidnapping, murder, and seduction that brings him to Cheshire where he must willingly face a gun pointed directly at his chest and held by the one woman who stirs his soul, Miss Patience Busnick, the daughter of a man de Wendenal once escorted to prison. 

I Shot the Sheriff is based on the classic tales of Robin Hood, but it is given a twist and brought into the early 19th Century’s Regency era. Can even de Wendenal achieve a Happily Ever After? If anyone can have the reader cheering for the Sheriff of Nottingham’s happiness, it is award-winning author Regina Jeffers. 

NOW FOR THE GIVEAWAY: I HAVE 2 eBOOK COPIES OF “I SHOT THE SHERIFF” AVAILABLE TO THOSE WHO COMMENT BELOW. WINNERS WILL BE ANNOUNCED AND PRIZES DELIVERED WHEN THE BOOK RELEASES ON NOVEMBER 30, 2020.

Posted in book excerpts, book release, British history, eBooks, Georgian England, Georgian Era, historical fiction, Living in the Regency, publishing, real life tales, Realm series, Regency romance, romance, Vagary, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

The Art of Dressmaking During the Regency Era

Posted on November 20, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

I had another author recently ask me if I knew the time frame for a dressmaker to complete a gown. In the scenario explained to me, the gown was already embroidered and an initial fitting had occurred. So it is really be just a matter of making small adjustments after a final fitting. I said 3-5 days. However, the other author’s editor thought that was too short of a time, saying it would take two weeks, at a minimum.

In truth, the number of days would depend on a variety of issues: Is the modiste located in London? Or in a provincial town or village? Is the client one of the leaders of Society or a simple younger sister of a gentleman? A duchess, for example, would command more service than somebody unknown among the haut ton.  How many other clients is the modiste servicing at the time? Is it the beginning of a new Season in London? Or is it off season? When the London Season starts, everyone requires new gowns, so modistes are overrun with business.

Small adjustments after a final fitting can take less than an hour, depending on the amount of work that must be done—all measurements would have been made before starting the gown, so there would be only tiny adjustments.  A reputable, and, likely, a not so reputable, London modiste would have many seamstresses working for her.  In an emergency, they could put together a simple gown for an important client in less than a day from scratch. More than likely, they would work late into the night or through the night, if need be, to please a good client or a client of which they were very fond or they were being paid handsomely to product the gown in a short period of time.

The amount of work a dressmaker has and the number of seamstresses employed would determine how long it takes to make a garment. Of course, the trimming and such also matters.  A court dress could well take five days if the seamstresses worked on nothing else. If one required a garment made expeditiously, one could pay extra, and it could usually be done.

A London dress maker could usually make one faster than a village  seamstress, though even a village seamstress could finish a simple dress in three days, if she had no other work.

One must recall, there were no printed patterns, so the lady and the dressmaker would have to confer on which style dress she wanted and then choose the fabric. If the lady had never been to the store before, she would be measured  and a unfinished muslin or linen mock up dress made and fitted to her. The most skilled part of the procedure was drawing off the pieces and then cutting them properly. The dressmaker had to be able to see the pattern behind the fashion illustrations.

The muslin pieces would be used as pattern pieces when the material was cut. Then the fabric pieces would be pinned together. Next, someone would baste the seams. All this is the time consuming part. The customer was supposed to come for the final fitting wearing the stays she would wear with the dress. Dress makers did not usually make the stays. Usually, the mock up dress served as the lining for the actual finished product.

The dress would be tried on and any final adjustments made. Then seamstresses would sew all the seams and add any trimmings and tidy up the gown.

A slightly out-of-period side note. Around the middle of the 19th century, the average Parisian modiste employed 20 seamstresses. By 1870, when his business was really taking off, Charles Worth employed 1200, turning out thousands of extremely elaborate dresses a year. Even the most elaborate gowns I’ve seen in prints from the Regency era are nothing like as complicated as Worth gowns from the 1870s.

So, as to the answer to my friend’s question, the time for the finished dress could be adjusted to fit the plot and the circumstances. If it means that the adjustments are minor and the dressmaker employs half a dozen seamstresses, the dress could be finished the next day. 

Posted in British history, customs and tradiitons, fashion, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Regency era | Tagged , , , , , | 5 Comments

Pirates of the Barbary Coast, a Guest Post from Jann Rowland

Posted on November 9, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

This post originally appeared on the Austen Authors’ blog on July 22, 2020. Enjoy! 

Among the most fearsome historic raiders of the seas were the Barbary Pirates, corsairs who operated from ancient times until the early nineteenth century.While their predations included such acts as seizing shipments of goods and wealth, their main purpose was to secure slaves to fund the slave trade, slaves which were sold as far away as China. Though the pirates operated mainly in the western Mediterranean Sea, their activities extended down the west coast of Africa and as far north as Iceland, as they raided villages and carried away slaves for the markets in northern Africa.

The Berbers themselves, from whom the term “Barbary Coast” derives, are an ethnicity indigenous mostly to North Africa, though some live in parts of West Africa. While they had at times been subject to the Ottoman Empire, the Barbary Coast states, including people based in modern day Algeria, Tunisia, Libya, and Morocco, were largely autonomous in that they chose their own leaders and lived off the booty they took from other powers. The pirates did not seem to care much who they took prisoner as long as it brought them profit—members of every race, creed, or religion were targets for plunder.

