The Heart of a Bluestocking

by Renée Dahlia

  ‘Let’s take a seat over here, Lord Dalhinge.’ Claire spoke deliberately loud so that her voice rang clear over the room and several heads twisted towards them. Sanjay held out his arm. She lifted her chin, laid her hand on his forearm, and let him walk her to the same seat she’d sat at on the day she’d met Ravi. That day, her stomach had churned with worry for her father. Today, her body stayed calm, only a slight buzz in her pulse anticipating their success. She sat down, as Ravi placed his glasses on his nose, joking with the officer behind the counter. He left with the officer, and she turned to speak to Sanjay, but blinked as she caught an unexpected sight out of the corner of her eye. She leapt up.

  ‘Wil? But I thought …’ she said as she raced towards her brother who had just walked in the entrance door.

  ‘The errant miscreant arrives late, as usual.’ Sanjay’s boots rang on the wooden floor as he marched off to follow Ravi. Wil rolled his eyes.

  ‘Claire,’ he said. In warning, or in welcome. She couldn’t tell.

  ‘Wil. Take care. Dalhinge—’ She couldn’t say it publicly. He cares for you.

  ‘—He doesn’t matter. It’s more important to find out who the Yard has arrested in my place,’ he said.

  ‘Yes.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Father received a note, presumably the same one you got? A courtesy from an Officer Wedsley. I arrived home shortly afterwards. Who is Officer Wedsley?’

  ‘He has been investigating the Swainright Hunt Scandal. He’s the officer who arrested Father.’

  ‘And now he’s arrested me? Does he have a vendetta against our family?’ asked Wil. Claire covered her mouth with her hand and gasped.

  ‘I know who Wedsley arrested. Thackery.’ Thackery who, like Wil, looks just like Mother. She huffed. Stepmother. Claire dropped her hand, clenching it into a fist at her side. What a slimy toad.

  ‘That can’t be right. Mother admitted that he is her son—’ Wil’s blue eyes flashed, his happy-go-lucky mask gone.

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘He told me. And he’s already read the banns. It’s obvious he wants marriage with me to cement his control of the company,’ she said.

  ‘I assumed you’d marry Mr Howick, although that would make you the most unusual couple in London. A half-Indian peer and his doctor wife.’ Wil grinned.

  Claire shook her head. ‘We’d only be unusual in the upper circles of society, and I don’t intend to spend much time with the peerage.’

  ‘You may not be able to avoid it if Father gets his way and puts you in charge.’

  ‘I don’t want it. And the business can’t sustain it.’

  ‘You don’t? That changes things.’ Wil looked at her, a deep furrow between his eyes.

  ‘Let’s talk about it later. You haven’t spoken to Father about this for a long time, not since I came back from Amsterdam.’

  ‘Because I was tired of hearing about how you were more talented, more qualified, and so on.’

  ‘So why now?’

  ‘Someone told me I need to grow up. Act like a man, instead of a boy playing with life.’ Wil stared at the door that Sanjay had left through, and waved his hand in the air. ‘Never mind that. I’m glad I spoke to Father. He admitted his forgetfulness to me. He doesn’t remember what he promised Thackery. The uncertainty doesn’t suit him.’

  ‘I should have seen it earlier than today.’ Claire swayed on her feet, and clutched her brother’s arms. ‘He has called me Rachel twice this week,’ she said, resting her head against the wooden wall. Was Father getting her confused with her birth mother because they looked similar? It had to be something more sinister. One of the policemen entered the front door, carrying a bowl of soup, his evening meal, presumably.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ asked Wil. Pea and ham soup scents wafted in the air with an undercurrent of garlic. Claire gasped.

  ‘That’s it! Why didn’t I see it before? Father’s illness. Headaches, confusion, the smell of garlic on his breath. That’s low level arsenic poisoning. Father is being poisoned!’ If there was a cure for arsenic poisoning, she would find it. There must be something in medical literature, somewhere.

  ‘Poison! But who would do that?’ Wil leapt to his feet, his hands spread before him.

  ‘Mother?’ she said. They’d both grown up with Mrs Carlingford as a mother figure, she influenced them both, it was a bond that wouldn’t go away simply with her newly found parentage.

  ‘Holy balls. Mother planned this takeover together with Thackery.’ Wil’s shocked voice croaked. ‘It’s the only option that makes sense. She would have access to all the business information he’d need to succeed.’

  ‘Oh my word. It’s all about the company, and the money. Because she’s his second wife, she might not get the company if Father is dead. It’d likely come to me. That’s why Mother needs me to marry Thackery—so they can have everything. And if you are in jail, you can’t contest his will.’ Claire’s face drained of colour as she figured it all out.

