“I believe the new foals should start arriving in late March or early April,” Miles murmured. “Fairwood stud’s first foal crop.” He looked at her with a smile. “Such a wealth of unspoiled potential to nurture and develop. I feel overwhelmed with responsibility.”
She took a deep breath and gazed at the mares. “Perhaps our son or daughter will be as lucky as you were with Badger and a filly or colt will be foaled on their day of birth.” She waited for him to realize the implication of what she’d just said. He remained silent. Straightening, she glanced at Miles and then with a tremulous smile turned to face him.
His face seemed fixed in an incredulous expression of awed delight. “You’re… you’re… oh by god… I’m… that is, we, will be…ah… parents.” Panic erased his delight. “Good lord, I’m too young to be a father. I can’t even manage Ned.”
Laughter gurgled from her. “Finally, I have found something that displaces your unshakeable composure, my lord.” Her voice softened. “Yes. You are to be a father. In April, I think.” Using her fingers to count backwards, she sighed. “Yes, I think April.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “In my opinion—a biased one I admit—I think you will make the finest of fathers for you are the best of husbands.”
He gazed at her as if he had never beheld anything as precious. “My Eleanor. My wife.” He caught her under her knees and swept her up into his arms, twirling her and kissing her until they were both dizzy and laughing. Miles allowed her to slide from his arms and held her until it was apparent she could stand on her own. “Have you told Maman? She will be over the moon.” When she shook her head, he reached for her hand. “We must tell her immediately!” He set off down the carriage way toward the manor house, his strides brisk and long, towing Eleanor in his wake.
Laughing, she protested, “I cannot walk so fast, sir.”
He turned and swept her up again. “Of course not, what am I thinking? I will carry you.”
More laughter spilled from her. “Miles, put me down. I am breeding…not crippled. It is the dress that hobbles me.”
He stopped and looked skyward. “I knew it. I knew it. A father not even five minutes and already I have lost all reason.”
She slipped from his arms and they proceeded to the manor at a more sedate pace. They found the Dowager Duchess, fully dressed, in the kitchen discussing menus with Cook.
“Maman, will you come for a stroll outside with us? Eleanor has something she wishes to tell you.”
Miles’ mother eyed him suspiciously. “Vraiment? Will I be glad of this something, for it is too early in the morning to unsettle my day with worrisome news.”
Miles glanced at Eleanor with a slight smile. “Yes. I believe this ‘something’ will be welcome.”
“Très bien alors. Alright, I will stroll.”
Once out of the front door and down the steps to the forecourt, the Dowager Duchess took Miles’ left arm while Eleanor took his right.
Before they had taken another step, while Eleanor was formulating her thoughts on how exactly to break the big news to the Dowager Duchess, Julia announced, “You wish to tell me you are enceinte, n’est pas? You are in a ‘delicate condition’ as the English say.”
Miles cleared his throat, and Eleanor shot him a quick grimace of question and then peered around him to regard her mother-in-law with bewilderment.
“And, you are pleased, mon cher?” asked Julia.
“Oh, ah, yes. Quite pleased. Ummm…how did you know?”
Julia gave a very gallic shrug. “I am French. We know these things.” The Dowager Duchess exhaled with a happy warble, disentangled herself from her son’s arm and enveloped Eleanor in a smothering hug. “I am delighted with your news. When will my grandchild enter this world?”
“I think… sometime this spring?” She pushed back gently from her mother-in-law’s arms and made a face. “April… if I count correctly.”
“Bien, I will come to Rutledge at the beginning of March. It will be good to see your maman and the Earl again. You should request your friend, Lady Florence Lloyd-Smythe—”
“Wait…again?”
“I heard my name mentioned.” Lady Florence paid the porch steps unusual attention as she made her way down to join the trio. “Why are you up at the crack of dawn and what is it you should request of me?” She smiled through a yawn. “I’m all agog…or as agog as one can be at this ungodly time of day. Lord Miles, you are familiar with the hours the civilized world keeps. Cannot you break Eleanor of this loathsome habit of rising at dawn?”
Eleanor snorted. “Well…hardly dawn, Florence. It is coming on half-past eight. The sun has been up for a good two hours. I’m afraid I shall be rising even earlier than ever, though. Children are wont to rouse their parents at all hours with no regard for time of day.”
Her friend blinked as she gazed at Eleanor and finally murmured, “Children? You?”
“In April.” Eleanor beamed at her friend. “I think.”
Florence blinked more, did an about-face and announced as she ascended the steps she had just come down, “I cannot deal with such earth shattering news before I drink some coffee and the hour is more advanced. I will be in the family dining room attempting to awaken my muzzy brain.”
The three of them watched as Lady Florence disappeared back through the front door, and then burst into laughter.
“She is not suited to country life, I think,” commented the Dowager Duchess.
“No. Not in the slightest,” Eleanor said. “It is a testament to our friendship that she visits me at all.”
Miles cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but I, for one, could do with some coffee—or a stiff brandy. Shall we join Lady Florence?” He held out his arms for Eleanor and Julia.
