The Lady Who Broke the Rules (24 page)

Author Note

The history of slavery has fascinated me. It’s a complex,
emotive and often controversial subject and no one except those who experienced
it can know what it was really like. In writing this book I did a lot of
research, but ultimately what I’ve written is a personal take which may or may
not resemble ‘reality’. What I want to share with you are some of my reasons for
choosing to take on the challenge of making a freed slave a romantic hero in the
first place.

The Lady Who Broke the Rules
is
set in 1816. In the United States the trade of slaves was abolished in the north
in 1804, after which the manumission of slaves in those states gathered
momentum. In the South, however, where cotton was in increasing demand
(paradoxically thanks to the north’s industrialisation of textile manufacture),
slaves were a hugely important part of the economy and resistance to abolition
was significant.

Virgil, my hero, was born into slavery in the South and freed
in the north. He was one of the fortunate ones who came to true eminence and
used his wealth to give others the chances he had had to make for himself.
Though in reality this kind of success was rare, it was not unheard of. Robert
Purvis is just one example of the black philanthropists from whom I took
inspiration for Virgil, but his entrepreneurial side is an amalgamation of a
whole number of black men and women who flourished in nineteenth-century Boston,
renting out real estate, setting up restaurants and beauty parlours, making
shoes and clothes for the mass market, taking on the establishment by training
as lawyers and doctors.

Across the pond in Great Britain many aristocratic families
had derived a large part of their wealth from plantations in the West Indies
which relied on slavery, but their influence was on the decline. The actual
trade of slaves became illegal in 1807 and, although it was not until 1833 that
slavery itself was abolished, by 1816 the growing Abolitionist movement, coupled
with the decline of the economic significance of the West Indies plantations,
made the idea, if not the reality, of slavery much less politically and socially
acceptable than it had been a decade or so before.

From the point of view of this story, what interested me most
about the British abolitionists was how many of them were women. It was one of
the few political causes in which it became acceptable for women to participate
and in which women took a leading and influential role, so I relished the
opportunity to create a heroine who could, without it seeming a historical
anachronism, be active politically and philanthropically. Josiah Wedgwood’s
daughter, Sarah, who introduces Kate to Virgil, was just one real-life example I
drew on.

There’s a huge difference between perception and reality.
Kate had only read about slavery. Virgil had experienced it. As a writer, I had
to try and imagine myself in both sets of shoes and whether I’ve managed it or
not—well, that’s for you to decide. But ultimately this isn’t a book about
slavery—it’s about love. And I hope you’ll agree that Kate,
The Lady Who Broke the Rules
, is as perfect for Virgil as I imagined
her to be.

Don’t miss the next installment of Castonbury Park—
LADY OF SHAME
by Ann Lethbridge

‘You’re in danger of dishonouring the family name for good!’

Lady Claire must put pride above prattle if she is to shake off the not-so-respectable reputation of her youth. Swapping rebellion for reserve, she returns to her imposing childhood home, Castonbury Park, seeking her family’s help. Penniless Claire needs a sensible husband…and fast!

But when the dark gaze of head chef Monsieur André catches her eye, he’s as deliciously tempting as the food he prepares. Claire knows he’s
most
unsuitable…even if the chemistry between them is magnetic. Risking her reputation for André would be shameful—but losing him could be even worse!

LADY OF SHAME

Ann Lethbridge

‘Y
ou risk too much.’A band tightened around
her chest. Apparently he did not feel the same way. And yet she persevered.‘If
we are careful—’His eyes found hers. A gaze filled with regret, or pity. She
could not be sure.‘I cannot be that man.’ He shot a look towards the door and
moved closer, lowering his voice. ‘I cannot be your dirty little secret, at your
beck and call while you court a husband.’The flatness of his voice when he spoke
those words stung like a whip’s metal point. She had never thought about what
they had done in those horrid terms. She’d been too busy living only in the
moment, in the joy of it. She could see what others might make of it, though.
What he had made of it.‘Don’t make this any harder than it is, Claire,’ he
murmured softly. ‘I cannot be what you want. I am sorry if I let you think
otherwise.’She wanted to plead with him, but instead spun away, gazing out of
the window before he could see her disappointment or the hot moisture welling in
her eyes. He had clearly made up his mind. And he was right. Their lovemaking was
risky. Fear and relief had sent her into his arms the first time. Loneliness the
second. ‘Of course,’ she said, keeping her voice calm. ‘I beg your pardon…’ Her
voice cracked. ‘I did not mean to insult you.’ ‘Claire,’ he said softly. ‘You
know this is right.’ She turned with a bright smile, patently false but a smile
nonetheless. ‘The Dowager Marchioness has indicated that she will not attend our
next dinner party, so our company will be smaller than usual, but I think we
should not change the dishes. Are you agreed?’ ‘I agree. But—’Then there is no
more to be said, Monsieur André. I bid you good day. I assume there will be no
more little dramas like last time?’

His dark eyes held hers. Unreadable. His expression severe.
‘No,
madame
.’ ‘Very good. You may go.’ She sounded
every bit the duke’s daughter with those words, and she held her head proudly in
clear dismissal.‘It is for the best,’ he said, clearly trying to soften the
blow. ‘Close the door on your way out.’ She spoke coldly, refusing to
acknowledge his power to cause her pain. She turned back to the window, looking
out blindly, staring at an imperfection in the glass that made the outside ebb
and flow in ripples of light and shadow.

‘As you wish,
madame
.’ The silent
pause said he’d bowed. The whisper of sound and the click of the door echoed in
her ears. She collapsed onto the sofa, the tears she’d held back hot on her
cheeks. She dashed them away. Had she so little pride? No common sense when it
came to this man? This servant? Any hint of such a scandal would lead to utter
ruin. For herself, she didn’t care about being an outcast. She’d been that for
years. But Jane’s future hung in the balance. The sins of the parent would not
be visited upon the child. She would not permit it.

ISBN 9781426876738

© Marguerite Kaye 2012

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