It is interesting to note that while most European powers as well as the Ottomans had abandoned the oar-driven vessels of antiquity, the Barbary Pirates continued to employ such vessels, which were often crewed by as many as one hundred fighting men armed with swords and pistols. In many ways, the Barbary ships were the direct descendants of triremes of the ancient world. This led to a distinct advantage for the heavily-armed European navies that sported potent cannons and heavy arms. The Barbary Pirates knew this and their fleets were not built for battle; they were raiders that attacked vulnerable targets and fled at the sight of armed ships of war.

At times, the piracy problem became so great that some states began campaigns to purchase slaves back from the traders. Money was collected at various churches, and at times ships were taxed to add to the fund, which was then used to purchase back slaves. Of course, though this effort was laudable, the numbers of slaves they returned to their homelands through this process was nothing more than a trickle compared with those taken away.

Various expeditions were mounted to attempt to curb the threat, counter-raiding the Barbary Coast states, at times carrying captives away, while at other times destroying facilities in retaliation. A notable such action was the sacking of Bona in 1607 by the Knights of Saint Stephen. Others, such as the Dutch bombardment of Tripoli in 1670 slowed the pirates’ activities for a time. However, it did little to halt the predations of the corsairs and in some ways spurred them on.

The attacks of the pirates reached their peak in the early seventeenth century, though they began to wane late that same century due to the increased naval capacity of those states ravaged by the Barbary Pirates. Some, such as the United States, negotiated treaties with the Barbary States to avoid their ships being targeted, but as a result were forced to pay heavy tributes in exchange. By some estimates, 20% of the United States federal governments’ expenditures in 1800  were in the form of such tributes.

By the nineteenth century, the flow of slaves through raids slowed to a trickle. The United States fought two Barbary wars, the first from 1801 – 1805, the second in 1815, to protect their merchant fleets from the raiders. But it was not until the French conquered Algiers in 1830 that the pirates were defeated and their raiding halted. There are some estimates that during a one hundred year period from the late sixteenth century to the late seventeenth, almost one million slaves were carried into captivity. The total number during their centuries-long existence must have numbered in the millions.

This is just a taste of the history of the Barbary Pirates, for there is much more that could be discussed if we had the time and space to do so. By the nineteenth century and the time of Jane Austen, much of the power of these raiders had been reduced, their effectiveness diluted. That did not stop them entirely, for there are other means of obtaining slaves by the use of men of few morals and an unscrupulous lust for wealth.

Thus, I will leave you with this post. Remember, this is part of a series of posts discussing some of the themes of my upcoming duology, which now has a title! The series name will be called The Bonds of Life, and the first volume The Bonds of Friendship. Thanks to J. W. Garrett for both the suggestion of the title and the original idea! I hope I haven’t painted too dark a picture—there will be a happily ever after. Have no fear of that!

Posted in Austen Authors, Guest Post, history, real life tales, research, writing | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on Pirates of the Barbary Coast, a Guest Post from Jann Rowland

How Did Debrett’s Come By The Information Listed in “The New Peerage”?

Posted on November 6, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

I had an author friend send me an email question recently. She wanted to know if a man (her hero) had been married for some time, how well known would the marriage be to others in Society? Could he go about without anyone knowing? (Definitely a interesting plot point)

Today, Debrett’s is a professional coaching (meaning instructional) company, publisher, and authority on etiquette and behaviour. It was founded in 1769 with the publication of the first edition of The New Peerage. The company takes its name from its founder, John Debrett. 

John Debrett (8 January 1753 – 15 November 1822) was the London-born son of Jean Louys de Bret, a French cook of Huguenot extraction and his wife Rachel Panchaud. As a boy of thirteen, John Debrett was apprenticed to a Piccadilly bookseller and publisher, Robert Davis. He remained there until 1780, when he moved across Piccadilly to work for John Almon, bookseller and stationer. John Almon edited and published his first edition of The New Peerage in 1769 and went on to produce at least three further editions. By 1790, he had passed the editorship on to John Debrett who, in 1802, put his name to the two small volumes that made up The Correct Peerage of England, Scotland and Ireland. Despite twice being declared bankrupt, Debrett continued as a bookseller and editor of the Peerage; the last edition edited by him was the 15th edition, which was published in 1823. He was found dead at his lodgings on 15 November 1822, and was buried at St James’s Church, Piccadilly. [Debrett’s]

Now, back to the question at hand: During the early 1800’s, did Debrett’s list marriages?  Would others know of a person’s marriage, even if he does not mention it?

Debrett gathered the published information for his volumes from the deaths, births, and marriage columns in the newspaper and from  announcements sent to it; therefore, if no one reported the marriage, the information would not automatically be included. The 1802 Debrett’s did not, for example, know that Lord Byron had died in 1798. Upon his death, the barony passed to Byron’s cousin George Anson Byron, a career naval officer. The poet we know as Lord Byron, George Gordon Noel, sixth Baron Byron, was born on 22 January 1788 in London. His father died when he was three, with the result that he inherited his title from his great uncle in 1798. (BBC History)

The second part of my friend’s question dealt with how to address the hero, as he also had a military commission. 

The answer is rather simple: The hero could be addressed by whichever designation he prefers:  Captain Lord So-and-so or just Lord So-and-so.

From Debrett’s 1816 we find …  

If an officer has a title, or a courtesy title or style, he is addressed in the opening of a letter and in speech in exactly the same way as any other title-holder. It should be noted, however, that some titled officers prefer to be addressed by their Service rank.

If Admiral Sir Guy Jones expresses his preference to be addressed ‘Dear Admiral Jones’ instead of ‘Dear Sir Guy’, this should, of course, be observed.

On an envelope the service rank appears before the title, except in the case of ‘His Excellency’.

