by Nichole Van
Neither of them stated the obvious.
Jamie’s loss had nearly killed Kieran the first time. To raise his hopes and have them dashed again . . .
“All we can do is search for answers,” Ewan said.
“Aye,” Andrew agreed. “And we will. But—” He fixed a smile on Rafe and Sophie. “—this evening is one of celebration. Let us raise a glass to our good fortune. To our friendship. But, most of all, let us salute Rafe and his lovely bride.” He raised his glass. “Slàinte mhath.”
To your health.
To a person, each raised the glass in their hand, giving the traditional response.
“Slàinte!”
Author’s Note
I know this book has been a long time coming. So first of all, I wish to thank everyone who sent encouragement and helped me finally (finally!) finish it.
As usual, a book is a mix of fact and faction, particularly a historical romance. Allow me to suss out some of the specifics for you, though be warned there are minor spoilers ahead.
First of all, Sophie’s family situation was modeled after the real-life Earl of Oxford. The first Earl of Oxford and Earl Mortimer, Robert Harley, was a man of letters. Upon his death in 1724, Samuel Johnson himself wrote The Harleian Miscellany, a series of volumes cataloging the late earl’s library.
Fast forward fifty years, and we arrive at Edward Harley, the 5th Earl of Oxford and Earl Mortimer (1773-1848). This particular earl was not quite as illustrious. Most significantly, his countess, Jane Scott, was notorious for her philandering ways, including a rather public affair with Lord Byron. Because of this, it was assumed that many of Lord Oxford’s eight children were not his own. This fact led many in Polite Society to refer to the earl’s children as the Harleian Miscellany.
Traveling in 1819, particularly into the Highlands of Scotland, was a fraught endeavor. Roads north of Edinburgh and Glasgow, in particular, were not well-maintained. In fact, Cairn O’Mount is still a fairly dicey road today, though a lovely drive in the late summer when the heather is in full purple bloom.
Highwaymen were definitely on the wane in 1819, but it would be another fifteen years before they would be eradicated entirely.
The plot for Romancing the Rake revolves around ideas of emotional abuse and mental illness. Obviously, neither thing was clearly identified or discussed in 1819. Melancholy or depression was thought to be something a person could simply snap out of. Much of the treatment for it, therefore, was similar to shock therapy—ice water baths and physical restraints. Worse, a man who had charge of a woman (a husband, father, or brother) could have the woman confined to an asylum for almost any behavior that he deemed unsuitable, such as voicing an opinion with which he disagreed or refusing to obey him. (Because, obviously, a woman who was not submissive to the men in her life must be mentally ill in some way.) Cases such as this eventually resulted in public outrage that finally led to legislative change.
Allow me to also comment on Scottish language and pronunciation. It’s always a struggle to know how to write an accent, particularly in a historical novel. Scotland today recognizes three distinct languages: Scottish Gaelic, Scots, and English. Historically, Scottish Gaelic has been spoken in the Highlands. Most Lowland Scots in the early 1800s (i.e. those from Glasgow and Edinburgh) would have spoken a mix of Scots and English. (Sidenote: If you want to read some Scots, Wikipedia actually has an entire dictionary written in Scots—sco.wikipedia.org.)
Of course, I realized fairly quickly that a modern, primarily American, audience would struggle to understand Scots.
So, what to do?
After much consideration, I decided to go with a slightly more modern Scottish accent and syntax, simply to aid readability. I write novels, after all, not history texts. I’ve used modern spellings of Scottish pronunciations and, even then, restricted myself to a few key words to give a Scottish flavor to the text. So at times, the accent as written is not perfectly consistent; this was done to help readability. That said, I have continued to use more common Scots words wherever possible—e.g. ken/kens/kent (think, know), eejit (idiot), glaikit (foolish), fou (drunk), etc.
I have created an extensive pinboard on Pinterest with images of things I talk about in the book. So if you want a visual of anything—including Jamie’s tartan or Cairn O’Mount, etc.—pop over there and explore. Just search for NicholeVan.
As with all books, this one couldn’t have been written without the help and support from those around me. I know I am going to leave someone out with all these thanks. So to that person, know that I totally love you and am so deeply grateful for your help!
To my beta readers—you know who you are—thank you for your editing suggestions, helpful ideas, and support. And, again, an extra-large thank you to Annette Evans and Norma Melzer for their fantastic editing skills.
Again, I cannot thank Rebecca Spencer and Erin Rodabough enough for their insights. And a shout-out to Julie Frederick for her keen observations, particularly in helping me to layer in more fully Rafe and Sophie dealing with the anger and hatred from their respective abusive relationships. Thank you to Joan Runs-Through for honing in a couple key problems and helping me to address them.
Finally, thank you to Andrew, Austenne, Kian, and Dave for your endless patience and support.
And to all my readers who waited so long for this book, thank you for continuing to read and support my work!
Reading Group Questions
Yes, there are reading group questions. I suggest discussing them over lots of excellent chocolate (solid, liquid, frozen, cake . . . I’m not picky about the precise state of matter of said chocolate. Chocolate in any form is good chocolate.)
