History Hoydens

Time 2021-10-23 23:03:20

Web Name: History Hoydens

WebSite: http://historyhoydens.blogspot.com

ID:211071

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History,Hoydens,

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History Hoydens

Historical Romance Writers Dishing the Dirt on Research

Isobel Carr Leslie Carroll/
Amanda Elyot Teresa (Tracy) Grant Juliet Grey Rose Lerner Lauren Willig



Rose Lerner:
IN FOR A PENNY


Tracy (Teresa) Grant:
THE BERKELEY SQUARE AFFAIR


Juliet Grey:
CONFESSIONS OF MARIE ANTOINETTE


Lauren Willig:
THE ASHFORD AFFAIR



Isobel Carr:
RIPE FOR SEDUCTION


Lauren Willig:
THE GARDEN INTRIGUE


Leslie Carroll:
THE ROYALS





Rose Lerner:
A LILY AMONG THORNS
(Sept 2014)



Isobel Carr:
RIPE FOR ANYTHING
(TBA, 2014)




Rose Lerner:
SWEET DISORDER


Lauren Willing:
THE ORCHID AFFAIR

Tracy (Teresa) Grant:
THE PARIS PLOT


Juliet Grey:
DAYS OF SPELENDOR, DAYS OF SORROW


Isobel Carr:
RIPE FOR SCANDAL


Juliet Grey:
BECOMING MARIE ANTOINETTE


Leslie Carroll:
ROYAL PAINS


The world of Gilded Deceit - Research at the Met The Rannochs, the Shelleys, Lord Byron, Historic... Illumination Boxing Day Remembering Dorothy Dunnett A Teaser from Mission for a Queen Spies, Loyalty, Betrayal the Napoleonic Wars Rev... How Did 18th Century Gowns Work, Part One A :azy Sunday, Dolls, Inspiration Queen Hortenses Secret September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 November 2010 December 2010 January 2011 February 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011 August 2011 September 2011 October 2011 November 2011 December 2011 January 2012 February 2012 March 2012 April 2012 May 2012 June 2012 July 2012 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 December 2012 January 2013 February 2013 March 2013 April 2013 May 2013 June 2013 July 2013 August 2013 September 2013 October 2013 November 2013 December 2013 January 2014 February 2014 March 2014 April 2014 May 2014 June 2014 July 2014 August 2014 September 2014 October 2014 November 2014 December 2014 January 2015 February 2015 March 2015 April 2015 May 2015 June 2015 July 2015 August 2015 September 2015 October 2015 November 2015 December 2015 January 2016 February 2016 March 2016 April 2016 May 2016 June 2016 July 2016 August 2016 September 2016 October 2016 November 2016 December 2016 January 2017 April 2017 May 2017 Risky RegenciesReading the PastSmart BitchesTeach Me TonightWord Wenches

01 May 2017 The world of Gilded Deceit - Research at the Met

My daughter Mélanie I just got back from a wonderful trip to New York City, where, in addition to meeting with the great team at NYLA, I got to do some fabulous research at the Metropolitan Museum. The period rooms at the Met are a treasure trove. I loved the furnished rooms in both British Decorative Arts and The American Wing (above Mélanie and I are in front of the façade at the entrance to American Wing's rooms). But on this trip I was also fascinated by Italian pieces that could furnish Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch's villa on Lake Como and the other villas in which my forthcoming Gilded Deceit is set.

The Rannochs' villa dates to the 16th century, but just like their houses in London and Scotland in would contain pieces from a variety of eras, including some like this 18th century furniture. And various parts of their villa would have been remodeled in different eras, so some could resemble this 18th room from Palazzo Sagredo:




The Thurston villa where some key scenes take place is newer and has ceilings similar to this one:


And there are numerous scene on terraces with marble tiled tables. I loved finding this table from Farnese Palace by Jacopo Barozzi da Vignola c. 1565-1573:


Have you ever walked into a museum and felt scenes from a book come to life?