The one aspect of Debrett’s that has to be taken into account (in the historical sense as far as authoring historical novels goes), is that Debrett’s has updated its etiquette in relation to modern day rules of engagement. Take mediaeval and early post mediaeval forms of address – verbal and written – and one can see a differing theme in respect of titles. After all, a prince was referred to as “his grace,” so, too, monarchs who were also referred to as Sire/Majesty, et al.  Slowly changes came about as mediaeval squires (servants) seemingly vanished somewhere along the way and county squires (landowners) who had their own servants are the only reference to squires. What a turn-around in social standing that is?

Prior, during, and post the English Civil Wars and stretching to the Georgian era, names came before title, and in many aristocratic circles remained, thus, until the reign of William IV & the Victorian era, i.e. Charles Standish, Duke of Wherever. Letters were  addressed to the duke by fellow aristocrats as “Charles Balderdash, The Duke of Wherever.” Whilst lesser persons in society (knowing their place) would address a letter to “The Duke of Wherever,” and head the letter with “Dear Duke.” On the other hand, in private letters between aristocrats, one may address the duke as “Dear Balderdash,” and if close or related another may use, “Dear Charles,” or plain “Charles.”

By the Georgian era Squires (county gentlemen) had become magistrates wielding lesser judicial power than county court circuit judges, but nonetheless, these squire magistrates were greatly feared by poachers and livestock rustlers. I do not think I need to enlighten my readers as to why that was so, except local knowledge added greatly to a squire’s intelligence networking. What other interesting aspects of Historical Britain post English Civil Wars strikes a note with you?

Posted in British history, estates, Georgian England, Georgian Era, history, peerage | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on How Did Debrett’s Come By The Information Listed in “The New Peerage”?

Fitzwilliam Darcy, Esq. (Esquire). . . Correct or Not?

Posted on November 4, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

According to etymonline.com, the work “Esquire” is a noun. It came to use “in the late 14C., from Middle French esquier “squire,” literally “shield-bearer” (for a knight), from Old French escuier “shield-bearer (attendant young man in training to be a knight), groom” (Modern French écuyer), from Medieval Latin scutarius “shield-bearer, guardsman” (in classical Latin, “shield-maker”), from scutum “shield” (see escutcheon). For initial e-, see e-. Compare squire (n.). Originally the feudal rank below knight, sense broadened 16c. to a general title of courtesy or respect for the educated and professional class, especially, later, in U.S., regarded as belonging especially to lawyers.

In our own dear title-bearing, democratic land, the title of esquire, officially and by courtesy, has come to include pretty much everybody. Of course everybody in office is an esquire, and all who have been in office enjoy and glory in the title. And what with a standing army of legislators, an elective and ever-changing magistracy, and almost a whole population of militia officers, present and past, all named as esquires in their commissions, the title is nearly universal. [N.Y. Commercial Advertiser newspaper, quoted in Bartlett, 1859]

Meanwhile, Wikiquote tells us: “Esquire (abbreviated Esq.) is a term of British origin (ultimately from Latin scutarius in the sense of shield bearer via Old French “esquier”). In Britain, it is an unofficial title of respect, having no precise significance, which is used to denote a high but indeterminate social status. Esquire is cognate with the word squire, which originally meant an apprentice or assistant to a knight. Relics of this origin can still be found today associated with the word esquire. For example in the Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, “Esquire” is today the most junior grade of membership. In the United States, the suffix Esq. most commonly designates individuals licensed to practice law, and applies to both men and women (in more modern times).”

Historically, in the UK, “esquire” was a title of respect, sometimes referred to as a courtesy title, accorded men of higher social rank, especially those members of the landed gentry who were above the rank of “gentleman,” but below the rank of “knight.” William Blackstone, a renown judge and jurist and author of Commentaries on the Laws of England said of the subject, “The title should be limited to those only who bear an office or trust under the Crown and who are styled ‘esquires’ by the king in their commissions and appointments; and all, I conceive, who are once honoured by the king with the title of ‘esquire’ have a right to that distinction for life.”

The Complete English Gentleman (1630), by Richard Brathwait, shows the exemplary qualities of a gentleman.

A gentleman was considered to be any man of good and courteous conduct. Originally, it was the lowest rant of the landed gentry of England, ranking below both “esquire” and “yeoman.” The rank of gentleman was comprised of the younger sons of the younger sons of peers and the sons of a baronet, a knight, and an esquire, in what is known as perpetual succession. A gentleman was not only courteous and law abiding, but he could display a coat of arms, which was a right he shared with members of the peerage, as well as some of the gentry. These groups equaled the British nobility.

In the 17th century, in Titles of Honour (1614), the jurist John Selden said that the title gentleman likewise speaks of ‘our English use of it’ as convertible with nobilis (nobility by rank or personal quality) [Selden, John (1614). Titles of Honour (1st ed.). London: William Stansby for Iohn Helme] and describes the forms of a man’s elevation to the nobility in European monarchies. In 1827, James Henry Lawrence explained and discussed the concepts, particulars, and functions of social rank in a monarchy, in the book On the Nobility of the British Gentry, or the Political Ranks and Dignities of the British Empire, Compared with those on the Continent. [Lawrence, Sir James Henry (1827) [1824]. The Nobility of the British Gentry or the Political Ranks and Dignities of the British Empire Compared with those on the Continent (2nd ed.). London: T.Hookham — Simpkin and Marshall.]

Esquire was not in general use for solicitors. More likely to be used by barristers. It was the form used by all those grandsons of peers without any other titles.