Also—fair warning—there are faint spoilers inherent in these questions if you have not finished reading the book as of yet.
The book has a rather lengthy intro section that details Rafe and Sophie’s initial romance, before moving on to the main plot. Why do you think the author included the scenes? Did you like seeing the beginning of their romance? Why or why not?
How did you feel about the Duke of Kendall’s threats to send his wife to a lunatic asylum? Do you feel that Rafe acted appropriately in response to his father’s constant threats?
Do you agree with the author’s viewpoint, that hate and anger are a shield for other emotions that we would prefer to avoid? Why or why not?
What does it mean to forgive someone? Do you feel Rafe should, or will eventually, forgive his father? Why or why not?
Did you see the final twist coming, the Duke of Kendall’s big secret? If not, what did you think would happen? Did you like the resolution the book came to? Why or why not?
Clearly, this book contains a lot of information about Scotland and Scottish culture. Did you learn something new or unexpected? If so, what was it?
Did you agree with how the love story progressed? Did you truly feel like Rafe and Sophie had come to genuinely love each other? Why or why not?
Other Books by Nichole Van
Brotherhood of the Black Tartan
Suffering the Scot
Romancing the Rake
Loving a Lady (Ewan’s book, coming Autumn 2020)
Click here to read a preview of Suffering the Scot
Other Regency Romances
Seeing Miss Heartstone
Vingt-et-Un | Twenty-one (a Regency novella included in the Falling for a Duke anthology)
A Ring of Gold (a Victorian novella included in the A Note of Change anthology)
Click here to read a preview of Seeing Miss Heartstone
The House of Oak Series
Intertwine
Divine
Clandestine
Refine
Outshine
Tumble through time to Regency England. Click here to read a preview of Intertwine.
The Brothers Maledetti
Lovers & Madmen
Gladly Beyond
Love’s Shadow
Lightning Struck
A Madness Most Discree
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Want to spend time with hunky Italian men and spooky paranormal happenings? Click here to read a preview of Gladly Beyond.
About the Author
The Short Version:
Nichole Van is a writer, photographer, designer and generally disorganized crazy person. Though originally from Utah, she currently lives on the coast of Scotland with three similarly crazy children and one sane, very patient husband who puts up with all of them. In her free time, she enjoys long walks along the Scottish lochs and braes. She does not, however, enjoy haggis.
The Long Overachiever Version:
An international bestselling author, Nichole Van is an artist who feels life is too short to only have one obsession. In former lives, she has been a contemporary dancer, pianist, art historian, choreographer, culinary artist and English professor.
Most notably, however, Nichole is an acclaimed photographer, winning over thirty international accolades for her work, including Portrait of the Year from WPPI in 2007. (Think Oscars for wedding and portrait photographers.) Her unique photography style has been featured in many magazines, including Rangefinder and Professional Photographer. She is also the creative mind behind the popular website Flourish Emporium which provides resources for photographers.
All that said, Nichole has always been a writer at heart. With an MA in English, she taught technical writing at Brigham Young University for ten years and has written more technical manuals than she can quickly count. She decided in late 2013 to start writing fiction and has since become an Amazon #1 bestselling author. Additionally, she has won a RONE award, as well as been a Whitney Award Finalist several years running. Her late 2018 release, Seeing Miss Heartstone, won the Whitney Award Winner for Best Historical Romance.
In February 2017, Nichole, her husband and three crazy children moved from the Rocky Mountains in the USA to Scotland. They currently live near the coast of eastern Scotland in an eighteenth century country house. Nichole loves her pastoral country views while writing and enjoys long walks through fields and along beaches. She does not, however, have a fondness for haggis.
She is known as NicholeVan all over the web: Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, etc. Visit http://www.NicholeVan.com to sign up for her author newsletter and be notified of new book releases. Additionally, you can see her photographic work at http://photography.nicholeV.com and http://www.nicholeV.com.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a short review on Amazon.com. Wonderful reviews are the elixir of life for authors. Even better than dark chocolate.
Copyright
Romancing the Rake © 2020 by Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Cover design © Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Interior design © Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Published by Fiorenza Publishing
Kindle Digital Edition 1.0
Romancing the Rake is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
ISBN: 978-1-949863-04-8
Turn the page for a preview of
Suffering the Scot
Brotherhood of the Black Tartan Book 1
A Whitney Award Finalist 2019
Suffering the Scot
Chapter 1
Alsbourne, Sussex
March, 1819
Everyone knew it was an unmitigated disaster.
Some even deployed the adjectives “biblical” and “calamitous.”
For her part, Lady Jane Everard simply hoped to survive the afternoon without anyone drawing blood.
She took a sip of her tea, politely listening to the women buzzing around the drawing room. Her younger half-brother, the Honorable Mr. Peter Langston, sat beside her. The black mourning band around his upper arm spoke tellingly of their situation.
