by Janet Aylmer
“You are most charitable, my dear,” said the Countess, “and I hope that Dominic will realise in time how much he has lost by his thoughtless behaviour.”
“Can I suggest,” said Aunt Lucy,” that it would be sensible, once the young couple has settled here, if Julia is seen in their company, to confirm that there is no ill feeling?”
“Of course,” said her host, “that is an excellent idea, and Julia will always be welcome here in any case, as a friend of us all.”
It was, Julia reflected on the return journey, one of the most extraordinary visits she had ever made. Aunt Lucy insisted on knowing all the details about the smuggling ring that she had not already heard, and they discussed how to present the news to Mama and Papa when they got back to Banford Hall.
Mama took the news that Dominic Brandon preferred a young woman from London to her own daughter very badly. She was reluctant to believe that the Earl and Countess had known little about the situation, and would have liked to blame Julia, although Aunt Lucy was having none of that.
Papa was more sanguine, despite saying nothing to Mama, since he knew very well that Julia would be quite delighted at the news.
Mama proved, however, to be nothing but adaptable. Over the next few days, Mama was often in Papa’s room, and Julia was sure that they were discussing her future prospects.
Despite the hope that Papa’s health would improve with Sir William Knighton’s advice, Mama still seemed determined that Julia’s marriage should not be delayed very much longer. Her younger sisters tried to cheer her by making various outlandish suggestions as to possible suitors living in the county, but Julia could not joke about the matter anymore. She could not know what influence Papa was having on Mama’s social ambitions for her daughter, so it was with considerable surprise that Julia heard her mother one morning telling Papa that “Julia should make a visit to Norton Place to see Jack Douglas, my dear.”
Julia demurred strongly at this, but Mama eventually persuaded Papa to write a note to Harry Douglas, asking if he would like to bring his son over to Banford Hall instead, as Papa was not yet strong enough to make the journey to visit his friend.
Julia quite expected the reply to this suggestion to be negative, as she believed that Jack Douglas was still in Leeds. She was therefore surprised and very unhappy that the message came back that Mr. Douglas would be delighted to visit Banford Hall in a few days’ time.
Harry Douglas arrived at the appointed time, but Jack was not with him. After the usual pleasantries, Mr. Douglas told Mama firmly that he wished to speak to Mr. Maitland in private. Mama took him up to Papa’s dressing room and came back almost purring with satisfaction, saying to her daughters, “I expect that Mr. Douglas wishes to discuss a financial settlement with your father.”
“I don’t see why he would,” said Harriet firmly, “since that should surely wait until Julia has said that she will agree to marry Jack Douglas.”
“Well, I think that Jack is a perfectly good catch. I liked him well enough,” said Sophie.
Julia said nothing, misery being piled upon misery. Her only hope seemed to be that Papa would not agree without consulting her first.
After about an hour, Mr. Douglas came down the stairs and into the drawing room, and spoke much more firmly than was his habit to Mama.
“I understand that you would favour my son marrying your eldest daughter, Mrs. Maitland?”
Mama looked rather taken aback by his blunt way of speaking, but replied, “Why yes, sir, of course, if Mr. Maitland is agreeable.”
No mention of what I might want! thought Julia. “Very well. I am leaving now, and Lewis—Mr. Maitland—wishes to speak to Miss Maitland in private. Good day, ma’am, ladies.”
He had hardly left the house than her mother was chivvying Julia to go and see her father. Aunt Lucy tried to protest, for she could see how angry her eldest niece was feeling, but Mama as usual brooked no opposition.
Julia walked slowly up the stairs, went into the dressing room, and shut the door. To her surprise, her father was looking very cheerful and sounded more decisive than usual.
“Now, Julia, I want you to do exactly as I tell you. Harry Douglas has invited Aunt Lucy to take you to Norton Place for a light luncheon tomorrow. Your mother would have liked to go with you, but I have not agreed to that.”
“What is the purpose of the visit?” said Julia resentfully.
“To consider whether you would accept the option that he is offering to you.”
“I do not need to go to Norton Place to tell you that. You really mean the option that Mama favours, and with the biggest financial settlement attached!”
“I suggest you wait and see what the offer may be. It could be trying out your Norfolk theories on his farm, perhaps?”
“I don’t feel like joking,” she replied.
“No, maybe not. When you return, we can have another private talk together if you wish.”
And Papa would tell her no more than that. Julia, not often given to total despair, spent the rest of the day in deepest gloom. She found it very difficult to believe that her father would be happy about an alliance with Jack Douglas, but what other options were there, and what else could he mean?
Before they left the following morning, Julia insisted in wrapping up La Passerelle and taking the package with her, for she was determined to return it to Mr. Douglas, whatever he or her aunt might say.
The journey was made in Aunt Lucy’s comfortable chaise and, as soon as Banford Hall was left behind, her aunt turned to Julia.
“My dear, I cannot believe that your father would have agreed to any alliance with Jack Douglas without your consent.”
“Then why would Harry Douglas have said what he did to my mother?”