Labels: Charles and Mélanie Fraser, Gilded Deceit, Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 8:10 PM | 4 comments

03 April 2017 The Rannochs, the Shelleys, Lord Byron, margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family:Helvetica; mso-bidi-font-family:Helvetica;}@page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;}div.Section1 {page:Section1;}-->The last full novel in Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch historical mystery series, London Gambit, ended with the "series game-changer" of Malcolm and Suzanne and their family fleeing Britain because of Suzanne's past as a French spy. It was a plot twist I'd had in mind for a long time in the series, but even as I wrote London Gambit, I dithered. I felt guilty about putting my characters through so much. I wondered if I was writing myself into a corner. At the same time I was really excited about the possibilities their leaving Britain opened up for the series.When London Gambit ends, the Rannochs are planning to take refuge at Malcolm's villa on Lake Como. The next novel, Gilded Deceit, (which will be released May 15) finds them (after a stop in Switzerland to see Suzanne's friend Hortense Bonaparte) arriving at this exquisite setting in August of 1818. When I sat down to research and plot Gilded Deceit, I realized that Percy and Mary Shelley also traveled to Italy in 1818, and that Lord Byron was already there.Lord Byron by Thomas Phillips
In book which thematically in many ways is about exiles and ex-patriates, I couldn't resist including the Shelleys and Byron in the story. Byron's former lover, Lady Caroline Lamb, has already been part of the series. I spent a lot of time trying to plot Gilded Deceit around the Shelleys' and Byron's actually chronology. But the over all chronology of the series and some developments with secondary characters locked me into a certain timeline. So in the end, I confess, I took shocking liberties with Lord Byron's and Percy and MaryShelley's chronology in Italy in the summer of 1818.Percy and Mary traveled to Italy in the spring of 1818 with their two young children William and Clara, Mary's stepsister Claire Clairmont, and Allegra, Claire's child by Lord Byron. The plan was to take the little girl to Byron, who had agreed to raise her. Claire was very conflicted about this, but she was single and penniless. Maintaining a fiction about Allegra's birth was getting challenging and if it became known that she was Claire's illegitimate child, it would be difficult for Claire to find employment.Percy and Mary visitedLake Como soon after their arrival with the ideaof taking a villa there for the summer and inviting Byron to join them. ButByron preferred to remain in Venice, and in the end the Shelleys, theirchildren, and Claire spent time in Milan, fromwhence Claire tearfully sent baby Allegra to Venice to live withByron. The Shelleys and Claire then traveled south, stoppedfor a month in Livorno, and spent the summer in the spa town of Bagni di Luca,in the Apennine Mountains.Mary Shelley by Reginald Easton
On17 August, Percy and Claire left for Venice to try to see Allegra. They foundByron in an agreeable mood. He offered the Shelley party the use of his villaat Este for the summer where Claire could spend time with Allegra. The onlyproblem was that Percy had told Byron Mary was with them, so that Byron, whocould be surprisingly puritanical, wouldn't be shocked at Percy and Clairetraveling alone. Percy wrote to Mary that she needed to join them at Este atonce with the children. Their baby daughter, Clara, already ill, worsened onthe journey. Mary and Percy took her to a doctor in Venice, but by the time Percybrought the doctor to the inn where Mary was with the baby, Clara was dying. InGilded Deceit, I have theShelleys and Byron in Milan over at least part of the summer, so they can meet some other characters in the book with whom their connection later becomes significiant. I have also moved Clara's death back about a month from theend of September to the end of August. And rather than Percy and Mary spendingtime in Este and Venice after Clara's death, I have the Shelleys go to LakeComo, accompanied by Lord Byron.I agonized, as I always do, when changing historical facts. But all three characters add an immeasurable amount to Gilded Deceit. Both the novel and the Rannochs benefit from their presence.How do you feel about authors changing historical chronologies? Writers, how do you approach such situations yourselves?Forfurther reading about Mary and Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, I recommendMiranda Seymour's Mary Shelley (NewYork: Grove Press, 2002); Florence A. Thomas Marshall's The Life and Letters of Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Volume I (London: Richard Bentley Son, 1889); Daisy Hay's Young Romantics:The Tangled Lives of English Poetry's Greatest Generation (New York:Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010); and Benita Eisler's Byron: Child of Passion, Fool of Fame (New York: Alfred A. Knopf,1999).