After six months of full-mourning for her stepfather, the late Earl of Hadley, Jane’s family had resumed afternoon at-home hours. Their neighbors had called upon them, ostensibly to lend support during their current hardship. Such concern only thinly veiled their delight in watching the Langstons of Hadley Park descend the social ladder.
Jane’s mother, the widowed Lady Hadley, sat across the room, holding court over the tea tray. Lady Hadley had overcome the death of two aristocratic husbands—a duke and an earl. A few venom-tongued busybodies would not defeat her.
Though Lady Hadley declared herself a devout Anglican, Jane believed her mother’s true religion was a fervent belief in her exalted station in life. The lady defended her social position with the ruthless tenacity of a medieval Crusader, carefully calibrated silences and chilly reserve being her weapons of choice.
“Gracious, what a disaster,” Lady Whitcomb declared, leaning to take a teacup from Lady Hadley. “You are scarcely out of full-mourning, and the new Lord Hadley is at your door.”
“Is it true what they say? That Lord Hadley is barely civilized?” Mrs. Smith asked, darting a glance up from her own cup.
“But, of course.” Lady Whitcomb tilted her head, her graying curls swaying with the motion. “He is an impoverished, coarse Scot, after all.”
Jane considered Lady Whitcomb’s opinion to be slightly redundant, as all Polite Society knew the word Scot already encompassed impoverished and coarse.
“You have the right of it.” Mrs. Burton tsked, accepting a teacup with a mournful shake of her head. “Rumor says Lord Hadley was raised in a crofter’s hut deep in the wilds of Scotland.”
The way Mrs. Burton pronounced Scotland imbued the word with a thousand years of history—the medieval battles between Robert the Bruce and King Edward, the horror of England suffering a succession of wastrel Scottish kings after Elizabeth’s glorious reign, the more recent Battle of Culloden and the current Highland Clearances, all threaded through with Scotland’s uncivilized behavior and loose understanding of decorum.
Lady Hadley did not react, proving again her ruthless control over her emotions. Jane followed suit, keeping her own expression polite, resting her cup and saucer on the table beside her before folding her hands in her lap with exacting precision.
Lady Hadley and her daughter were well-known for their exquisite manners. It was what made the current situation all the more horrific and, to be honest, horrifically delightful to those observing from the outside.
Peter, predictably, snorted.
Jane forgave him. What else could she do? Growing up, she and Peter had only had each other and that fact had not changed over the years. No matter what he did, she loved Peter more than anyone else in the world.
That said . . . snorting was decidedly ill-mannered.
Jane surreptitiously nudged Peter with her foot, a silent reproof.
“Indeed,” Mrs. Burton replied. “Given the Earldom of Hadley’s history with Scotland, the situation is decidedly . . .”
“Ironic?” Lady Whitcomb supplied, mouth pursing into a simpering moue before sipping her tea. “That the hunter has become the hunted?”
Lady Hadley replied with a taut smile.
The facts were decidedly ironic, Jane supposed.
The first Earl of Hadley had been raised to the peerage for, Invaluable services to the Crown in assisting His Majesty’s troops to defeat the unruly Scottish rebellion at Culloden. In short, the first Earl had been a celebrated English war hero noted for his savagery in dealing with wild Scottish rebels.
However, his grandson, Henry—born to be the third Earl of Hadley—did not view Scots in quite the same fashion. So much so that, while on a hunting trip in the Highlands, Henry had abruptly married an impoverished local lass. (Lass was the kindest way Jane could describe the woman. Others used more colorful words, the politest of which were trollop and light-skirt.
)
Horrified at finding himself with a low-born, Scottish daughter-in-law, the old earl had cut Henry off without a farthing and never spoke to his son again. If it had been within his power, the old earl would have even barred Henry from eventually succeeding to the title. Fortunately, Fate listened, and Henry had died before his father.
So it was now Henry’s son, Andrew Langston—the Scottish lass’s offspring and therefore uneducated, crude, and completely unfit—who had become the third Earl of Hadley. The very sort of Scot the first Earl of Hadley had valiantly tried to exterminate.
Irony, indeed.
“They say Lord Hadley is a veritable savage.” Lady Whitcomb practically quivered in delicious excitement, her pinched face narrowing further. “He certainly doesn’t mix in polite company. There has never been a whisper of him at any ton event.” She arched her eyebrows before biting into a buttery biscuit. “My cousin, Lord Wanleigh, stated as much in his most recent letter.”
Lady Whitcomb’s cousin was the aging Marquess of Wanleigh—a fact no one was allowed to forget. Jane had never met the man, but she often wondered if he was as pompous in person as he sounded on paper.
“And why should the new Lord Hadley have mingled with Polite Society? Savages don’t attend balls.” Mrs. Burton pronounced her words with zealous conviction. Jane was quite sure fealty had been sworn with less fervor.
Peter angled himself fractionally closer to Jane, snorting again. “Of course savages attend balls,” he muttered under his breath.
Jane concentrated on not smiling.
Do not react.
She pressed her fingernail into her palm, pressing hard enough to feel a bite of pain but never breaking the skin.