Aunt Lucy opened her mouth to reply, then she paused and looked at Julia and shut it again without any words coming out. This was so unlike her aunt that Julia fixed her with a determined stare and said, “What were you going to say?”
“What I was going to say was that you should consider what Harry Douglas did not mention yesterday.”
“What was that?” Julia said resentfully.
“You must tell me, my dear, not I you.”
Julia was already so upset that this remark put her into a really bad temper and she turned her face away to look fixedly out of the carriage window, and she refused to say anything for the rest of the journey. If she had glanced at her aunt, she would have been even more infuriated to see that Aunt Lucy was smiling to herself.
In his usual jovial way, Harry Douglas was waiting to welcome them at Norton Place by the bottom of the steps leading to the front door. Julia had intended to thrust the package containing La Passerelle into his hands as soon as she arrived, but her aunt’s firm grasp of her arm prevented that. Julia found herself inside the house and walking beside Mr. Douglas along the corridor to the salon without having any option in the matter.
Once they were there, her host said to Aunt Lucy, “Have you said anything to Miss Maitland since yesterday?”
“No, sir,” said her aunt.
Julia looked from the one to the other, mystified.
“You will have heard your mother, Mrs. Maitland, say that she would favour my son marrying her eldest daughter, if your father agreed? I imagine that you were not happy about that?”
She stared at him, then replied, “No sir, I was not—no one seems to think of consulting me about my own future! I wish to return La Passerelle to you now.”
“Indeed. Now, please do as I ask. Take that package into the library, and leave it there if you wish. And when you are ready, come back and join us in the salon here.”
He spoke calmly, and Julia’s wrath was changing now to a dull ache of sadness, and she did not move.
“Julia,” said Aunt Lucy, “please do as Mr. Douglas requests.”
Julia glared at her and at last turned on her heel and walked along the corridor and into the library. She went across the room to the table by the window wh
ere she had seen the Book of Hours on her first visit to the house, and put the package down. She looked down and let her hand rest on the book for several moments, remembering that day. She raised her head and was about to turn to leave the room when she jumped in alarm, for there, reflected in the glass of the window, was a tall figure standing in the shadows beside the door, watching her. It was only when she turned to face him that he stepped forward into the light and she realised who it was.
He looked at her gravely. “My father tells me that you are very unlikely to want to marry his son, Miss Maitland. Does that apply to me, or are you willing to make an exception for a gentleman who, as you know, may never be able to waltz very well?”
Julia was at a loss for words. It had been such an emotional few hours since Mr. Douglas had visited Banford Hall to see her father, filled with sadness and fear for the future.
Kit Hatton walked slowly across the library towards her, then stopped just beyond touching distance and said, “I understand that Mr. Maitland and your mother are happy with the proposition that my father put to them yesterday, that you should marry me.”
It was only then that Julia realised what Aunt Lucy had meant in the carriage. Harry Douglas had asked Mama if she would favour his son marrying her eldest daughter. But he had not said which son.
“Come, my darling,” said Kit. “Everything really is all well for us both now.” And he opened his arms to her as she wept tears of joy and relief. She had dreamt so many times of kissing Kit Hatton, but the reality surpassed what she had hoped for, and needed, and wanted.
Eventually they turned their attention to more practical matters. Kit told Julia how Aunt Lucy and Harry Douglas had collaborated together to pass on the news about Dominic Brandon’s marriage, and Kit had set off immediately from Dorset to travel to Norton Place.
“About ten days ago, James Lindsay confronted his cousin Patrick about the connection with Dominic Brandon, and Patrick revealed many details about the distribution network for contraband that Dominic had been organising. Frank Jepson was caught by the revenue men a few days later as he landed with a large cargo of contraband at the bay near Morancourt. I wrote to your aunt, and she passed that information on to Emily Brandon, who told the earl and countess.”
It was quite half an hour later when there was a firm cough in the doorway, and they both turned around to see Harry Douglas and Aunt Lucy standing side by side, regarding them with expressions of amusement and affection.
“Well, my dear,” said her aunt, “are you still going to return La Passerelle to Mr. Douglas?”
“No, Aunt,” said Julia meekly, “for Kit has told me that the book belongs to both of us from now on.”
The History Behind The Story
Historical Fiction
The term “historical fiction” is usually applied to a novel set in any period between the Dark Ages (before Christ) and the years immediately following the Second World War. The Historical Novel Society was founded in England in 1997, at a time when historical fiction was rather less popular than it is now, by a group of enthusiasts who volunteered to review novels being published on historical subjects.
As a keen reader of historical novels, I joined the Society in its early days, and it has continued to prosper with more and more readers, authors, publishers, and agents from the UK, and more recently from the US, becoming members. Over 100 volunteers now review about 800 books that have been published in the English language each year for the Society. Harper Collins authors like Tasha Alexander, Suzannah Dunn, Nicole Galland, and Robin Maxwell have all pleased readers with their novels about particular times in history.
