by Nichole Van
“Consider it a wedding gift,” Hadley said. “I would not see one of my closest friends vilified, particularly if there is anything I can do about it.”
Of course, the highest sticklers—Lady Hadley’s high-handed brother, the Duke of Montacute, for example—would forever shun Violet for her choice of husband.
But as Jane dryly put it, “I do believe we can all lead happy and productive lives without the Duke of Montacute’s approval. In fact, I daresay a fulfilled life is easier to obtain without such people in it.”
Jane had, indeed, agreed to sponsor Aster and Rose. She was ecstatic to help and considered the timing fortunate, as she would have recovered from her confinement in time to prepare the twins for presentation at Court. Jane’s assistance had greatly eased Violet’s fears for her sisters’ future.
Though Violet felt it only fair to warn Jane. “My sisters can be somewhat . . . high-spirited.”
“If by high-spirited, you mean forthright and plucky,” Jane had laughed, “then I think we will get along quite well indeed. I appreciate young women who are not afraid to speak their minds.”
As for the Manna Loan, Violet had compromised. Instead of selling the London townhouse, she mortgaged it. And then immediately let the house to a wealthy banker. The rents collected would pay the mortgage in five-years’ time, after which they could retake possession of the townhouse. It was a small sacrifice, in the end. A way to hold on to a place that held so many happy memories but still meet the earldom’s financial needs.
For herself, Violet had found immense satisfaction in managing her own lands. Helping tenants and discussing problems and solutions with her stewards had given her day-to-day interactions deeper meaning.
Violet knew that Ewan was cognizant of his own future. He had already repainted his lost fire canvas, and in Violet’s estimation, this second version was even more powerful than the first. It was as if the first had abruptly become a practice sketch for the true masterpiece.
Ewan had no intention of showing the painting before next year’s Royal Exhibition, but Sir Joshua had already arranged for a few elite members of the Royal Academy to see it. Her uncle had disclosed that he intended to put forth Ewan’s name for acceptance into the Academy as an official member. Sir Joshua had every confidence Ewan would be admitted.
The only cloud of gloom to mar their happiness were concerns over Kieran. They had been unable to locate him. But Lord Hadley was confident his Runner would turn up leads.
For now, they could do nothing but wait.
And celebrate the happiness life had granted them.
“Ready tae face your admirers, Lady Kildrum?” Ewan asked, extending his arm.
Violet smiled with a shake of her head. “You know I prefer it when you call me Mrs. Campbell. I like the possessive sound of it. That you and I are united together.”
“Ah, mo chriodhe.” He bent to kiss her, as she threaded her hand through his elbow. “We are forever united. Ye’ve chosen me, lass. Ye cannae take it back now.”
She laughed in earnest, giving him another lingering kiss. “I love you, Ewan Campbell.”
“And I you, Violet Campbell.” He straightened upright. “Now, shall we go set the world afire?”
She tightened her hold on his arm and waved her free hand. “Lead the way.”
Author's Note
As usual, writing a Regency-era romance is an endless mix of historical fact and imaginative adaptation. I will attempt to separate the two for you here, though be warned, there are major spoilers ahead if you have not yet finished reading Loving a Lady. Consider yourself forewarned.
Yes, women could inherit an aristocratic title in their own right. Though rare, there are a number of peerages in the United Kingdom that can pass through the female line if there are no male heirs. Whether or not this occurs is entirely dependent on the language which initially created the title.
But even if a woman could inherit her father’s (or mother’s) title, the rules varied. In England, all female heirs were considered equal (regardless of birth order). As a title cannot be divided between sisters, if there was more than one female heir, the title would go into abeyance (i.e. become dormant) until a clear heir surfaced in subsequent generations.
The Peerage of Scotland had no such rules. If allowed, a Scottish title could pass to the eldest daughter in the absence of a male heir. Consequently, women inherited Scottish titles with some frequency. The situation in Loving a Lady is based on historical fact. The Earls of Orkney went three generations without a single male heir being born, the title passing from mother to daughter over and over.
Tacks and tacksmen were another unique Scottish feature. The practice of tacks and tacksmen was very much on the wane in 1820, but parts of the Highlands still retained the social structure, particularly in the area north of Aberdeen (where this book is set).