The three of them entered the family dining room to see Lady Florence standing before one of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the forecourt and carriage drive. She held a cup of coffee to her mouth. Pausing mid-sip, she peered more closely through the window. “Are you expecting visitors, Lord Miles? There are two disreputable and rather dangerous looking military types riding down the center of the carriage way just a bold as brass.” She stepped closer to the window and abandoned her coffee to a side table.
All four stood looking out windows at the figures riding up the approach to the manor house, their weary horses moving at a dragging walk.
“Should you remove all the dirt and dress him in clean clothes, the one on the right would be tolerably good looking. I do believe the gentleman on the left is hurt as he looks to come off his horse at any moment.” She turned from the window and addressed Miles. “Do you know them, or are they more military strays come looking for work?”
As Miles uttered a “Good lord!” the Dowager Duchess gave a small cry of distress and flew from the room.
Miles turned to an inquisitive Lady Florence and a puzzled Eleanor. “I’ve only met him one time, but I think the man on the left is Major Leland Abernathy. The gentleman on the right is my half-brother, Lord Duncan.”
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed the sweet love story of Eleanor and Miles. If so, will you please leave a review with Amazon, Goodreads, or wherever you purchase your books? It does not have to be extensive, one or two lines will be fine.
Authors depend on reviews to spread the word and reviews do so much to help other readers, like you, find books that they can enjoy.
With many thanks,
Patricia
An Author’s Quandary
The Usage of Words, Issues of Inheritance
&
Forms of Address
When setting out to write a historical novel, a number of challenges confronted me above and beyond simply getting the clothing and carriages correct. My first stumbling block was the very words themselves. Many of the words that I normally would use; chemise, bun (hair), bosoms, wink, climax, orgasm, gorgeous, foreplay, fiancée, pub, sex—and on and on, simply were not in use in 1814 or ha
d a different definition entirely from the meaning we ascribe to them in present times. For example, “gorgeous” did not mean beautiful or handsome. It meant “extravagant or highly colorful” and was strictly applied to inanimate objects, never people. It was rather startling for me to discover that I could not use the word “bosoms” or “climax” because they didn’t exist at the time of my story and to use them would be an anachronistic blunder. It was also curious to see words that I consider modern like “to come” (to indicate orgasm or ejaculation) or “dildo” (the type without batteries!) are, in fact, very old and have been in use for centuries. (“Come” originating around 1659 and “dildo” in 1593.)
So! Hi-ho, hi-ho, to the Oxford Dictionary I go. It was fascinating to see the origins of words and phrases but frustrating as I had to eliminate half of my vocabulary. Nevertheless, I have tried to the best of my ability to stay with the appropriate dress, social morays, and language of the time—or at least keep the anachronistic blunders to within the same decade. For example, indoor plumbing wasn’t introduced to upper-income houses until the late 1800s; therefore, the wealthy estate house of Rutledge is still using chamber pots and having hot water brought up by maids. This story also adheres to the prevailing belief that “natural order” as established by the Creator, decrees the male has authority over the female in all things. Unapologetic sexism was the order of the day in the 1800s. A striking example of codified misogyny can be found in the fact that a husband could not be accused of marital rape as once a woman married, she ipso facto granted a blanket acceptance of all sexual intimacy between she and her husband.
And now I come to the second issue that tripped me up—forms of address for aristocrats and how aristocrats of the time addressed each other. The Regency society of 1814 was very formal. Unless you grew up with someone—knew them from childhood—you did not use a person’s first name. Ever. It was considered immensely rude and lacking in respect. Being raised a southern belle, I can vouch for the fact that I was taught never to address another person who was older than me by their first name. Ever. It simply isn’t “done” in better society. I’m still taken aback when total strangers (usually service personnel trying to be friendly) address me by my first name. The well-bred men and women of 1814 took it a degree further—even husbands and wives did not usually refer to each other by their first names.
In A Husband For Hire, Eleanor’s father is properly announced as, The Right Honourable The Earl of Rutledge or simply, the Earl of Rutledge, and Eleanor’s mother is The Right Honourable The Countess of Rutledge or Countess Rutledge. However, Rutledge is a place name and not a surname, therefore it is entirely appropriate for the Earl’s wife to call him “Rutledge.” Eleanor’s family surname is Russell, therefore, Eleanor’s name, as a single woman and daughter to an earl, is Lady Eleanor Constance Russell. Quite confusing. Wherever possible, I defaulted to “Madam” or “my lady”.
Not using a person’s first name presented a problem for me as my heroine’s married name is properly Lady Miles Everleigh and she would be referred to as Lady Miles. Rather confusing to a modern reader when the heroine goes from Lady Eleanor Russell to Lady Miles Everleigh and her father is the Earl of Rutledge and her mother the Countess of Rutledge with nary a Russell in sight!