The rules of precedence of the Regency period put “esquire” and “gentlemen” in different categories. Landed men, especially those related to peers, like Fitzwilliam Darcy in Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” would be an “esquire.” He was the grandson of an earl. All the sons of younger sons of the peerage would be an “esquire” as would be sons of knights and baronets. Their sons would be gentlemen as would those with the king’s commission as an officer and a gentleman. The lines between esquire and gentleman were often hard to distinguish for all except the College of Heralds, and they charged a fee to make the decision.

“Esquire” was a status on the table of precedence.

An “esquire” was also a barrister or a judge who had not been given a peerage or even a knighthood. Younger sons of younger sons of dukes and marquesses or sons of earls, viscounts, and barons might be presented “esquire” after their names. Professors usually used their academic degrees, but would probably be seated with the esquires. The sons of a baronet ranked there.

A knight is a title senior to “esquire” for a barrister, for example. William Garrow was both. He was Sir William Garrow, PC, KC, FRS. (No “esquire.) Once knighted, he would be called Sir William. [On a side note and of interest to me with 40% of my ancestral DNA being from Scotland, Garrow was descended from the Garriochs of Kinstair, a Scottish royal line.]

“Esquire” was not used in speech, but, more so, perhaps, in addressing a formal letter.

If this topic interests you, please consider reading In Britain, who is entitled to the suffix of “Esquire” (“Esq.”)? It is MUCH more detailed than what I have attempted to cover here.

Posted in British history, Georgian England, Georgian Era, Jane Austen, Living in the Regency, Living in the UK, Pride and Prejudice, real life tales, Regency era, titles of aristocracy, word play | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Celebrating the Release of “A Regency Christmas Together” Anthology + a Giveaway

Posted on November 2, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

I have again joined forces with several authors for another Christmas-themed anthology. This one is entitled A Regency Christmas Together. The idea behind it is the hero and heroine are “trapped” together at Christmas. The “trapping” could be anything from being snowed in to being in a dangerous situation. My story “Lord Radcliffe’s Best Friend“ is something of the latter nature, for those who regularly follow me know I adore a bit of drama in my tales. 

Hendrake Barrymore, Lord Radcliffe, is a typical male, a bit daff when it comes to the ways of women, especially the ways of one particular woman, Miss Adelaide Shaw, his childhood companion, a girl who plays a part in every pleasant memory Drake holds.

Yet, since he failed to deliver Addy’s first kiss on her fifteenth birthday, his former “friend” has struck him from her life just at a time when Radcliffe has come to the conclusion Adelaide is the one woman who best suits him.

This tale is more than a familiar story of friends to lovers for it presents the old maxim an unusual twist.

Below, you will find a short excerpt from Chapter One. If you are interested in reading more, swing over to Austen Authors for the first part of the chapter and for a second chance to win an eBook copy of A Regency Christmas Together. 

When news had arrived at the manor that Sultan could not be located, Adelaide knew exactly where the horse had gone. She had quickly changed into her riding habit and set out for the border between her father’s property and that of Lord Radcliffe. Addy suspected Sultan’s natural instinct to mate might be the needle’s prick in the continuing estrangement between the earl and her family. 

She reached a gloved hand down to pat her gelding’s neck. “Might as well face the Devil while the sun is up,” she murmured. She motioned to the grooms, who had accompanied her, to fetch Sultan. “Take him home. I will speak to Radcliffe and discover what restitution will be required. Do not mention any of this to my father. I shall discuss the matter with the baron upon my return. Also, send men out to repair our side of the fence. It appears someone has removed the rails we set atop of the brick wall. For what purpose, I have no idea. Yet, the removal permitted Sultan an easy jump.” 

“Yes, miss,” the men chorused. 

Looking to the opposing ridge, she spotted Radcliffe studying her. Without even a nod of her head in greeting, she nudged her horse forward. Quietly, she questioned, “Why must the man be the handsomest man of my acquaintance?”

Alcon shook his head as if in response. 

“I know,” she said softly. “I should ask the opinion of another female. Perhaps the mare below has taken note of his lordship’s appearance. Mayhap she holds an opinion of her owner that could prove mine in error.” 

She made her approach as Radcliffe had descended his side of the ridge to meet her in the middle. If only they could again find a similar “middle territory” in their relationship, then, she could, perhaps, go on with her life. Yet, Adelaide knew it would take more than this brief meeting to make her whole again. Bringing Alcon to a halt, she schooled her expression before greeting the earl. “Your lordship.” 

“Miss Shaw.” Why was it that the sound of his voice did odd things to her composure? It had been six years since she had displaced him from her world, and so much had changed within both their lives that should have made a difference, but hadn’t. However, anytime her eyes fell upon the man or someone mentioned his name or her father complained about the expense of having a well dug to use for the stock and the crops, she was right back where she always had been: in love with Hendrake Barrymore. 

If she could discover another man she could tolerate for more than an hour, maybe, then, she could marry and move away to her husband’s home. Distance, she had reasoned often, would aid in forgetting the ease which once had existed between her and the young man who had been her best friend when they were children. 

“I apologize for Sultan, my lord,” she said through tight. lips. “I shall speak to my father regarding restitution to Lord—”

“Shelton,” he supplied. 

“To Lord Shelton,” she continued. “I realize Sultan’s actions cost you the sale of the foal, and in these trying times, such business can assist in maintaining the land.” 

“Your father requires the fee, as well,” he said, keeping his steady gaze upon her and making Addy want to fidget. 

“I assure you, my lord, Sultan’s presence here today was not purposeful,” she argued, completely ignoring his gesture of goodwill. 