Labels: Gilded Deceit, London Gambit, Lord Byron, Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch, Mary Shelley, Percy Shelley, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 8:27 PM | 1 comments

09 January 2017 Illumination

A brief post because my weekend was disrupted by a major storm in the Bay Area. My daughter and I were unable to get home for a while on Saturday night due to road closures and took refuge in a restaurant (photo above). When we finally did get home, our power was out. Not an unusual occurrence when one live sin the country, but the length of time was a bit unusual. We didn't get it back until 3:00 Sunday afternoon, meaning it was out for about 23 hours.


It was, as I told my five-year-old Mélanie, an adventure. It threw my writing schedule off (battery ran down on the computer). But it also proved to be its own type of research. As we struggled to brush our teeth and wash our faces and read books by the light of (battery) candles, I thought about the characters in my books living by candlelight. Candlelight is quite dim, even when one masses a lot of candles together. What was it like for my fictional Suzanne Rannoch to remove her eyeblacking, clean her teeth, or change a nappy, let alone try to read a book or write a letter? One begins to realize the attraction of mirrors and gilding. In fact, at a friend's wedding a few years ago in a beautiful baroque settling, I realized that white and gold walls and mirrors, which can seem garish in the glare of electric light, look beautifully muted by candlelight.

But I can't but think about what a challenge it must have been to just complete every day activities after dark (or even as we discovered Sunday morning, on a gray day), especially for those who couldn't afford a profusion of wax tapers (there was a candle tax too). Greasy rushlights would be even harder to see by. The Argand lamp in the late 18th century with a cylindrical wick and chimney, much brighter than candles, and also cheaper and clean burning, was in high demand and one can see why.


Do you have moments as a reader or writer when you find yourself experiencing first hand some small detail of what it was like to live in an era you write or read about?

Labels: Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 8:30 PM | 2 comments

12 December 2016 Boxing Day

In the midst of the busy holiday season (which in our family also includes my daughter's birthday on 13 December) this seems a good time to revisit a post I wrote a while back about Boxing Day.


December 26th is one of my favorite days of the holiday season. A friend and I used to go after-Christmas sale shopping in downtown San Francisco (at seventy-percent off we can afford labels that would otherwise be completely out of reach), look at the decorations, and have a holiday lunch at the Rotunda at Neiman Marcus with a view of Union Square. My friend has moved away, but now I take my daughter Mélanie. Our shopping now includes the Disney Store as well as Saks and Neiman's but we still have lunch at the Rotunda. The last couple of years we've also gone ice skating in Union Square where they set up a holiday rink.

December 26th would also be an important day for the characters in the Regency world of my books, but Mélanie Suzanne Rannoch would not spend the day meeting her friends Cordelia Davenport and Laura Tarrington for an afternoon of shopping in the Burlington Arcade. Instead, Mélanie Suzanne and her husband Malcolm would be presenting Christmas boxes (filled gifts such as food, clothing, toys, and money) to their servants. If they were at Dunmykel, their country house in Scotland, they would hold an open house for their tenants and present them with Christmas boxes (being very responsible landowners, I'm sure Malcolm and Mélanie Suzanne would arrange for a Boxing Day party for their tenants even if they weren't in the country themselves). Being responsible parents, I imagine they would have their children, Colin and Jessica, help fill and distribute the boxes. A far more altruistic way to spend the day, I confess, than sale shopping :-).

December 26th is known as Boxing Day after these Christmas boxes (not, as I vaguely thought as a child when I first read the term in British novels, because it was a day prize fights were held). It coincides with St. Stephen's Day, the day when "Good King Wenceslas looked out" and saw "a poor man gathering winter fuel." The Christmas Box tradition is owed at least in part to the fact that servants would not have December 25th off and so would celebrate with their families on the 26th (taking with them the contents of their Christmas boxes). Thinking about this reminded me once again that there would be a great many people working very hard to keep the elite world of the beau monde running smoothly. Malcolm and Mélanie Suzane are very egalitarian and forward-thinking, but I doubt they'd have done without a staff on Christmas Day. I do think they'd have gone to great lengths to throw a wonderful Boxing Day party, however.

Warmest wishes for a wonderful holiday season!

Labels: Boxing Day, Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch, Regency Christmas, Regency holidays, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 7:51 PM | 0 comments

15 November 2016 Remembering Dorothy Dunnett

This past Saturday was International Dorothy Dunnett Day. My daughter Mélanie and I celebrated with a group of Dunnett readers in the Bay Area (above) while round the world other Dunnett readers toast the Scottish historical novelist with drams of her favorite Highland Park whisky.

This seems a good time to repeat a post I first put up in 2007 about Dunnett, who has been a major influence on me as writer.

I first discovered Dorothy Dunnett’s books the summer between high school and college. I picked up The Game of Kings, the first book in the Lymond Chronicles, and spent a couple of days curled up on the sofa, glued to the page. I promptly devoured the rest of the six volume series. I told my mother she had to read them. It took her a bit of time to get into The Game of Kings, but soon she was as hooked as I was.

For those who haven’t yet discovered the Lymond Chronicles, the series begins in 16th century Scotland (when Mary, Queen of Scots, is a young child) and ranges all over the Continent. At the heart of the series is Francis Crawford of Lymond, mercenary, scholar, musician. Brilliant, tortured, an enigma to the reader and to most of the other characters. A lot of the fun of the series is trying to find the key to the fascinating code of who Lymond is, both literally (his parentage is in question) and in psychological terms. There’s a wonderful supporting cast of characters, both real historical figures and fictional characters blended seamlessly together. There’s adventure, angst, political intrigue, witty dialogue, and poetic allusions. The writing is wonderfully rich (Dunnett was also a painter), the pacing breakneck.

After the Lymond Chronicles, my mom and I both read Dunnett’s stand alone novel King Hereafter and her contemporary mysteries. And then to our excitement, she began a new series, the House of Niccolò, set in the 15th century, beginning in Bruges but again ranging all over, this time as far as Timbucktu and Iceland. The hero of the new series was a young dyeworks apprentice named Nicholas, dismissed as a buffoon by many but with abilities which lead him to rise in the commercial world and pull him into political intrigue in more than one country. Again, fictional events are blended with real historical events and mysteries abound. Reading the Lymond Chronicles, I thought, “it would have been really hard to read these as they were written and have to wait for each book.” With the House of Niccolò we had to do just that, with two years or so between each book. With their complex characters, intricate plots, and cliffhanger endings, the Dunnett books cry out for discussion. My mom and I talked about them endlessly, but we didn’t know anyone else who read them. I was thrilled to meet fellow writer Penelope Williamson and discover she was also a Dunnett reader. Penny and I spent many long lunches analyzing Dunnett’s books and speculating about what would happen next in the Niccolò series.

Then, in the mid-nineties, Penny and I both got online. We discovered there were whole online groups devoted to discussing Dunnett’s novels. Suddenly we could analyze and speculate with people all over the world. Dunnett readers tend to be a wonderul group–warm, friendly, well-read. I’ve had a great time geting together with fellow Dunnett readers both in the Bay Area and while traveling. In 2000, Penny and I and a number of our other Dunnett-reading friends went to Scotland for a conference in honor of the publication of the last book in the House of Niccolò series. Even now the series is finished (and Dunnett sadly passed away a few years ago) we love to get together online and in person to discuss Dunnett books and other books (not to mention tv shows from Deadwood to Spooks/MI-5 to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (which seems to be a particular favorite with Dunnett readers) :-).

Dunnett talked about reading and being influenced by other writers I love–Sabatini, Orczy, Heyer (certainly you can see bits of Andre-Louis Moreau and Percy Blakeney in Lymond, no to mention a touch of Peter Wimsey). She’s been a huge influence on me. I can see a number of echoes of her books looking at my Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch series–questions about parentage, the secrets of parents echoing through their children's lives, spouses working on opposite sides and wondering if they can trust each other, personal and political loyalties intertwining and conflicting. I still pull out her books and reread certain scenes when I have to tackle an action sequence or a sword fight (The Game of Kings has the best sword fight I’ve ever read).

Have you read Dunnett? Do you enjoy discussing her books? Are there other authors you discuss with friends, online or in person?

Labels: Dorothy Dunnett, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 5:11 PM | 9 comments

17 October 2016 A Teaser from Mission for a Queen

In July I blogged about Hortense Bonaparte, who is an important character in my new historical mystery novella, Mission for a Queen.