So…I took some liberties and had Miles occasionally refer to Eleanor by her first name and with the title that she was born with as the daughter of an earl. He calls her Lady Eleanor or Lady Miles and very rarely in moments of great intimacy, or when specifically requested, Eleanor. Upon occasion, a “my lady” or a “madam” will slip in. As the story progresses, you will see an occasional “dear” or “dearest.” For people at the time, this would be an indication of great love or affection and an intimate acquaintance with the person addressed. For example, Miles first uses the word “dearest” to address his mother whom he loves dearly.
Another problem was the issue of the British rules of inheritance during the Regency period, and here I fudged rather significantly. In point of fact, Eleanor, as either a single or married woman, would never have inherited the entailed properties of Rutledge. She stood a much better chance of her husband being awarded the entailed properties because, lacking a male heir, her father, the Earl of Rutledge, could petition for a waiver or “Act of Lords” by “adopting” Eleanor’s husband as his legal male heir (normal custom banned adopted children from inheriting) whereupon Miles would inherit the entailed properties and the title. As his wife, Eleanor would be totally dependent upon his administration of the estate. Barring a waiver such as that, Eleanor could petition for an exception to allow her firstborn son to inherit Rutledge. (Indeed, this is what she thought Elsington was filing on her behalf. He wasn’t.) Her husband, Miles, would be trustee of the property and guardian of her child until such time as her firstborn son came of age. In this case, her son would not inherit the title of Earl unless it was conveyed by the Crown in a separate action.
Eleanor could inherit the personal or freehold properties of her father and administer them in her own name unless her father willed them to someone else—which he did.
Phew. I think I got that right.
There you have it, gentle reader. You can see some of the issues that writing historical romance brings with it, above and beyond getting the clothing and colloquialisms correct. To the extent that I thought the modern reader will understand, I have tried to stay true to the proper forms of address as existed in 1814. In some places, I have strayed from true accuracy and conformed to the modern norms so as not to confuse my reader.
I hope you enjoyed the sweet love story that is A Husband For Hire. I’ve made it as historically accurate as I knew how, but I’m sure I slipped up many times, sometimes intentionally, sometimes through ignorance. Book Two, The Destitute Duke (working title and subject to change) will follow with the story of Lord Duncan Everleigh and Lady Florence Lloyd-Smyth. There will also be a love interest for the Dowager Duchess of Chelsony—much to the consternation of the Everleigh men. Ned will also get his own story when the Everleighs have traveled some years into the future, and he has matured.
Warm regards,
Patricia A. Knight
In Praise of Older Women:
When Prinny’s agent, Ludlow, meets with Miles and Eleanor, he asks Miles, if not for Eleanor’s money, what could possibly compel a gentleman to marry a spinster so advanced in years. Miles returns that men marry older women for many excellent reasons and refers the agent to Benjamin Franklin’s letter to a young friend wherein he extolled the virtues of taking a mature mistress. Here is the letter in its entirety as Benjamin Franklin wrote it in 1745.
Benjamin Franklin’s
Letter To A Friend
June 25, 1745
My dear Friend,
I know of no Medicine fit to diminish the violent natural Inclinations you mention; and if I did, I think I should not communicate it to you. Marriage is the proper Remedy. It is the most natural State of Man, and therefore the State in which you are most likely to find solid Happiness. Your Reasons against entering into it at present, appear to me not well-founded. The circumstantial Advantages you have in View by postponing it, are not only uncertain, but they are small in comparison with that of the Thing itself, the being married and settled. It is the Man and Woman united that make the compleat human Being. Separate, she wants his Force of Body and Strength of Reason; he, her Softness, Sensibility and acute Discernment. Together they are more likely to succeed in the World. A single Man has not nearly the Value he would have in that State of Union. He is an incomplete Animal. He resembles the odd Half of a Pair of Scissars. If you get a prudent healthy Wife, your Industry in your Profession, with her good Economy, will be a Fortune sufficient.
But if you will not take this Counsel, and persist in thinking a Commerce with the Sex inevitable, then I repeat my former Advice, that in all your Amours you should prefer old Women to young ones. You call this a Paradox, and demand my Reasons. They are these:
1. Because as they have more Knowledge of the World and their Minds are better stor'd with Observations, their Conversation is more improving and more lastingly agreable.
2. Because when Women cease to be handsome, they study to be good. To maintain their Influence over Men, they supply the Diminution of Beauty by an Augmentation of Utility. They learn to do a 1000 Services small and great, and are the most tender and useful of all Friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable. And hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old Woman who is not a good Woman.
3. Because there is no hazard of Children, which irregularly produc'd may be attended with much Inconvenience.
4. Because thro' more Experience, they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an Intrigue to prevent Suspicion. The Commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your Reputation. And with regard to theirs, if the Affair should happen to be known, considerate People might be rather inclin'd to excuse an old Woman who would kindly take care of a young Man, form his Manners by her good Counsels, and prevent his ruining his Health and Fortune among mercenary Prostitutes.
5. Because in every Animal that walks upright, the Deficiency of the Fluids that fill the Muscles appears first in the highest Part: The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding2 only what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement.
A Husband for Hire (The Heirs & Spares Series Book 1) Page 25