“I did not think the stallion’s actions purposeful,” he corrected. A frown marked his brow. “But certainly inconvenient.” 

She made to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than the bluest eyes she had ever beheld. “It appears someone has removed the wooden rails my father had placed on the brick wall marking the border between our properties. Sultan can easily clear the brick one without the railing.” 

His lordship eyed the wall suspiciously. “Like you, I would not name what remains of the wooden barrier a detriment to a horse of Sultan’s stature.” 

Addy kept her gaze upon the sad state of the wall. Such was safer where interactions with Radcliffe were concerned. From where she sat, the wall was in worse shape than she had originally thought. “It appears someone required . . . required the wood . . . to warm their cottages.” 

He dismounted, crossed to where she sat and lifted his hands to her to assist her to dismount. Obviously, he meant to make more of this encounter than was necessary. The fact she could not dismount or remount, for that matter, without his assistance, was something she was reluctant to admit, even to herself, for she did not want to consider the exquisite warmth of his hands upon her, for if he was to touch her, she would not be responsible for her actions. Despite his having betrayed her, even after six years, the man still held a power over her. 

“May I assist you down?” he questioned, but he did not step away from her.

Reluctantly, she nodded her agreement. “Step back so I might release my foot from the stirrup.”

“With your permission, I will do it,” he suggested with a slight lift of his brows, as if he meant to challenge her, something he had always done—something she desperately missed of having him in her life. 

Biting her bottom lip in frustration, she nodded her agreement. 

The subtle warmth of his hand on her leg above her half boots did crazy things to her most private place; yet, she swallowed her desire by reminding herself of his betrayal. Instead, she carefully shifted her weight to lift her right leg from around the pommel without exposing more of her person to him or tumbling off the saddle into his arms. A woman without the experience upon a horse she held would have not been able to release her leg and swivel in the seat without a spill. 

Both legs free, she leaned forward to place her hands on his broad shoulders and permitted him to assist her to the ground. The process was quite awkward, not the way one reads of it in the novels she adored, but possible, nonetheless.

At length, he set her before him, catching her hand in his. “We will inspect the wall together.” 

Using his hand for support, she bent to catch the loop on the skirt of her riding habit to avoid tripping upon it and to provide herself a few extra seconds to control the sudden racing tempo of her heart. “Such is not necessary, my lord,” she said tartly as she rose. It was important for her to keep her resentment in place, for she was too susceptible to the man. 

“I insist,” he said, setting her hand upon his arm.

Addy reluctantly fell into step beside him. “I assure you, my lord, my father is capable of seeing to the repair without your input.” 

He stopped suddenly, causing Addy to stumble. His hand again caught her about the waist to prevent her from falling, and Adelaide felt her heart jump with the same pleasant surprise she had known when he had been her best friend in the world and thought to share something with her. 

“Why is it you continue to despise me, Adelaide? I made a foolish mistake. Have you never erred in your judgement?”

The fact her body still touched his in two places—her hand rested upon his arm and his hand rested upon her waist—made it difficult for her to concentrate fully. She purposely stepped back to break their connection in order to clear her thinking. She retorted, “Most assuredly I have erred in my estimation of more than one ‘so-called’ gentleman.” 

“I refuse to apologize for my actions of six years past,” he growled. “I am not the same callow youth I was then.” 

“If I recall correctly, you refused to apologize then, as well. You offered your excuses, but no honest apology,” she countered. 

“This is ridiculous, Addy. We are wasting our lives arguing over something that cannot be changed,” he insisted. 

“As you say, my lord.” She walked away toward the wall. Purposely, studying it, she said, “Evidently, my father must ask Mr. Bowden to design a better barrier.” She fingered the two boards left behind. “This is unacceptable. Someone will take up the task in the morning. You have my word on the matter, my lord.” Without waiting for his opinions, she returned to where Alcon stood munching on the grass. Knowing she could not mount without Radcliffe’s assistance, she caught the animal’s reins to lead it home. “Come, Alcon.” She gave a little tug. “We must return to the manor.” 

Radcliffe stood where she had left him by the wall. From the corner of her eye she noted how he shook his head in what appeared to be disbelief. “You are the most stubborn woman of my acquaintance!”

She kept walking, slowly climbing the hill. It was a good mile to the house, but it would not be her first time walking that distance, nor would it likely be her last, although, she would admit, if only to herself, she wished she had worn more comfortable boots. Yet, she would never voice that particular complaint aloud. 

“You do not mean to allow me to assist you to the saddle?” he called. “Be reasonable, Addy!”

“Miss Shaw!” she declared without looking back to judge his reaction. “I am Miss Shaw.” She hid the pain such a declaration caused her. “My father will be in touch, my lord.” 

“Hendrake!” He stormed toward her, but thankfully did not attempt to prevent her retreat. “I am Hendrake! Drake! Not ‘my lord’ or ‘your lordship,’ not even ‘Radcliffe’! Say my name, Adelaide,” he demanded. 

Tears filled her eyes; yet, she did not slow her pace, nor did she look back to him. Instead, she stiffened her resolve, pulling her posture straighter and lifting her chin. She had a mile to allow herself another good cry. She had had plenty of them in the last six years, and, each time, she prayed it would be the last tears she shed over a man who had allowed his friends to attempt to deliver the kiss he had promised her—who had not thought to protect her from such manhandling—who had not even noticed the redness marking her cheek from where Lord French had slapped her when she had used a fireplace poker to fend off the man’s advances—who had only thought of the kiss she had denied him from a mere maid when Addy had been prepared to present him her whole heart. 