Regency Romances
Although I enjoy reading novels set in all different periods of history, I seem to return most frequently to those often described as Regency Romances, which are set in the early 1800s, a time originally immortalised by the English author Jane Austen, whose six novels remain as popular now as they were in the century when they were written. She surely would have been amazed by the “Jane Austen industry” which has prospered during the past few decades through books, TV series, and films, and in particular the enduring enthusiasm of readers for her most enigmatic hero. My novel Darcy’s Story was written following the considerable success of the BBC TV series based on her bestloved book Pride and Prejudice. More recently, Cassandra & Jane, by Jill Pitkeathley, has delighted Jane Austen’s fans.
At its simplest, a Regency Romance takes place in a “gilded cage,” where a handsome hero and an attractive heroine move through grand stately homes to their destiny, apparently unaffected by the realities of everyday life.
But to me, the Regency period in England was more interesting than that. Sufficiently remote from the present day to be intriguing, and yet recent enough for there to be numerous written records of the changing patterns of life at that time, one can see the beginnings of what came to be known as the industrial revolution, the introduction of more sophisticated financial systems and the beginnings of a more emancipated life for educated women, all set against the backdrop of the war with Napoléon in the early years of the nineteenth century.
So the author of a Regency Romance has a choice. One is to take the simple route in developing the story within a “gilded cage,” and there are very many successful examples of that approach. The other option, and my preference, is to set the novel in a more realistic context, leading the reader through the way the world is changing around the characters as they approach their destiny.
The interaction between the different personalities in a family holds a particular interest for me. In my novel, the middle daughter, Sophie Maitland, took after her mother, Olivia, in being determined and irrepressible, running at everything in life at full-tilt, and could be very thoughtless. Her elder sister, Julia, also inherited her mother’s determination, but otherwise was a much calmer person, like her father, as well as being sympathetic and practical. The ideal “partners in life” for each of the sisters are therefore very different, and their stories are likely to develop accordingly. Where a personality is less clear-cut, as with the youngest sister, Harriet Maitland, there may appear to be more options, although most of her character would already have been formed when she was much younger.
Life in the Early 1800s
During the Regency period, the divisions between social classes began to ease, although the life of titled families and the gentry was still controlled by rigid formalities. Improved methods of cultivation, husbandry, and the use of simple machinery were pioneered by wealthy farmers such as Thomas Coke of Norfolk, which led to higher crop yields, healthier animals, and increased incomes for the landed gentry. The extra food produced also allowed for a significant growth in the country’s population.
The rise in the size of the population in England by the early 1800s provided not only more young men and women to work in the new factories and mills, especially in the north of England, but also a greater number of people available to be servants in the wealthier households. Although they were sometimes abused by their employers, recent research confirms that servants working in stately homes were likely to live much longer than if they had been employed in factories or remained in a farming job in the countryside.
In the grandest families, such as the Brandons in my novel, the children might well have much closer emotional ties with the servants who looked after them than they did with their parents, who they might have seen very rarely. That seems to have been the situation for Dominic Brandon and Annette Labonne, who had been a nurse to the two sons of the Earl and Countess of Cressborough.
Indeed, servants often knew a great deal about what was happening in the privacy of the household. In my novel, Julia Maitland’s widowed aunt, Mrs. Lucy Harrison, sends her maid Martha away when they travel back to Julia’s home in Derbyshire, so that she cannot tell Julia’s family anything about what happened during their stay in Dorset with Mr. Hatton.
It is not difficult to see why a wealthy young man like Dominic Br
andon, who might not know his parents very well, would decide that he did not want to live at home in the country with them. He preferred to waste away his time in London with his friends, trying to live on his allowance from the Earl whilst gambling, drinking, and pursuing young women of the commoner sort, especially since that was the example that had been set by his father.
However, not everyone was like Kit Douglas in my book or Jane Austen’s brother Edward in real life, hoping to inherit the house and estate of a wealthy and childless relative. Many young gentlemen served in the army or navy, at least for a few years. The elder son of a landed family could expect to inherit the estate, but his younger brothers might need to continue to remain in the army or navy or elsewhere in the longer term. If they did not choose a military or naval life, the Church, or, to a lesser extent, the law were amongst the few respectable options for employment open to them. But, however socially acceptable an occupation, a young man serving in the army or Royal Navy risked injury during the war with Napoléon, as was the case with Kit Douglas, or at worst might be killed, as happened to Julia Maitland’s elder brother, David, and Sir James Lindsay, the father of Kit’s friend.
The choices available to young ladies of quality were much more limited. If they were wealthy with a handsome dowry or the sole heiress to a great estate, they were not likely to lack suitors keen to marry them. But when, as in the case of the Maitland sisters, the family estate was likely to pass to a distant relation on the death of a father or brother, the situation could be much more precarious. A very attractive young woman, such as Jane or Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, might be sought-after because of her looks, but the lack of a respectable dowry could mean that the only viable options for a young girl might be to become a dependant helping the family in the home of a wealthy relation, or to go and work as a governess to the children of another family.