by Nichole Van
In 1819 when this novel begins, Scotland was finally emerging from generations of English dominion. After being lost for 111 years, the Scottish Crown Jewels—the Honours of Scotland—had been found in 1818 by Sir Walter Scott. (The event resulted in Scott receiving that ‘Sir’ in front of his name.) In 1822, the newly crowned King George IV, visited Edinburgh. These two events ignited what would become the Victorian fascination with all things Scottish.
Much of our modern-day opinions on Scotland are filtered through that Victorian obsession. Victorians romanticized the savage Highlander and took it upon themselves to assign tartan patterns to every clan. The list goes on and on. I’ve tried to strip away the Victorian lens and give the gist of Scottish/English relations at the beginning of the nineteenth century, which were hardly as amicable.
Of course, Victorian perceptions did not end with Scotland. Rituals surrounding mourning the dead were decidedly more lax during the earlier Regency era. The strong mourning customs we normally think of—years of endless black dresses and heavy veils—only came into existence during Queen Victoria’s reign after the death of her husband, Prince Albert. In Suffering the Scot, I’ve tried to capture mourning customs per the time period.
Along those same lines, we often impose later Victorian morality onto earlier times. So, for example, Lady Jane jaunts about everywhere without a chaperone. In the later Victorian era, such behavior would be sternly forbidden. However, a quick survey of earlier literature and visual prints, reveals that such things were considered acceptable before about 1830. A study of Jane Austen shows that genteel women regularly traveled short distances from their homes without any escort. They also drove with unmarried men, as long as the carriage was open top, like a phaeton or curricle.
The one thing that Victorians didn’t change is a Burns Supper. Celebrating the birthday of Robert Burns on January 25th began in 1801 and has never stopped. The format of the evening as described in the book has remained unaltered for over 200 years. In fact, I was drafting and researching that section of the book in early January of 2019 and had a long laugh when a Scottish friend asked my husband and me to give the Ode to the Lasses and the Lass’s Reply for a Burns Supper. Of course, we said, “Yes,” (though how well we did is a matter of debate, haha). If you have never attended a Burns Supper, I strongly suggest checking one out. Most cities around the world will have a band of Scots somewhere eating haggis and singing ‘Old Lang Syne’ around January 25th.
Prison hulks were very much as described in the book. They were an effective way to relieve over-crowding in land-based prisons and provided a ready-supply of cheap labor to repair harbors. Many of the large ships-of-the-line from the Napoleonic Wars—the flagships of the time—ended their lives anchored on the Thames as prison hulks.
There are many other little snippets of history in the story. Scientific expeditions were a huge thing, most being funded by governments (like that of Darwin and HMS Beagle), but there were privately-funded ventures, as well.
Slavery did continue unabated even after being outlawed in the Atlantic. The South Pacific, in particular, became a hotbed for conscripting labor during the 1850s and 1860s.
Scotland, specifically Glasgow and the Firth of Clyde, was the first to launch a commercial passenger steamboat service in 1813. In fact, much of the Industrial Revolution began in Glasgow, Edinburgh, and the surrounding areas.
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 Robert Burns, 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. Rebecca, in particular, spent so many hours helping me sort through plot problems, all while pregnant and then sleeplessly dealing with a newborn baby. Thank you. And a shout-out to Julie Frederick for her keen observations.
And, finally, thank you to Andrew, Austenne, Kian, and Dave for your endless patience and support. I particularly appreciate Andrew putting on a great kilt and being my cover model for my hero, Andrew. I love you all.
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.
Suffering the Scot begins with an epigraph from Robert Burns:
But to see her was to love her,
Love but her, and love forever.
Jane and Andrew do not fall instantly in love, so why do you think the author still chose to use that particular Robert Burns excerpt as the epigraph? Is Burns talking about physical sight and physical beauty, or is he alluding to something deeper?
Continuing on with the epigraph above, what does it mean to love someone? Can anyone truly love someone without ‘seeing’ them fully? When thinking of the book, what does that mean in a romantic relationship? A familial one?
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?
Along those same lines, does Scotland and the Scottish language, as portrayed in the book, reflect your own previous understanding or preconceived ideas about the country? Why or why not?
The first half of the book strongly addresses issues of stereotyping based on one’s culture and heritage. Did you feel that the characterizations were accurate? Why or why not? Have you experienced something similar within your own life? If so, what?
Along with that, how can we acknowledge and appreciate differences while still respecting our own heritage? Is it helpful to admit fault and weaknesses in our own culture/heritage/lifestyle and learn from others? Why or why not?
How do the characters’ assumptions and opinions change throughout the book? Did you feel those changes were believable? Why or why not?
Did you agree with how the love story progressed? Did you truly feel like Andrew and Jane had come to genuinely love each other? Why or why not?
Throughout the story, Jane creates semi-circular prints in her palm as a coping mechanism. How did the author morph and change this imagery as the story went on? Have you ever used a similar coping mechanism in your own life?
Did you suspect the person who was eventually revealed to have been the instigator of Jamie’s death? How did you feel about that reveal?
The last several chapters of the book explore ideas of justice and mercy. Did you agree or disagree with the opinions the characters shared regarding the situation? Do you feel the situation resolved itself satisfactorily? Should the characters have had more or less mercy toward the villain? Why or why not?
Other Books by Nichole Van
Brotherhood of the Black Tartan
Suffering the Scot
Romancing the Rake (Rafe's story, coming Fall 2019)
Other Regency Romances
Seeing Miss Heartstone
Vingt-et-Un | Twenty-one (a Regency novella included in the Falling for a Duke 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 o
f Intertwine.
The Brothers Maledetti
Lovers & Madmen
Gladly Beyond
Love’s Shadow
Lightning Struck
A Madness Most Discreet
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.
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
Suffering the Scot © 2019 by Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Cover design © Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Interior design © Nichole Van Valkenburgh
Published by Fiorenza Publishing
Kindle Digital Edition 1.0
Suffering the Scot 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: 978-1-949863-02-4
Turn the page for a preview of
Seeing Miss Heartstone
A Regency Romance
A Whitney Award Finalist 2018
Seeing Miss Heartstone
A Regency Romance
Chapter One
. . . My lord, news of your current financial pressures has reached many ears. I know of an interested party who would be honored to discuss a proposed joint venture. They have asked to meet you along the Long Water in Hyde Park tomorrow morning, where they shall endeavor to lay out the particulars of their proposal . . .
—excerpt from an unsigned letter posted to Lord Blake
In retrospect, Miss Arabella Heartstone had three regrets about ‘The Incident.’
She should not have worn her green, wool cloak with the fox fur collar, as Hyde Park was warmer than expected that morning.
She should not have instructed her chaperone, Miss Anne Rutger, to remain politely out of earshot.
And she probably should not have proposed marriage to the Marquess of Blake.
“P-pardon?” Lord Blake lifted a quizzical eyebrow, standing straight and tall, rimmed in the morning sunlight bouncing off the Long Water behind him. A gentle breeze wound through the surrounding trees, rustling newly-grown, green leaves. “Would . . . would you mind repeating that last phrase? I fear I did not hear you correctly.”
Belle straightened her shoulders, clasped her trembling hands together, and sternly ordered her thumping heart to Cease this racket.
Swallowing, she restated her request. “After much consideration, my lord, I feel a marriage between you and myself would be prudent.”
Lord Blake stared at her, blinking over and over. Belle was unsure if his reaction denoted surprise or was simply the result of the dazzling sunlight off the water behind her.
Silence.
Birds twittered. Branches creaked. Leaves rustled.
Eternities passed. Millennia ended and were reborn.
Belle gritted her teeth, desperate to bolster her flagging confidence. You are strong and courageous. You can do this.
In the past, her passivity over the Marriage Matter had nearly ended in disaster. So, Belle had set her sights on a more forthright course—propose marriage herself. Yes, she struggled to talk with people and preferred anonymity to attention, but her current situation was critical.
She needed a husband. Decidedly. Desperately. Immediately. As in . . . yesterday would not have been soon enough.
At the moment, however, her mental encouragement barely managed to convince the swarming butterflies in her stomach to not free her breakfast along with themselves. Casting up her accounts all over his lordship’s dusty Hessian boots would hardly nurture his romantic interest.
At last, Lord Blake stirred, pulling a folded letter from his overcoat. He stared at it, eyebrows drawing down, a sharp “V” appearing above his nose.
“You sent me this message, asking to meet me here?” He flapped the letter in her direction.
“Yes.” Belle bit down on her lip and darted a glance behind at her companion. Miss Rutger stood a solid thirty yards off, studiously facing the Long Water. “Well . . . uhm . . . in all truthfulness, Miss Rutger wrote the letter.”
Lord Blake raised his eyebrows, clearly uncaring of the minutiae involved. “So you are not a gentleman interested in my business venture in the East Indies?” He unfolded the letter, reading from it. “‘I know of an interested party who would be honored to discuss a proposed joint venture. They have asked to meet you along the Long Water,’ et cetera. This ‘interested party’ is yourself?” He returned the letter to his pocket.
“Yes, my lord.” Belle commanded her feet to hold still and not bounce up and down—the bouncing being yet another effect of those dratted nervous butterflies.
Lord Blake’s brows rose further. “And you are offering . . . marriage?”
“Yes, my lord,” Belle repeated, but she had to clarify the point. Apparently, she had no issue with being thought forward and brazen, but heaven forbid Lord Blake imagine her a liar, too. “Though . . . I am proposing a joint endeavor.”
“Indeed,” he paused. “Marriage usually implies as much.”
Lord Blake shuffled a Hessian-booted foot and clasped his hands behind his back. A corner of his mouth twitched.
Was the man . . . amused? If so, was that good? Or bad?
And at this point, did it matter?
Belle soldiered on. “There would be significant advantages to both of us with such a match.”
More silence. An errant draft of wind
tugged at his coat.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Miss . . .” His voice trailed off.
“Heartstone. Miss Arabella Heartstone.”
“I see.” He removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. “And why have we not met in more . . . uh . . . typical circumstances? A ball, perhaps? A dinner party where we could be properly introduced and engage in conversation about the weather and the latest bonnet fashions before leaping straight to marriage?”
“Oh.” It was Belle’s turn to blink, absorbing his words. Oh dear. “We have met, my lord. We were introduced at Lord Pemberley’s musicale last month. We did discuss the weather, but not bonnets or . . . uhm . . . marriage.”
She hadn’t expected him to recall everything, but to not even recognize her? To not remember their brief conversation—
“How do you do, Miss Heartstone? It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Lord Blake bowed.
“The pleasure is all mine, my lord.” Belle curtsied. “Lovely weather we’re having.”
“Indeed, we are.”
It did not bode well.
The butterflies rushed upward, eager for escape.
“Right.” Blake let out a gusting breath and shook his head, sending his hair tumbling across his forehead. The morning sun turned it into molten shades of deep amber, curling softly over his ears.
Lean and several inches taller than her own average height, Lord Blake was not classically handsome, she supposed. His straight nose, square jaw, and high forehead were all too exaggerated for classical handsomeness.