Now, for the GIVEAWAY. I have FIVE eBook copies of A Regency Christmas Together available to those who comment below. The Giveaway ends at midnight EST on Thursday, November 5. The winners will be announced on Sunday, November 8. Prizes will be delivered on November 11, when the anthology releases.

A Regency Christmas Together Anthology is on preorder until November 11, 2020, for only $0.99. It can also be read for FREE on Kindle Unlimited. https://www.amazon.com/Regency-Christmas-Together-Anthology-ANTHOLOGIES-ebook/dp/B08M3BR1Q9/ref=sr_1_3?dchild=1&keywords=a+regency+christmas+together&qid=1603978288&sr=8-3

A delightful anthology of Regency Romance Christmas stories from best selling authors! Fall in love at Christmas, with these wonderful romantic reads! Seven novellas, some sweet, some steamy, to keep you reading all through Winter, each centered around Christmas, and situations where people find themselves unexpectedly trapped together.

Lord Radcliffe’s Best Friend by Regina Jeffers
She’s been his friend since childhood – but he’s only just realised that he wants her to be more. It’s a pity that she’s decided he’s not her friend anymore…

Christmas with THAT Duke by Arietta Richmond
Ten years after betrayal tore them apart, they see each other again, for the first time. Trapped together by a blizzard, will they unravel the truth of the past and reclaim their love?

Mistletoe Magic by Janis Susan May
The daughter of a disgraced peer, now companion to a wealthy merchant’s widow, lady Serena did not expect, when there was a pounding on the door in a snowstorm, that what would fall through that door was her past, come to reclaim her.

Sleigh Bells and Slander by Summer Hanford
The least noticed sister, a gentleman pretending to be someone else, an interfering mother, love found despite it all.

The Merry Widow’s Snowbound Christmas by Sandra Masters
Unexpectedly back together, as the snow piles up outside, the heat rises inside, until long denied love overcomes all resistance.

Julie’s Christmas Joy by Victoria Hinshaw
Time has a habit of passing, and children grow up. When childhood companions meet again, neither is as the other remembered them – they have become far more interesting. When you add the well-meaning plotting of a grandmother and a great-aunt, their Christmas in Bath produces very unexpected results.

Me and Mr Jones by Ebony Oaten
A lady in need of a business partner, a man with a secret, an association that becomes far more than either of them intended.

If you love Regency Historical Romance, you’ll love these!

Posted in anthology, book excerpts, book release, Christmas, Dreamstone Publishing, eBooks, Georgian England, Georgian Era, giveaway, heroines, historical fiction, holidays, Living in the Regency, marriage, marriage customs, peerage, publishing, reading, reading habits, Regency era, Regency romance, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Female Inheritance Laws + an Excerpt from MR. DARCY’S BRIDEs

Posted on October 26, 2020 by Regina Jeffers

Under English law, women were subordinate to their husbands. It was expected that she was under the “protection and influence of her husband, her baron, or lord.” The law stated the old adage of “two shall become one.” She was her husband’s “feme covert.” Any property she owned—real or personal—came under his control. A married woman could not draft a will or dispose of any property without her husband’s consent.

Women rarely inherited property. She could inherit “personal” belongings such as, furniture, jewelry, clothing, moveable goods, etc. But that does not mean that a woman could NOT inherit real property (meaning land, or what we now call “real estate”). The practice of primogeniture under English law presented the oldest son with the real property upon the death of the father. [Note: Matrilineal primogeniture, or female-preference uterine primogeniture, is a form of succession practiced in some societies in which the eldest female child inherits the throne, to the total exclusion of males. The order of succession to the position of the Rain Queen is an example in an African culture of matrilineal primogeniture: not only is dynastic descent reckoned through the female line, but only females are eligible to inherit.] Daughters could only inherit in the absence of a male heir. The law of intestate primogeniture remained on the statue books in Britain until the 1925 property legislation simplified and updated England’s archaic law of real property.

Aware of their daughters’ unfortunate situation, fathers often provided them with dowries or worked into a prenuptial agreement pin money, the estate which the wife was to possess for her sole and separate use not subject to the control of her husband, to provide her with an income separate from his.

In contrast to wives, women who never married or who were widowed maintained control over their property and inheritance, owned land and controlled property disposal, since by law any unmarried adult female was considered to be a feme sole. Some of the peeresses, in their own right had property, as well as the title which the husband couldn’t touch. Still, inheritance through the female of a peerage by patent was  extremely rare and usually only  put into the patent while the 1st peer was alive. Usually, the patents didn’t allow for female inheritance. It was rare for a woman to be able to inherit a peerage created by patent. The Duke of Marlborough had his patent changed when it was obvious he would not have a son, but that was a rare occurrence. Most females succeeded to a lesser peerage created by writ. Once married, the only way that women could reclaim property was through widowhood.

The dissolution of a marriage, whether initiated by the husband or wife, usually left the divorced females impoverished, as the law offered them no rights to marital property. The 1836 Caroline Norton court case highlighted the injustice of English property laws, and generated enough support that eventually resulted in the Married Women’s Property Act.

Lately, England has considered what is cleverly known as the “Downton Abbey” law. The Bill is so called after the anomaly of female succession at the heart of ITV’s Downton Abbey, in which the character of Lady Mary, the eldest daughter of the drama’s fictional earl, was unable to inherit the family seat because it had to pass to a male heir. The bill adds the rank of “baronets” to those titles in which females can inherit.