With Mission for a Queen out in just over two weeks (November 3), here is teaser, a scene between Hortense and Mélanie Suzanne Rannoch. Mélanie Suzanne (the fictional heroine of my series) met Hortense on a mission seven years before. Now Hortense is in exile in Switzerland following Waterloo and Mélanie and her British husband Malcolm are exiles themselves due to Mélanie's past a French spy being exposed. They have stopped to see Hortense on their way to Italy and find Hortense one again in need of their services.


Hortensewatched the door close behind Malcolm and Raoul and drew a shuddering breath.She glanced down at her hands, then seemed to force herself to meet Mélanie'sgaze."You'reright to trust Malcolm," Mélanie said. "Idon't doubt it. He's plainly a remarkable man." Hortense gathered thepaisley folds of her shawl about her shoulders. "I'm sure you could readbetween the lines of what I didn't say."Mélaniereached for her cooling coffee and took a sip. "Some of it.""Youmust despise me.""Darling.Of course not."Hortensegave a bitter smile, twisting her fingers in the fringe on the shawl."Aren't you going to say it?"Mélaniereturned the cup to its saucer with care. "Say what, dearest?""Thatyou thought I'd already met the love of my life. Having thrown away so much ofmy life for him, how could I possibly look elsewhere?""Hortense—"Mélanie put her hand over her friend's. Hortense's fingers were cold to thetouch. "I'd never presume to claim I knew who was the love of someone'slife. And even if one does talk in those terms, losing that person doesn't meanone can't feel for someone else."Hortenseglanced away. Silhouetted against the French windows, her face was drawn withanguish. "Does he love her?"Noneed to ask whom Hortense meant by "her." Mélanie saw Auguste-Charles-Joseph,Comte de Flahaut, bending over his bride's chair in the supper room at her ballin Berkeley Square two months since, handing his wife into her chair at theopera, circling the floor with her in a waltz. "He cares for her."She saw the look in Flahaut's gaze as it rested on Margaret's perfectly coiffedhair. "There's been gossip, of course—""Therealways is about Flahaut and his women." Hortense's mouth twisted in a wrysmile. There had been a string of women in Flahaut's past, long before theirscandalous affair ("More beautiful women than I," Hortense had saidto Mélanie seven years ago). "And of course, given his situation and herfortune, people were bound to draw obvious conclusions. But I know him. I can't believe that'sall—"The gaze she turned to Mélanie was widewith fear, but whether fear that her former lover had fallen in love or that hehadn't, Mélanie couldn't have said. She wasn't sure Hortense could have done."I don't think that is all," Mélanie said truthfully. "He toldme he cares for her, and seeing them together, I believe it. But—" Shehesitated, wondering how much to say, how much might bring the most comfort."I don't think it's the same as what you shared. I don't think anythingever will be."Hortense'smouth twisted again, this time with sorrow. "You're kind, chérie. But now which of us istalking like a romantic?""I'mnot in the least romantic." Mélanie had a sharp image in her mind ofFlahaut, lifting Hortense's hand to his lips, tenderness writ in the angle ofhis head as it bent over her own. "But I understand love rather betterthan I did seven years ago.""Oh,ma chère." Hortense gripped herhand. "Here I am going on about myself when you're facing—""We'resafe." Mélanie reached for her coffee again, taking refuge behind thegilt-rimmed porcelain. Coffee in Britain never quite tasted the same, even whenshe or Blanca made it. "Which is more than most of my compatriots cansay." She took a fortifying sip of coffee and explained briefly thatMalcolm had discovered Carfax knew of her past, leaving out mention of Davidand Simon. "It's no more than I deserve." She squeezed Hortense'shand, determined not to be coddled. "But I hate what's it's doing toMalcolm.""Ican't imagine he wants to be anywhere but where he is. He's head over ears inlove with you.""Mydear." Mélanie straightened up and drew the gauze folds of her scarf abouther shoulders. "You've been little more than a half hour in hiscompany.""AndI've seen the way he looks at you.""Malcolmis loyal.""Malcolmplainly adores you." Hortense hesitated a moment. "Speaking of which,Raoul—""Oh,yes." Mélanie smiled despite everything. "He's head over ears in lovewith Laura."Despiteher words, Hortense gave a start of surprise. "I think even he'd admit it,"Mélanie said. "Or, if not, it's only because words like that don't comeeasily to him, and he's trying to protect Laura.""Inever saw him—""Peoplechange. Which doesn't mean he's any better than the rest of us at lettinghimself be happy." Mélanie leaned forwards. "Right now we aren't theones with the problems. Tell me about Pierre Amouret."Hortensedrew a breath, a scrape of sound in the lace and crystal of the room. "Asyou must have guessed, I let myself grow—close to him."Mélaniehad guessed, and though she could never despise Hortense, she owned to havingfelt a start of surprise she would not for the world let her friend see.Throughout their friendship, she had seen Hortense as single-mindedly in lovewith one man. Laughable, given her own past and views on love, to feel suchsurprise, but—"I'm sorry for how it ended, though I'm glad you haven'tbeen entirely lonely."Hortense'slaugh was bitter as stewed tea. "He—we—I enjoyed the admiration. I letmyself feel things I hadn't for a long time. Things I shouldn't.""Noone should have to live without—""Itwasn't love. I don't know about Flahaut, but I'm quite sure I couldn't followthat road again. We weren't even—" Hortense colored. "But I can'tdeny it was agreeable. Having a man's admiration. Letting myself flirt. Whatharm could it do? I thought." She gripped her elbows, hugging her armsacross her chest. "God, I was a fool.""You'rehardly the first person to have been taken in by someone's romanticattentions." Mélanie swallowed. Hard. "Ishould have seen—""It'shard to spot when you're not trained to see it. Or even when you are. And hemay—""What?"Mélaniesmoothed the links of her bracelet, the slender white-gold chain with diamondsthat Malcolm had given her for her most recent birthday. Before he knew thetruth about her. "He may really have cared for you.""I'mnot imagining things, Mélanie. I know what he took from me.""I'mnot suggesting you're imagining things. It doesn't mean he didn't care.""He—"Hortense shook her head. "I don't know what would have happened if hehadn't left. If I hadn't learned the truth. How far I'd have let it go. Notfar, I think. But after being alone for so long—I was enjoying the soap bubble.And then yesterday he went out for a ride and never came back." She pushedherself to her feet. "I thought it was odd. I thought"—she shook herhead—"that perhaps I'd gone too far. Offended him in some way. He was socourteous and well mannered. It was only that night when I opened my jewel boxthat I realized my bracelet was missing." She locked her hands together,her knuckles white.Mélaniepushed herself to her feet as well. "Don't panic just yet. We don't evenknow why he took the bracelet."Hortenserubbed her bare arms. "That almost makes it worse. He went to suchlengths, it must be important. Which is rather terrifying."We'llfind it, dearest. Before any damage is done.""Youcan't be sure of that.""No."Mélanie put an arm round Hortense's shoulders. "But the odds are verygood. If you don't trust me, trust Raoul. Not to mention Malcolm."Hortenseshook her head. "You and Raoul are expert at fixing things. I'm sure yourhusband is too. And I'm the sort of person who gets things fixed for her."She stared at a painting of a young Napoleon in gleaming uniform, brilliant anddefiant. "But you can't fix everything. Perhaps it's time I learn to beresponsible for some of my own mistakes."Mélaniesqueezed Hortense's shoulders. "Life is complicated enough, sweetheart.Take help where you can.""Spokenby the most self-reliant woman I know.""Dearest,I wouldn't have survived half this long if I hadn't learned to accepthelp.""SoI should simply sit here and let you rescue me again?""You'reone of the strongest people I know, Hortense." Mélanie drew her friendback over to the sofa. "You're keeping your children safe in a dangerousworld. There's no challenge more important than that."Hortense'sgaze went to the French windows. Indistinct childish voices echoed through theglass. A blur of movement indicated the game of tag was still in progress."Both the boys are safe, thank God. And—" Shebroke off, but Mélanie knew she was thinking of her third surviving son,Flahaut's child, who lived in secret with his grandmother. And with thatrealization came the knowledge of something else she had to share with herfriend. Not the best time for such news, but perhaps it would at least giveHortense another focus for her thoughts. "Hortense—I saw someone else weboth know in England."Hortense'sgaze flew to Mélanie's face."Julien."Hortensestared at her. Seven years ago, when Mélanie had traveled into Switzerland withHortense so she could give birth to her illegitimate child by Flahaut insecret, Julien St. Juste had escorted them. "He was there on amission?""Hewas working for Lord Carfax. Malcolm's former spymaster.""Theman you're running from now." Hortense's voice shook with disbelief."Ina nutshell. Apparently Julien has worked for Carfax for some time.""GoodGod." The color drained from Hortense's face. "So Carfax knows aboutme? About the baby?"Muchas she wanted to deny it, Mélanie knew she had to be honest. "I'm notsure. I don't think so. Julien says he's still loyal to you and yourmother.""Andyou believe him?"Mélaniesaw the white gleam of Julien's smile and the hard brilliance of his gaze attheir last meeting in Hyde Park. "Yes, actually. Julien's always had acode of sorts, difficult as it is to decipher. But he says Flahaut stoppedbeing off-limits when he left you."Hortense'sshoulders snapped straight. "He didn't leave me. We—""SoI told Julien. Julien asked if I thought you'd have made the choice on yourown."Hortensereached for her coffee and tossed down a swallow. "We have to warn Flahaut.""Julien'sleft Britain. I don't think he's a threat for the moment.""For the moment—""We'veall learned to live with risk.""Flahautisn't an agent. And you aren't in Britain to protect him.""ButI still have friends there. If Julien shows his face again, if it seems we needto warn Flahaut, we can. Meanwhile, you're right. He's not trained atdissembling. Better for him not to know."Hortenseshook her head as though her world had tilted on its axis. "Has Julienalways worked for this Carfax? He was my mother's lover. Did Carfax arrangethat?""Idon't know.""DearGod. To have such an intimate relationship be controlled by a spymaster—"Mélaniedrew in her breath. "Quite."Hortense'sgaze shot to her face. "I didn't mean—""It'san apt comparison. In some ways there isn't much to choose between Julien andme.""Don'tbe absurd." Hortense returned her cup to its saucer with a crisp click."You couldn't be like Julien if you tried."Mélaniereached for her coffee. "Carfax has some hold on Julien, but Julien hasn'tworked for him exclusively. And to the extent Julien has feelings at all, hehad them for your mother."Hortensegave a harsh laugh. "Even my mother didn't trust him entirely, though Ithink she trusted him more than she should have done. Was it Julien whobetrayed you to Carfax?""Hesays not, and he seems to have been telling the truth."Hortensenodded. "If there's one person I'd have expected him not to betray, it'syou."Mélanie'sfingers jerked, spattering coffee on her rose-and-ivory-striped sarcenet skirt."Why—""Hewas half in love with you on that journey into Switzerland."Thecup clattered against the saucer in her nerveless fingers. "Hortense,that's ridiculous—""Perhapsmore than half."Mélaniesnatched up a napkin and blotted the spilled coffee on her skirt. "Julienisn't the sort to fall in love with anyone.""Youjust said his feelings for my mother were real.""Yes,but—""AndI think you were right, in a way. He was certainly loyal to her, and because ofthat I think he's loyal to me. At least to a degree. But you fascinatedhim."Mélaniegave a short laugh, Julien's mocking voice ringing in her memory. "Perhapsbecause he couldn't get me back into bed after that first mission.""Youknow perfectly well it was more than that." Hortense sat back against thecushions and regarded Mélanie. "I always thought he wasn't sure what tomake of his feelings for you. That you were a challenge to the way he views theworld."Mélaniefolded the stained napkin into neat quarters. "You always had a weaknessfor novels, Hortense.""Thereare insights to be found in novels. Not that I think Julien wanted to run offwith you and live in a rose-covered cottage—""Ishould hope not. We'd have killed each other inside a week.""ButI doubt the way he felt about you has changed, either. There's something oddlysteadfast about Julien.""That'strue when it comes to your mother and you." And yet Julien's voice echoedin her memory. In the rightcircumstances. With the right woman. You could come close. She'd dismissedhis words a few weeks ago. She still dismissed them. And yet, for anunaccountable reason, a chill ran through her.

Labels: Hortense Bonaparte, Josephine Bonaparte, Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch, Mission for a Queen, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 8:26 PM | 0 comments

19 September 2016 Spies, Loyalty, Betrayal the Napoleonic Wars. Reading it over it resonated with much of what I am writing about now. I thought I would update it for this week's post. Also helpful because I am in the midst of copy edits and just got back from traveling (there I am above with my daughter in Ashland, Oregon). I hope you enjoy this updated trip down memory lane.

I gravitated to the Regency/Napoleonic era through my love of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer. But I also love spy stories, both James Bond adventure and the sort of intricate chess games and moral dilemmas John le Carré dramatizes so brilliantly. The Napoleonic Wars offers are a wonderfully rich setting for both types of story. So many different sides, so many different factions within sides. The French under Napoleon had been bent on conquest, but they had also brought much-needed reforms to many countries. Some liberal Spaniards saw supporting the French in the Peninsular War as the quickest route to progressive reform. And after the Napoleonic Wars, a number of the victors wanted to turn the clock back to before the French Revolution and saw any hint of reform as one step away from blood in the streets. Friends easily melt into enemies and back again. Napoleon’s longtime foreign minister Prince Talleyrand later became prime minister under the Bourbon restoration. Joseph Fouché who had been ruthless in using terror against enemies of the Bonapartist government, was equally ruthless in going after Napoleon’s supporters who were proscribed from the amnesty after Waterloo. In the midst of breakneck adventure, a love affair can have political consequences, a tactical decision can shatter a friendship, it can come down to a question not of whether or not commit betrayal but only of who or what to betray.





I’ve always been fascinated by moral dilemmas. And I’m intrigued by how romantic fidelity and betrayal can parallel other types of fidelity and betrayal (whether between husbands and wives or in their relationship with other characters or with a country or cause). I like writing stories of intrigue set in tumultuous times, but I think in those sorts of times (probably always but then more than ever) choices don’t tend to come down to easy, clear-questions of right and wrong. It’s interesting to see how characters wrestle with those issues and how the personal and the political intertwine. The possibility that a loved one or friend isn’t who you thought they were is perhaps one of our deepest fears in a relationship. And yet most of us are somewhat different people in different aspects of our lives and have different loyalties – to spouses, children, lovers, friends, causes, countries, work. Sometimes it isn’t so much a question of betrayal as of deciding which loyalty comes first. It’s not so far from the seemingly lofty sentiment of “I could not love thee, dear, so much, Lov’d I not Honour more” to betraying a lover for a cause.
Or so my heroine Suzanne might argue. Her husband Malcolm might have more difficulty with the idea. He takes personal loyalties very seriously, though he was the one who went off to the field at Waterloo and risked himself (though he wasn't a soldier) leaving his wife and son behind in Brussels. In the midst of the carnage, he wondered which loyalty he should have put first. While Suzanne, for different reasons, was wondering much the same thing. In the wake of the most recent book in the series, London Gambit, Malcolm and Suzanne have been forced to flee Britain because the secrets of Suzanne's past as a Bonapartist French spy have unraveled. On their way to safety at Malcolm's villa in Tuscany, they stop in Switzerland to see Suzanne's friend Hortense Bonaparte, Josephine's daughter and Napoleon's stepdaughter. They find Hortense in trouble, leading to the events of my forthcoming novella, Mission for a Queen (out November 3). Sitting with Hortense in her elegant salon, Malcolm thinks "He was used to enemies changing into allies. But there was something about sitting in this decorous salon, a few feet away from the stepdaughter of the man who had been his country's opponent for so many years—"

Malcolm's loyalty to his wife has led him into exile from his country and to the stepdaughter of the man he fought against for so many years. He finds himself, alongside Suzanne, helping Hortense with a problem that is intensely personal and yet has political ramifications that could ripple across the Continent.

Writers, do you choose time periods because they lend themselves particularly well to the type of stories you want to tell? Or does your choice of time period influence the stories you create? Readers, do you think you like to read about particular eras because of the type of stories and the issues in those stories that tend to work in those eras? What's the worst choice of loyalties you've encountered in a book? And what's your favorite spy story in any era?

Labels: Hortense Bonaparte, Malcolm and Suzanne Rannoch, Mission for a Queen, Teresa Grant, Tracy Grant

posted by Tracy Grant | 6:26 PM | 4 comments

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