The whole system was medieval in its origin. Historically, a tacksman functioned like an English knight to his lord. The knight raised men for the earl or duke, and in return, the lord granted the knight lands to manage. Similarly, the tacksmen would raise soldiers for a laird when called upon.
In Scotland, lairds leased tacks of their lands to tacksmen (usually younger sons or other relatives) who then, in turn, managed the tenants and their farms directly. The tacksman was a middleman between the laird and his people, the administrator who collected rents and saw to repairs. And, when called upon, raised soldiers for his laird.
By the time of the final Jacobite uprising in the 1740s, tacksmen were on the wane. This made it difficult for some nobles (the Duke of Argyll comes to mind) to muster the soldiers necessary for the war with the English. Some contend that this contributed to the downfall of the Scottish army. Regardless, after the Battle of Culloden, tacksmen continued to disappear from the Highlands.
I find the whole system of tacks fascinating and yet difficult to explain.
Tacks worked much like leasing a car today. A tacksman would pay a fee (a grassum) to assume the lease of the land for a specified period of time (usually 19 years, which is bizarrely specific). The tacksman would then manage the land as if it were his own, collecting the tenant rents, seeing to repairs, etc. Each year, he would pay a tack-duty or basically an on-going payment to maintain his lease. (Again, just like we do today when leasing a car.) At the end of the term of the lease, the tack reverted to the original landowner, who could then lease the tack anew.
In society, tacksmen were considered gentlemen and belonged to the gentry class, one of the few groups to bridge the gap between the lower classes and the aristocracy in Scotland.
The year 1816 is generally referred to as the Year without a Summer. The entire northern hemisphere experienced cold temperatures, frosts, and even snow throughout the summer months. The gloomy weather inspired Mary Shelley to write Frankenstein. But these same factors led to devastating food shortages. Modernly, we know this drop in temperature was the result of the massive eruption of Mt. Tambora in April 1815. The ash from the volcano spread around the globe, cooling temperatures and interrupting weather patterns.
Prizefighting was every whit as popular as described. In fact, many claim the era from 1800 to 1820 was the Golden Age of bare-knuckle boxing. The sport with its ardent followers (often called the Fancy) was certainly at its zenith. Boxiana, a journal during the era written and published by Pierce Egan, celebrated all things related to prizefighting and the Fancy. Prizefighting in and of itself was not illegal (apparently the government didn’t care if two people decided to beat themselves bloody), but the gathering of large crowds to watch such fights was deemed dangerous and an act of unlawful assembly. Consequently, most fights were held in rural locations outside the ready oversight of a magistrate. That said, there were indoor locations in London (like Five Courts) that regularly held prizefighting matches.
Boxing champions and renowned artists, along with famous actors and opera singers, were the sports heroes and celebrities of their day. They would dine with ki
ngs even though they were of lower birth. It was a way someone could (sort of) climb the social ladder.
As for the Royal Academy and its annual Exhibition, they are as described. That said, I did adjust the timeline of the annual exhibition to fit my own needs. In the book, I have the deadline set as sometime in late June with the actual exhibition beginning in August (or so). In reality, entries to the Exhibition would normally be submitted in March for display beginning in May and running through August. Also, John Constable’s The Haywain was selected for the 1821 exhibition, not 1819 (as I state in the book). When considering which art works to reference in the book, I wished to choose pieces that readers might recognize, hence why I fudged the date of The Haywain.
Even in 1820, the living conditions among the lower classes west of Inverness and the Great Glen were appalling and had not changed much in thousands of years. Blackhouses (which were not, in fact, black but simply bare stone) were a single-story relic of a much earlier time. Generally, they were two room dwellings—one room for people and the other for animals. They featured an open fire in the center of the “people” room, the smoke filtering up through the thatched roof overhead. Beds were built into large wooden boxes in the room, enclosing the inhabitants while they slept. Blackhouses are still easily seen today along the north-west coast of Scotland and particularly in the Western Isles.
White-houses, which took their name from the white lime coating their exterior, were a more “modern” adaptation of the early 1800s. They were usually two-stories and featured a fireplace and chimney at each end of the house. Today, white-houses are everywhere in Scotland and are seen as a typical form of traditional architecture.
Traveling in 1820, particularly into the Highlands, was a fraught endeavor. Roads north of Edinburgh and Glasgow, in particular, were not well-maintained. In fact, the government hadn’t even built any roads west of the Great Glen in 1820. (The Great Glen is a series of valleys that runs in a straight line from Inverness in the north to Fort William in the south. You can see it clearly on any map.) At that time, most travel in the Highlands was by horseback on rough tracks or via boat. There are still areas of Scotland today that can only be reached via boat. Even now, roads in the Highlands are narrow single-tracks which render travel there slow.
Handfasting is an ancient practice, likely Celtic pagan in origin. In England, handfasting historically referred to a period of engagement before the actual church ceremony. In Scotland, however, handfasting when properly witnessed was viewed as a legal marriage (recognized civilly, though not religiously). It was a prevalent form of marriage in the Highlands and Western Isles for hundreds (if not thousands) of years. The ceremony was simple. The couple would plight their troth and a witness would tie their hands together with a knot (hence handfasting), symbolizing the couple’s commitment to bind their lives together.
Lastly, the revelations concerning Jamie are based on very real historical fact. In particular, Mary Lacy and her autobiography, The Female Shipwright, was widely circulated at the end of the 18th century. There are numerous tales of women taking to the sea disguised as boys.
I know I’ve mentioned this before, but for those reading one of my Scottish books for the first time, 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), muckle (enormous), youse (you all), greit/greet (to weep), 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 the paintings described, prizefighting in the era, blackhouses, 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 Rebecca Spencer, Annette Evans, and Norma Melzer for their fantastic editing skills. And a shout-out to Julie Frederick for her keen observations, as usual.
With this book, I am particularly indebted to Shannon Castleton. Thank you, my dear friend, for coming back into my life at this crazy time of plague and unrest. You pulled me through this novel more than you will ever realize.
Erin Rodabough also deserves another round of applause for her endless help. Thank you for being my writing and travel buddy.
Finally, thank you to Andrew, Austenne, Kian, and Dave for your endless patience and support.
And to all my readers, thank you for continuing to read and recommend 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 definite spoilers inherent in these questions if you have not finished reading the book as of yet.
The plot of Loving a Lady takes the typical high-born lord and low-born woman trope (which started with Pride and Prejudice and continues to this day) and turns it on its head with a countess falling for a lowly Highlander. How did the gender swap change your perception of the principles involved? Did you like the change? Why or why not?
Violet finds it difficult to make decisions. Have you ever felt this way yourself? What has helped you to make difficult decisions?
Throughout the book, both Ewan and Violet struggle to balance the demands of duty with the more personal desires of their hearts. Where is the line between duty and desire? Do you feel the characters walked that line well, in the end? Why or why not?
Along the same line as the previous question, do you feel that duty and desire are opposites? Or do you think that they are two sides of the same coin; that in a balanced life, they must walk hand-in-hand? Why or why not?
How did you feel about Ewan’s dealings with sister, Mhairi? Ewan left her in a terrible situation when she married. Did he make a moral decision in doing that? Why or why not?
Did you see the plot twist with Jamie coming? Did you like it? How did it change your perception of not just this book, but the entire series? (And before you go looking, none of the Brotherhood use a gender-specific pronoun when referring to Jamie before the reveal in this book or previous ones.)
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?
How did you feel Ewan and Violet were suited for one another? Did you truly feel like Ewan and Violet had come to genuinely love each other? If so, what makes you believe that their marriage will be a lasting one?
Violet has a somewhat difficult relationship with her father. She loves him and he
loves her, but they struggle to relate to one another’s point of view. She wants her father to be more accepting of her choices, and he wishes she would be more obedient to his wishes. How did you feel about this dynamic? Did you like how the author balanced it in the book? Why or why not?
Other Books by Nichole Van
Brotherhood of the Black Tartan
Suffering the Scot
Romancing the Rake
Loving a Lady
Vying for the Viscount (Spring 2021)
Remembering Jamie (Autumn 2021)
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 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.