Like many in the JAFF community, I often write how Anne De Bourgh can inherit Rosings Park. I do so again in my latest novel, MR. DARCY’S BRIDEs. But how is that possible? As mentioned above, Anne can inherit if she does not marry. By English law, she could inherit when she reaches her majority at age 21. I customarily add something in Sir Lewis’s will that has her wait until she is 25. [Mayhap, Sir Lewis anticipated Lady Catherine’s “unwillingness” to be removed from the reins of Rosings Park, and provided Anne a bit of time to find a strong husband who would depose her ladyship, or some such story line.] Yet, in reality, it is also possible for Anne to inherit because her father’s title is one of baronet. The rank of “baronet” was created by James I, who founded the hereditary Order of Baronets in England in 1611 to be conferred on 200 gentlemen with large, profitable estates on the condition they funded the salaries of 30 soldiers for the war with Ireland. In these early baronetcies, it was written into the letters patent from the monarch when the titles were created that women could inherit if there was no male heir. The last baronetess, Dame Anne Maxwell Macdonald, whose ancestors became baronets in 1628, died in 2011 aged 104. Therefore, Anne De Bourgh could be the next baronetess of Rosings Park.

MDF eBook Cover Introducing MR. DARCY’S BRIDE…

I much prefer the sharpest criticism of a single intelligent man to the thoughtless approval of the masses.

ELIZABETH BENNET is determined that she will put a stop to her mother’s plans to marry off the eldest Bennet daughter to Mr. Collins, the Longbourn heir, but a man that Mr. Bennet considers an annoying dimwit. Hence, Elizabeth disguises herself as Jane and repeats her vows to the supercilious rector as if she is her sister, thereby voiding the nuptials and saving Jane from a life of drudgery. Yet, even the “best laid plans” can often go awry.

FITZWILLIAM DARCY is desperate to find a woman who will assist him in leading his sister back to Society after Georgiana’s failed elopement with Darcy’s old enemy George Wickham. He is so desperate that he agrees to Lady Catherine De Bourgh’s suggestion that Darcy marry her ladyship’s “sickly” daughter Anne. Unfortunately, as he waits for his bride to join him at the altar, he realizes he has made a terrible error in judgement, but there is no means to right the wrong without ruining his cousin’s reputation. Yet, even as he weighs his options, the touch of “Anne’s” hand upon his sends an unusual “zing” of awareness shooting up Darcy’s arm. It is only when he realizes the “zing” has arrived at the hand of a stranger, who has disrupted his nuptials, that he breathes both a sigh of relief and a groan of frustration, for the question remains: Is Darcy’s marriage to the woman legal?

What if Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet met under different circumstances than those we know from Jane Austen’s classic tale: Circumstances that did not include the voices of vanity and pride and prejudice and doubt that we find in the original story? Their road to happily ever after may not, even then, be an easy one, but with the expectations of others removed from their relationship, can they learn to trust each other long enough to carve out a path to true happiness?

EXCERPT from MR. DARCY’S BRIDEs (Chapter 18): This scene is Darcy’s threat to Lady Catherine when his aunt insists that he cannot back out of his marriage to Anne. [Trust me. Even with Darcy’s commanding tone in this excerpt, Lady Catherine is not easily put off.]

“Lady Catherine, sir.” His servant barely had time to open the door before his aunt strode into the room.

“Mr. Nathan, have my bags placed in my usual room,” his aunt instructed without so much as a by-your-leave.

Darcy’s ire grew quickly. He despised such presumptuousness. “Mr. Nathan, you will leave her ladyship’s bags upon her coach. And instruct my aunt’s coachman to remain nearby with her carriage. Lady Catherine will not be staying at Pemberley.”

Mr. Nathan nodded his understanding and rushed from the room, closing the door behind him.

“So this is the welcome I am to receive,” her ladyship harumphed. “Your mother would be ashamed of you, Darcy.” She sat heavily in an armed chair.

Darcy remained standing beside his desk. He spoke in clipped tones. “I was considering something similar as to Lady Anne’s reaction to your poor manners, Aunt. I can guarantee that George Darcy would never have tolerated your ordering his servants about, and neither will I. This is Pemberley, madam, not Rosings Park. I am the master here.”

His aunt snarled, “I see your insolence continues.”

“And I see you still think that the world will bend to your whims,” he countered.

Rather than to fuel their standoff with more inflammatory accusations, Lady Catherine switched tactics, a devise he had observed her employ previously. Darcy had always thought her doing so was an intelligent means for a woman to earn agreement over business matters in a man’s world, but her diversion would not work on him. “Is that girl in this house?” she demanded.

Darcy propped a hip on the corner of his desk and attempted to appear casual when he responded, “I fear Georgiana is not at home at this time. My sister will be sorry to have missed your call.”

Lady Catherine’s chin rose in stubbornness. “So that is the way you wish to discuss this matter. Very well. Then I shall be more direct. Did you bring Miss Elizabeth Bennet to Pemberley when you left Matthew Allard’s estate in Scotland?”

Darcy schooled his features. Someone would pay dearly for sharing his business with Lady Catherine. “I am not in the habit of discussing my personal life with anyone, and you of all people should realize I am more Darcy than Fitzwilliam. Your line of questions will not win you my favor.”

“I see you mean to protect this upstart! Are you so enthralled with the woman’s arts and allurements that you cannot see reason? If you fancy her, Darcy, then make her your mistress. Anne will ignore your indiscretions. I will instruct my daughter in the ways of men. Anne can be your wife while this strumpet can suffer your lust.”