  Wil frowned. ‘There is one thing I still don’t understand though. Who has been arrested in my place?’

  ‘I told you. I’m guessing it’s Thackery.’

  ‘But why? If he’s behind this whole scam, he wouldn’t make an error when it’s all about to fall into place.’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s only a guess.’ She shrugged, not liking the uncertain heaviness in her stomach.

  ‘A good one.’ Ravi walked into the foyer with Officer Wedsley and Sanjay. The tension in her body lessened as he walked towards her, tall, confident, at ease in these surroundings.

  ‘Excuse me?’ she said.

  ‘Thackery posed as young Mr Carlingford here.’ Officer Wedsley waved in the direction of Wil. ‘I went to the offices of both bookies involved to view the settling ledger. When I arrived at the office of Hickman, another man had also demanded to see the settling ledger for the Swainright meeting. We arrested him, still thinking he was Mr Carlingford, even though the ledger stated the bets were against the account of a Mr Thackery.’

  ‘Thackery must have realised that he’d used his own account and was trying to get rid of the evidence,’ said Ravi.

  ‘Nice work, Wedsley. It must have been a shock to him to be under arrest, when he was simply laying a trail against me. No wonder he used my name,’ said Wil.

  Ravi smiled, a loose natural smile that warmed Claire all the way through.

  ‘Thank you. Until Lord Dalhinge mentioned that you were here, I believed I had the right man. Thackery, if that is his name, is very convincing in his role as you. He even looks rather similar to you,’ said Wedsley.

  ‘Yes. About that—’ started Wil. A satisfying warmth filled her body. Her life was enriched by having these three men, Wil, Sanjay, and especially Ravi, in her life.

  ‘Perhaps you could make a statement to Wedsley. Tell him everything we’ve discussed. Mr Howick and I are expected elsewhere soon,’ said Claire. The urge to kiss Ravi made her lips tingle with impatience. Let the men sort out the details. She had something much better to do.

  ‘I do have many questions,’ said Wedsley. Wil nodded briefly to Claire, and the two men left the foyer. Claire breathed in deep, easing her breath out again.

  ‘Where do we have to be?’ asked Ravi.

  She smiled slowly in anticipation. ‘Bed. I believe Dalhinge requires an heir.’

  ‘Minx. No wonder I love you.’ Ravi kissed her full on the lips. She relaxed into the kiss, the Yard’s foyer faded away as she wrapped her arms around him. His taste, rich, intoxicating, exploded on her tongue. Applause broke out around them, intruding in.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered against his cheek, as the gaze of everyone in the room prickled at her heated skin.

  ‘My bold, daring jaaneman, the love of my life,’ said Ravi. She floated, her embarrassment at the bold public display rushing away to be replaced with an enduring satisfaction. She was loved, and she loved in return. Together, t
hey could make the world a better place. Not just for themselves, but for their daughters, and for all the other people who craved equality.

  Author Note

  The history of the British in India noted in this novel comes from a variety of sources, however, a book that stood out is An Era of Darkness by Shashi Tharoor. I also recommend the novel These Days, by Sunil Gangopadhyay, set in the 1857 Uprising.

  Minor changes to history—The betting scam is based on the Trodmore Hunt Scam which occurred on the Monday Bank Holiday at the start of September in 1889. My fictional Swainright scheme occurs one year prior. The murder of Annie Chapman on the 8th of September 1888 was the second murder attributed to Jack the Ripper. Technically, he wasn’t named the Ripper until September 27 when the first of his letters arrived, but for the sake of drama, I’ve included the name earlier to line up with the gambling scam. He would next strike on 30th September, killing two women in less than an hour. This occurs slightly after the timeline of this book concludes, with the final Whitechapel victim on 9 November. Many other murders were also attributed to him, and a multitude of theories abound.

  The coffee analogy I’ve used is based on the Australian First Nations proverb ‘Aboriginality is like tea—no matter how much milk and sugar you add, it’s still tea.’

  Dalhinge’s ‘unusual household’ is not unusual because it includes a diverse range of people. London has always been a melting pot of cultures during its long history. Dalhinge’s household is unusual because it is a safe place where people are not judged for qualities they can’t help such as skin colour, religion, and sexuality. I’ve based it on my local community which is an amazing inclusive place. I’d love to think that this inclusive environment will provide the leaders of the next generation—people who see that we have more in common with each other than our differences.

  The books in Woodleyville’s legal offices are real. I found them on a rare book website, and the Criminal History one was published in three volumes in 1883 and written by James Fitzjames Stephen.

  The Pinnard Horn, originally called the fetoscope, is a type of stethoscope used to listen to a foetus. It was invented in 1895, too late for Claire to use during Harriet’s twin birth. She would have had to rely on touch alone, and Pinnard published an important paper on this issue (abdominal palpation in pregnancy) in 1878, which Claire would have read and understood.

  Letterhead, or billhead as it was originally called, started to be popular when printing presses improved in the 1860s. Some great examples are here: https://www.saxoprint.co.uk/blog/history-of-stationery/

  Lord Dalhinge’s estate Belfington in Lincolnshire is loosely based on Belton House. The train station in the book, Kirkstead, was a real place but is further north than Grantham (the closest train station to Belton House). Kirkstead was re-named Woodhall Junction in 1922, and the station was closed in 1971, and demolished in 1980.

  Until 1911, the House of Lords had the power to veto any law passed in the House of Commons. After this, the Lords could only delay most bills by two years, not veto them. This was reduced to one year in 1949.

  Margaret Oliphant was a prolific writer in the Victoria era, producing 120 works (including short stories and non-fiction). http://victorianfictionresearchguides.org/vfrgs/margaret-oliphant/

  Arsenic poisoning was often called ‘inheritance powder’ because it gained a reputation as the poison of choice for heirs needing to gain quicker access to their inheritance. In large doses, the symptoms are very similar to cholera, and in smaller doses, symptoms are confusion, headaches, drowsiness, and skin and breath that smells like garlic.

  Sanjay means victorious or triumphant. It is the name of a royal official in the Hindu epic the ‘Mahabharata’. Ravichandran has the meaning noted in the book. Another name with a similar meaning is Aadityakumar (nickname Aadi) which was the second choice for Ravi. It means Lord of the Sun and was often given to members of the Royal families.

  Hai bhagwan! Mujhe rok lo translates to ‘Oh God please stop me or stop these thoughts’. Jaaneman means ‘my lady, the love of my life’.

  Thanks for reading The Heart of A Bluestocking. I hope you enjoyed it.

  If you’d like to know more about me, my books, or to connect with me online, you can visit my webpage reneedahlia.com, follow me on Twitter @dekabat, or like my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/reneedahliawriter/

  You can also follow me through my publisher’s page here www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Reviews can help readers find books, and I am grateful for all honest reviews. Thank you for taking the time to let others know what you’ve read, and what you thought.

  You’ve just read a book in my Bluestocking series. The other books in this series are To Charm a Bluestocking, and In Pursuit of a Bluestocking.

  This book was published by Escape Publishing. If you’d like to sample some more great books from my fellow Escape Artists, please turn the page.

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  1887: Too tall, too shy and too bookish for England, Lady Josephine moves to Holland to become one of the world’s first female doctors. With only one semester left, she has all but completed her studies when a power-hungry professor, intent on marrying her for her political connections, threatens to prevent her graduation. Together with the other Bluestockings, female comrades-in-study, she comes up with a daring, if somewhat unorthodox plan: acquire a fake fiancé to provide the protection and serenity she needs to pass her final exams.

  But when her father sends her Lord Nicholas St. George, he is too much of everything: too handsome, too charming, too tall and too broad and too distracting for Josephine’s peace of mind. She needed someone to keep her professor at bay, not keep her from her work with temptations of long walks, laughing, and languorous kisses.

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  In Pursuit of a Bluestocking

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  Marie had the perfect life plan: she would satisfy her father’s ambition by graduating as one of the first female doctors in Europe, and she would satisfy her mother’s ambition by marrying a very suitable fiancé in a grandiose society ceremony. Only weeks away from completing the former, Marie is mere days away from achieving the latter. But her whole life is thrown into chaos when her fiancé dies, mysteriously returns, and then is shot and killed, and Marie risks her own reputation to save the life of the man falsely accused of the murder.

  Gordon, Lord Stanmore, finally tracks down the conman who stole from his estate, only to find himself embroiled in a murder plot. The woman he rescues offers to rescue him in return, by marrying him and providing an alibi. Gordon’s ready agreement to the scheme grows the more time he spends with his new wife. Her wit, her intelligence, her calm, her charm: Gordon finds himself more and more enchanted with this woman he met by mistake. But as the clues to the identity of the murderer start to align with the clues to the thief, they reveal a more elaborate scheme than he could have imagined, and though he might desire Marie, Gordon is unsure if he can trust her.

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de Waare won’t let her then the least he can do is clear her name. Except that living with the lively, intelligent Marina isn’t as simple as he’d have thought. Not only does she drive him mad, she starts to make him human… then his own past turns up just as hers explodes, and it will take everything he has to get them through it.

  Is there any hope that he can win Marina too?

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  ISBN: 9781489264626

  Title: The Heart of a Bluestocking

  Copyright © 2018 by RENÉE DAHLIA

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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