His aunt’s description of aristocratic life sickened Darcy. “I have no intention of marrying Anne. You may beg. You may threaten. You may cajole. You may bargain. But I will never change my mind. I permitted you to use the memory of my dear mother to coerce me into agreeing to marry Anne, but Fate had other ideas. Anne was late, and I spoke my vows to another.”

“We both know those vows are not legal,” she drawled in warning tones.

Darcy had heard from his solicitor regarding those first vows exchanged with Elizabeth, and as expected, his first marriage to the woman had proved void. Mr. Jaffray had filed the papers to have the ceremony declared null. “Such knowledge does not change my resolve. I will not marry Anne.”

“Would you prefer that I instruct Anne in suing Miss Bennet for criminal conversation?” she challenged.

“Although neither Anne nor I could officially testify in such a suit, the truth would win out. A skilled barrister can make certain all the facts are relayed to the judge. The lady in question could not have claimed my affections away from your daughter, for beyond a fondness between cousins, I never loved Anne.” He would not say that Elizabeth Bennet held his heart in her delicate hands. “Moreover, as I did not hold the lady’s acquaintance until several hours after that morning at St. George, it would be impossible for her to draw me away with her arts and allurements. All such a suit would do would be to bring ruin upon Anne’s head and mar my family name, as well as yours. I doubt your brother Matlock will be most pleased with your choice. You would have your vengeance and little else to keep you warm in the winter. No man would ever claim Anne after such a public display, but I suppose that is what you wish. You wish Anne forever to remain under your control.”

“Anne’s dowry of thirty thousand pounds can cover any flaw you name,” Lady Catherine argued.

“Yes, I suppose her dowry and the promise of Rosings Park can conceal all but one of my cousin’s failings: that of possessing an overbearing and controlling mother. Only the most desperate of men would consider aligning his name with Sir Lewis’s daughter. You would be willing to turn over Anne’s future to a man of no principles. That fact should surprise me, but it does not,” he said in sad tones. “Such a man would run through every penny of Anne’s inheritance, leaving you and your daughter as Matlock’s poor relations. I suppose that must be my justice.”

“You think me so cold-hearted?” his aunt demanded. “Everything I do, I do for Anne.”

“You may tell yourself these lies,” Darcy cautioned, “but your family and soon society will recognize you as a bitter, vindictive woman.” He sighed heavily. “If you persist in this madness, I will sue Anne for breach of promise. Her fortune will be greatly reduced, for I will win my suit. There were at least two dozen witnesses that can swear to the fact that she left me at the altar. If not for the false exchange of vows, I would have been long gone from the church by the time Anne arrived. You, too, would have been gone, likely looking for your wayward daughter to strangle her, as you attempted to do when she did arrive. Are you willing to tarnish your daughter’s name twice in the court of public notice? Poor Anne who has never had a Season. Who has never been permitted the freedom to form a friendship. Who is poorly educated beyond what her governess provided her. That Anne will be irretrievably ruined.” His tone held the warning of winter’s embrace. “I do not wish to see Anne suffer, but I will not permit you to injure an innocent just to puff up your consequence.”

“An innocent?” his aunt accused in her most implacable voice. “The woman traveled with you to Scotland where she passed herself off as Mrs. Darcy. You see, Mr. and Mrs. Allard were quite pleased to tell my man of your indiscretions. Allard was most displeased that you withdrew your financial support of his latest venture.”

Allard’s financial future would be nonexistent when Darcy finished with the man. He would permit no one to bandy about Elizabeth’s name in a vile manner. “We could debate this matter all afternoon,” he announced as he stood. “I believe somewhere within your hard resolve you want what is best for Anne, and I am flattered you think me a suitable match for my cousin, but I wish to marry in affection, and my feelings for Anne are more brotherly than those of a potential husband.” A profound sadness crept into his tone when Darcy spoke of his cousin’s situation. He should have executed more to assist Anne before things had reached this turning point. Like most in the family, he had thought all would change when Anne inherited Sir Lewis’s properties and fortune. He had never considered the fact that Lady Catherine would do all she could to shove Anne out Rosings Park’s door in order to maintain control of all of Sir Lewis’s holdings. “Do you not wish something more for your daughter and your dearest sister’s only son than a marriage of convenience?”

“I wish to see Anne well settled,” she declared in undisguised contempt.

Darcy hesitated briefly before accepting the gauntlet. His aunt would force him to be ruthless. “Then you leave me no choice, madam. If you force me to marry Anne, I will leave you with little more than a humble cottage and a pair of servants to tend you for the remainder of your days. Anne will be five and twenty in two months. I will postpone the wedding until your daughter inherits Rosings Park per Sir Lewis’s will. All of it will belong to her, and as the estate and the fortune are entailed upon the female line, when we marry, as Anne’s husband, I will have control of it all. I have no intention of bringing Anne to child, so your many manipulations will be for naught. As you say, I will take my lust elsewhere. At Anne’s death, I will sell Rosings Park and all it holds piece-by piece, until nothing remains of Sir Lewis De Bourgh’s legacy. All you hold most dear will be scattered among the households of those with the funds to purchase it. I will destroy everything you have ever loved: Rosings Park and Anne. And each day of your miserable life you will know that I did these things in retribution for your foolish sense of consequence.” Needing to be away from his aunt, Darcy started for the door. “Good day, your ladyship. I will have Mr. Nathan see you out.” With that, he was gone, never looking back to view the look of astonishment upon his aunt’s features.

Posted in book excerpts, book release, estates, excerpt, giveaway, Inheritance, Jane Austen, Living in the Regency, marriage, marriage customs, marriage licenses, Pride and Prejudice, primogenture, publishing, Vagary, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments