#regency romance

[yeoldenews]

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey: 

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

#history #regency #1800s #1810s #names #london #writing resources #regency romance #jane austen #bridgerton #bridgerton would be an exponentially better show if daphne's name was dorcas #behold - the reason i haven't posted in three weeks

[checkoutmybookshelf]

This was too good not to share, and I am now putting out into the world the desire for an animated, animal friends version of Pride and Prejudice that does EXACTLY THIS. It would be AMAZING.

For anyone interested in the original: https://www.tumblr.com/pagerunner/191002786668/pride-prejudice-2005-dir-joe-wright

I found the screengrab on pinterest originally, so give the OG poster a like too!

#classic literature memes #literature memes #pride and prejudice #mr. bingley #mr. darcy #elizabeth bennet #regency novel #regency romance #jane austen

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Still Going (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warnings: T - suggestiveness, language, panic attack, feels Word count: 1.4k

Summary: A meaningful moment with your new husband. Author's Note: This is just a lil idea that popped into my head last night. Inspired by just wanting to hug the sad!Anthony from one of @fayes-fics stories. Thank you to @colettebronte for helping me pin down the right moment for the header. 💙

Months into your marriage and your husband still left you numb with pleasure each and every night as you tumbled with one another across your bed. Two things had become abundantly clear to you soon after marrying Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. First was the reason unmarried young ladies were not allowed in private company with young gentlemen, particularly of the rakish variety. And second was that you were one of the lucky ones who did not view cavorting with your husband as some sort of grueling, customary duty for the sole purpose of conceiving children. No indeed, it was proving to be the highlight of your life together as he unlocked unimaginable sensations within your body that left your mind soaring even as you lay limp and panting in his arms.

It was in just such a moment on a still summer night at Bridgerton House that you both collapsed back into the pillows together, spent and euphoric from your lovemaking. You chuckled, nuzzling in close to Anthony’s side as he planted a soft kiss on your forehead. You were fuzzy, lapsing into welcome sleep when he leaned away to reach for something on his nightstand. Then you heard the small clatter, immediately followed by his hissing curses.

“Dammit! No…” He rolled away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed as his voice rose in volume. “No, no, no. Fuck!”

Your eyes flew open to see his broad back hunched over, clutching something in his hands. You gathered the sheet around yourself and shifted to sit behind him. “Anthony? What’s wrong?”

In the low moonlight from the windows you could see he cradled his pocket watch in his palm, a splintering crack now etched across its face. His shoulders were beginning to heave, his breath growing short as he stared at it, transfixed. “It broke…” he croaked. “It…it just fell. I’ve dropped it before, but it broke and I…” He was gasping now, fighting for air like a drowning man as his eyes darted and his hands began to shake.

You had seen this before, one of his spells when fear and overwhelm consumed him. It had happened when his youngest sister had broken her leg during childish roughhousing, again when his brother had received an innocuous bee sting, and again when you had come down with a nasty but passing fever after your honeymoon. Every time someone he loved found themselves in harm’s way he was liable to lose control of his faculties, only temporarily, as his mind spun toward the worst possible conclusions. You knew why he suffered this way and didn’t judge him for a moment. Instead, you had committed yourself to bolstering him through the storms, learning techniques that helped call him back to himself.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders and felt how he trembled.

He continued mumbling to himself, eyes locked on the watch, each word rasping. “It broke…I can’t…what do I…”

“Anthony?” You kept your voice clear and steady. “Anthony, look at me.”

He turned and you were nearly undone by the anguish you found in his eyes. You brought a hand to his cheek and pressed your foreheads together, his frantic exhales gusting across your skin. “My love, it’s alright.” You soothed, stroking his face and running your fingertips into his hair, imploring him to hear you. “You must control your breath. Anthony, follow me.” Reverting to what had worked before, you took his hand and gently guided it to press flat over your heart. You did the same, bringing a hand to rest on his heaving chest so that you mirrored one another. Tears threatened to form at the terrified pounding you felt under your fingertips, something so vulnerable within your husband who was otherwise a pillar of strength.

He was still panicked, nearly vibrating against you as he choked for air, but you kept your breath slow and deliberate, leading him out of the tempest with something solid and rhythmic. After a few moments he fell in sync with you, shuddering inhales that struggled to pace with your own, and desperate exhales as he released the disquiet that surged through him. His pulse began to slow, ever so gradually, and you felt the tension begin to melt out of his frame. He still clutched the watch tightly in his free hand, but the one against your skin grew soft and warm again as he regained himself.

“That’s it. Very good. Everything will be alright.” You cooed, running your thumb over his cheek. You hated that he was faced with such demons and were grateful that your methods of combatting them seemed effective. Anthony sagged against you, starting to breathe through his nose as he settled back into equilibrium. He was always exhausted after his episodes.

“Let me see.” You dropped your hands and gently pried the pocket watch out of his, inspecting it. As far as you could tell the damage was only superficial. Just a fracture in the glass but the mechanism was still ticking. “We can get this repaired.” You reassured him.

He looked back at you, eyes huge and pleading. “It was my father’s watch.”

This was a fact you knew well, with Anthony himself having told you many times before. It wasn’t that he thought you ignorant, it was the anxiety of the moment speaking for him.

“I know, my love.” You nodded. “It is precious. But it is not broken. It’s only the glass that is cracked, see? It’s still going.” You held the timepiece next to his ear so that he could hear its steady ticking for himself. Undeniable relief lit across his face as he let out a shaking exhale, inclining himself to listen more closely. The tempo of the watch gears proved as soothing to him as the beating of your heart. You smiled, knowing the worst was behind you. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll take it to the jeweler and have the glass replaced.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anthony nodded. Then he turned to kiss your wrist and place the watch safely in the drawer of his nightstand. Sliding back into the center of the bed, he wrapped you in his arms and burrowed down into the sheets, breathing deep into your hair as he pressed you to his warm, naked torso. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m sorry you have such a fool for a husband.”

You pouted. “Why would you say he is foolish?”

“Because he goes to pieces over something as silly as a broken watch.” 

“I don’t think it’s silly.” You stretched an arm across his chest, tucking your head under his chin. “I think it speaks to how deeply he cares for his family. How much he honors his father’s memory, like a true gentleman.”

“Mmm. True gentlemen should not fall prey to such reckless displays of emotion.” He fell back into his Viscount’s tone, bitter and exacting. His censure in that voice was cutting to anyone but most of all to himself. His brutal self criticism had nearly come in the way of your betrothal, and it was something you were actively encouraging him to reduce. Particularly in this matter where he was so obviously not at fault, you would not allow him to chastise himself. You saw things from another perspective entirely.

After a moment, you spoke softly. “I think it may be your heart’s way of asking to be heard.”

Anthony scoffed. “You think I have one?” Not the reaction you wanted, but perhaps the one you should have expected. 

You pulled back to meet his eyes, arms still banded tightly around one another. When you looked at your husband, the most handsome man you had ever seen, the man who had fought for your affections and filled your life with wonder every day since he had won them, you felt nothing but certainty.

“I know you do. I have seen it.”

His features softened, brows turning up as his warm eyes grew misty. With the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, he lovingly brushed a hand along your cheek. “You have seen it?”

“Yes, and in time you will see it too.” You smiled and leaned up into his gentle kiss then returned to lay your head on his chest, trailing your fingers languidly through the dark hairs found there. “I would not have married you if you did not possess one. It is nothing to be ashamed of, Anthony.” You curled more tightly against him, pressing your ear down until you could hear the proof of it. The heart that you loved so dearly, the one bound to your own, now returned to its strong and constant cadence.

“It is beautiful. It may have some cracks, but it is still going.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton imagine #female reader #fluff and feels #romance #regency romance

[traeumenvonbuechern]

Historical Romances by Black Authors

Aphrodite wishes to escape the marriage mart but will a second chance with the elusive Duke of Everely change her mind? Aphrodite Du Bell is a diamond of the first water and a favourite of the queen. But her renowned loveliness didn't stop the love of her life, Evander Eagleman, from jilting her and marrying another woman four years ago. Aphrodite has been in self-imposed exile ever since. However, when her formidable mother summons her back to London Aphrodite has no choice but to acquiesce. Upon her return, Aphrodite learns that the newly widowed Evander is in town and, despite her best efforts, the grand society events of the season repeatedly push them together. With each encounter, Aphrodite's traitorous feelings make it perfectly clear that the Duke still holds court over her heart. Why did Evander cast Aphrodite aside all those years ago, and now that they have a second chance, can the couple make strides to mend past hurts?

Ailsa Connery has waited three long years to finally escape her enslavement at Stirling Castle and reunite with her clan. But her carefully laid plans are completely destroyed by the arrival of the infamous Highland warrior known as Dubh Mahoun, the Black Devil…who has plans of his own. Kallum MacNeill's fearsome reputation has long allowed him to keep hidden his secret double life of freeing enslaved captives across the land. It's only when he kidnaps a servant lass—quite by accident—that he finds himself facing a wee predicament. He must accompany the lass home or risk her exposing his true identity. It'd be easy enough…if the feisty hellion didn't fight him at every turn. As they make their way to the Highlands, the perils the two must face are surpassed only by their constant sparring. Soon, their heated sniping sparks heat of a totally different kind. The kind that ignites a hunger that could consume them both. Yet the difficult journey is no match for the dangerous secrets they're about to uncover.

The first novel in USA Today Bestselling Author Beverly Jenkins’s compelling new series follows a Northern woman south in the chaotic aftermath of the Civil War . . . Valinda Lacy’s mission in the steamy heart of New Orleans is to help the newly emancipated community survive and flourish. But soon she discovers that here, freedom can also mean danger. When thugs destroy the school she has set up and then target her, Valinda runs for her life—and straight into the arms of Captain Drake LeVeq. As an architect from an old New Orleans family, Drake has a deeply personal interest in rebuilding the city. Raised by strong women, he recognizes Valinda’s determination. And he can’t stop admiring—or wanting—her. But when Valinda’s father demands she return home to marry a man she doesn’t love, her daring rebellion draws Drake into an irresistible intrigue.

A fun and feminist Regency romp from a master of the genre hailed as "a delight" by Bridgerton author Julia Quinn. Nothing happens in London without Graham Wynchester knowing. His massive collection of intelligence is invaluable to his family’s mission of aiding those most in need. So when he deciphers a series of coded messages in the scandal sheets, Graham’s convinced he must come to a royal’s rescue. But his quarry turns out not to be a princess at all… The captivating Kunigunde de Heusch is anything but a damsel in distress, and the last thing she wants is Graham’s help. All her life, Kuni trained alongside the fiercest Royal Guardsmen in her family, secretly planning to become her country’s first Royal Guardswoman. This mission in London is a chance to prove herself worthy without help from a man, not even one as devilishly handsome as Graham. To her surprise, Graham believes in her dream as much as she does, which makes it harder to resist kissing him…and falling in love. But how can she risk her heart if her future lies an ocean away? 

Jane Austen meets The Princess and the Frog For as long as Prairie can remember, living in paradise has been boring. Her days are filled with helping at her family's resort, sewing, daydreaming, and observing fashionable guests from the sidelines. But when a fairytale-Esque opportunity arises, she does something out of character and agrees to marry a man she's never met. Suddenly, she's navigating a new life that is a world and an ocean away from everything she's ever known. Her new husband, Wright, is decidedly Mr. Wrong. If there's a schedule, he'll ignore it. If there is a rule, he'll break it. If there's a risk, he'll take it. Has the girl who has always had a plan finally met her match? If you're a fan of TV shows like 'Vanity Fair', 'Bridgerton' and 'The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina' or enjoy reading comedies of manners, you'll love 'That, My Dear, Is Love.' This is a full-length, standalone novel featuring a diverse ensemble cast, whimsical magic, and hilarious misadventures. This is a clean romance with a HEA. Featuring some of your favorite tropes: Marriage of Convenience Opposites Attract Reformed Rake

The Davenports delivers a totally escapist, swoon-worthy romance while offering a glimpse into a period of African American history often overlooked. The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it's 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to. There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers. Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love.

#aphrodite and the duke #j.j. mcavoy #never cross a highlander #lisa rayne #rebel #beverly jenkins #nobody's princess #erica ridley #that my dear is love #sula sullivan #the davenports #krystal marquis #bookblr #booklr #historical romance #regency romance #highlander romance #ya romance #bridgerton #queen charlotte #julia quinn #romance books #black romance

[theromanticartist]

Penelope & Colin Engagement Ball💖

Download the pack with ALL High-Resolution Watermark-Free Bridgerton illustrations for $9.99, including Romantic and Spicy Uncensored content. The pack has more than 12 high-quality finished illustrations + several drawings and painting wips + fanfics, and it’s included in the Scorching Hot tier only until the end of October. 🌹 Next month, only monthly content (decided by Patrons votes) will be available and the pack will be sold separately. I hope to see you there! 😘

Patreon.com/TheRomanticArtist

For so many years Colin has taken Penelope in his arms and danced with her in almost every ball ♥

Bridgertons Book 4 - Romancing Mr.Bridgerton by Julia Quinn

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[laurasimonsdaughter]

Miss Marianne Oliver, nineteen years old and enjoying her first summer away from home, was wholly unprepared for her first glimpse of the sea. The path that led them from the cottage to the beach was winding, climbing for a way before sloping down, and upon reaching its highest point, Marianne found herself suddenly in view of a glittering horizon and an expanse of water the likes of which she could not compare with anything she had ever beheld. She halted, mesmerised, unable to walk on.

A breeze carrying a fresh, unfamiliar scent touched her cheeks and she felt a peculiar, directionless joy she had never felt before. Who had ever imagined such a view!

“Oh Peter,” Marianne exclaimed. “Isn’t it beautiful. I must bring my watercolours next time.”

But her brother had no patience for admiring anything from afar and urged her to walk on, running ahead without waiting for an answer. “It will be better down at the water, I am sure!”

Marianne complied and continued down the path. She approached the beach with the happy solemnity that many others might bestow on a chapel, and Marianne had not walked there five minutes before declaring that there was no place she admired more. Her desire to visit Bath was all forgot, Thirrup, with its glittering waves and distant cliffs could do no wrong.

The weather, which had started fair, grew only fairer still, determined to add its lustre to the scene. Brother and sister both delighted in the sea breeze and the warming air; and while Peter spoiled his stockings by running at the advancing tides, Marianne abandoned her pelisse on a conveniently large piece of rock and let the wind muss the ribbons on her bonnet.

It was a long time before she was sensible of anything but the sky and the waves, but after a while she spied two figures walking quite some distance away. Two gentlemen, walking very close to the shoreline, whose twin, dark shapes seemed peculiarly enigmatic in the bright weather. One of the gentlemen was dressed in what she believed to be the blue coat of a naval officer, the other wore black, but both, she saw in surprise as they slowly moved in their general direction, were wearing a heavy fur cape about their shoulders. It was their capes, she realised, which had given their silhouettes their peculiarity. The two gentlemen walked as one, in perfect time with one another, seemingly not in talk but in perfect, silent agreement.

She watched them progress across the beach until one of them suddenly lifted his head and seemed to look directly at her. He was too far to discern the features of his face, but they were in full view of one another and Marianne turned hastily away, and, feeling she must say something after looking at them for so considerable a time, remarked:

“Look there! Did you ever see such a thing? Gentlemen wearing furs in summer!”

Perhaps it was a foreign custom? It was certainly a very strange one to adhere to in such fine weather, but how striking it looked.

“When I go to university,” said Peter, who had spoken of very little else since James had gone to Cambridge, “I shall wear just such boots!”

“When you go to university, you would do well to be less concerned with your boots and more with your books,” teased Marianne.

Peter paid her no mind whatsoever and having tired of running, not daring to go any nearer to the water, and knowing his sister would never be persuaded to walk into town unattended, declared that he wanted to back to the cottage. Marianne agreed with great reluctance and she hung back a little, walking slowly while her brother bounded ahead.

She had not yet reached the path, when a voice called out behind her and she turned to see, to her great confusion, the gentleman who had looked at her when walking the shoreline. He was a young man, looking rather breathless at that time, but with a pleasant, round face and the darkest eyes that Marianne had ever seen. He was holding out to her, draped over the sleeve of his black coat, her forgotten pelisse.

“Your coat, ma’am.” His voice was as pleasant as his face, and as breathless as his appearance.

“Thank you, sir!” she blushed, and as she took it back from him she noted that they were almost of a height. The fur coat, she saw, was not as bulky as she had thought; it was an almost sleek, grey-brown fur drawn close around broad shoulders.

The gentleman bowed, somewhat hastily, and quickly turned back to his companion in the Navy blue, who was standing back and looking very much amused.

“Come along, Marianne!” Peter called out from atop a great stone and Marianne, her cheeks red and her mind alive with curiosity, followed.

[Read the rest of this Regency Selkie Romance on AO3~]

#regency #regency romance #selkie #selkies #a seaside reel #laura drabbles #wlm romance #male selkie #selkie romance #historical romance

[romancedream]

Two beautiful quotes from jane Austen's books for victoriansherlolly 🔥

#sherlock ship #victorian sherlolly #sherlolly #molly x sherlock #molly hooper #sherlock holmes #sherlock #regency romance #jane austen #victorian #benedict cumberbatch #louise brealey

[forwhomtheteasteeps]

Mafia romance is Regency romance for people who like guns and cars.

Hear me out:

1. Arranged marriage trope is a big one

2. Emphasis on the bride being a young impressionable virgin

3. Strict patriarchal rules

4. The “family business “ involves extorting people out of money and property and selling illegally obtained goods (read about the East India trading company or about tenants rights in English law)

5. Fancy parties, shopping, fancy clothes

6. “I’ll buy it for you” “only the best for my wife” “I bought you this car/horse/ house because you looked at it wistfully once”

7. “Why don’t you want to stay home and be a wife and mother? Don’t you want to decorate/embroider/ host parties?”

8. Touch her and die/ duals

9. “No I don’t have a mistress anymore, I only want you”

10. Something bad happens to the woman about 85% of the way through the book forcing a rescue

11. “I know it was arranged/we were trapped/ it was convenience but now I love you.”

#regency romance #mafia romance #romance #romance novels #reading #booktok #bridgerton #pride and prejudice

[writingwithcolor]

Historical romance with Black woman, without including racism

Anonymous asked:

I write regency romance and I have a female character that I have written as having a mother who is black Antiguan and father who is white British in 1819—he’s a Viscount so they are highly placed. I want their daughter to have a typical romance arc…and that’s it. I don’t plan on making any of her problems about race or even mention it other than describing her as black and a brief backstory on how her parents met. In ignoring this aspect of her—whatever problems might have presented themselves, what conflicted feelings she might have about British white high society in that era—am I wrong? If I am wrong but still don’t want the romance to be about race and class, how to do that in a respectful way? 

Or, is it okay to tell the story of romance without race being an issue at all?

Yes, yes, and yes. And it’s not so much about ignoring any racial conflicts in the era. Although, the history and treatment of Black people was not the same in the European regions as it was in the Americas (feel free to do some research, for context).

It’s about whether the issue matters specifically to: 

your story

the specific area 

your character’s narrative

to those around her, or specifically the people she interacts with, including the lover, his relatives, friends, and so on.

And it’s okay for that answer to be no. You do not need to make racism just * not exist* but rather, not make it a matter for the people in the story. This is the case whether you write a story set in 1819 or 2025!

Black people should be allowed stories, especially with romances, that aren’t about racist conflict and being dehumanized. The regency romance genre lacks Black women protagonists in love, and BIPOC in general. And these Black women and people do not need to only be mixed race or light, either.

Steps to diversify the genre starts with just letting us exist in history without fears of being “historically inaccurate.”

As discussed many times here:

Black people existed (and exist!) in Europe, and not only as enslaved or oppressed people. 

Arguments against historical accuracy are usually only served to keep inclusion out, not to bring it in. The same historical accuracy is not called for when including fairies, ogres and dragons in historical settings. 

Therefore, if supernatural creatures can exist in this era as upper class and royalty, so can Black people, period. But again, they did! So.

Not including racism doesn’t mean ignoring reality 

Now, if one were to write a story about a Black person today and not include any racism, are they somehow doing Black people a disservice by not putting them through traumas and racism they already face on a regular basis? I would say absolutely not. In fact, it’s what I personally go for. Escapism should exist for us too. These heavy-hearted books have their place and can be sought out if desired. 

Colorblindness

On the same note, colorblindness is not ideal. You mention that you’ll still describe the characters, which is good. But being Black or another race or ethnicity, but leaving out the anti and ‘isms doesn’t mean you’re removing an essential part of them. A welcome part of representation is to acknowledge their looks, culture, food, languages…aka the things that make them who they are. The narrative doesn’t need to obsess over differences, but simply accept them as natural. 

Some people have this fear of race. As if to talk about, mention or even notice race is to be racist. “Black” is a whispered word. 

Avoid all talk of “despite of race” or “not seeing race” because that’s 

1) simply not true and is 

2) another form of racist erasure. 

We can see and acknowledge differences between you and me. And they can simply be embraced and accepted, not ignored.

Ways to acknowledge diversity without racism in romance

There are many ways to do this. Here are just some ideas, some vague and some specific. 

Describe and mention the character’s looks

Include physical descriptions of your character’s race. Whether you show or tell, you should make it clear that they’re Black, or the given race you’re writing. It doesn’t have to be a big deal for the plot. It should be something that is at least apparent to readers. Without clear indication, the character will likely be seen as white. Book covers help avoid this white-as-default assumption, too.

You can thread descriptions and reminders, short or longer, throughout the story.

Examples

She had rich brown skin and even darker brown eyes. I lost my breath when she tucked her chin, only to bat her heavy lashes my way.

Thick curls spilled around her face, black coils against golden brown skin.

I attribute my looks to my Antiguan roots - dark brown skin, umber eyes, and a small, rounded nose - all traits that I got from my mother. 

She tucked a thick coil under her bonnet

Comparisons also work, particularly if the people are not used to seeing people of this race. Now, these comparisons should not be about exalting one race or putting down the other group(s). Pointing out differences does not need to be a battle of what or who is better looking.

More examples

Lance couldn’t keep his eyes off of the beautiful woman stepping off of the boat. Her skin held a warm brown hue. He’d never seen skin this rich in color – all of his friends and neighbors were pale or only slightly tanned from the sun.

She had dark skin, her brown shade much deeper in tone than the other humans he had met so far on his ventures through space.

Her brown skin, black hair and dark eyes contrasted with those of the pale, blonde women in the room.

“I hear the Duke is courting that young Moorish woman.” “The woman’s name is Emilia Watson,” Sarah said, resolutely.

He admired the stark contrast of their skin, brown and white, as they walked hand in hand.

Add culture, not racism

Culture is many, many things. So there’s many ways to show hints of it throughout the story. 

Consider things like:

Food

Holidays

Clothing

Religion, beliefs, myths

Language, phrases

Mannerisms, values and habits

Superstitions

Family roles

Traditions and customs

Art

Food

A special mention to food, but perhaps because I’m hungry writing this. Food can be culture, and a very important part of it, I think it’s also an easy and fun way to incorporate it into a story, without needing to mention racism.

Examples

The characters makes her partner or the family a traditional dish. He / they could also share their favorites with her.

She shows him how to make a dish passed down throughout the family. 

Something she makes him is so spicy that he runs to find water for relief, which could be a funny and cute moment.

They celebrate a special holiday or tradition by making a meal together.

They visit a market that sells food or produce from her homeland that they try and enjoy.

In summary

Please feel free to write historical romances with BIPOC, minus the racism. I promise that there’s an audience for it!

More reading

Wealthy Black character in historical romance, written by white author

(1800s Western) non-racist White characters interacting with Black and Native people

Historical American Fiction without the Racism

FAQ - “It wouldn’t be historically accurate for my story to include BiPoC.” 

Praising Beauty Without Fetishizing PoC 

~Mod Colette

P.S. If anyone has some good diverse regency romances with WOC, please drop those recommendations. I’m always trying to find more to read! 

#Black #black characters #historical romance #regency #regency romance #escapism #asks

[starchaserdreams]

I told my friend she could read what I was working on because it's a regency au and she liked the last regency thing I wrote

But then I read it back

And it is waaaaay too marauders

It might be too queer for marauders fans even (I took some risks and idk how they'll go over)

And now I'm like

My very normal very straight friend has never quite seen this side of me and I don't think it's a good idea anymore

But I already told her yes

So like

HELP

#marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #starchaser #jegulus #sunseeker #regulus black #james potter #sirius black #wolfstar #by “risks” i mean that the wolfstar plot goes in a very non traditional direction for regency fiction #like #i don't think it's that impossible #but it's certainly not something that's written #regency au #regency romance #starchaser fanfiction #jegulus fanfiction #marauders fanfiction

[whereismydreamcastle]

#belle epoque #princess #princesscore #soft #softcore #dreamy #angelic #phantom of the opera #angel #alice in the wonderland #jane austen aesthetic #jane austen #regency romance #regency period #regency aesthetic #jane eyre #romantic academia #light academia

[theboarsbride]

Rough doodles of Tamlyne, Elspeth, and Elspeth’s dog Scotty from my regency romantasy retelling of the Ballad of Tam Lin

(Tamlyne has a human disguise named “Thomas Lynne” that he uses so that he can take part of the London season and find a wife whose marriage can free him from an engagement to another fae)

#regency romance #romantasy #fae #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend

[sailor-hufflepuff]

To tell the truth, for me the appeal of the Regency Romance Genre is something like:

-5% a single man in possession of a good fortune

-35% pretty dresses and bonnets and parasols

-60% a society with actual codified rules, that everyone knows and is taught, and never having to guess what the appropriate thing to say or do to not get labeled a Weirdo Who Can’t Have Normal Conversation. I would ROCK an interaction where I had a specific list of topics and duration of time, underpinned by how much I am allowed to share or not share about my personal life based on our relationship.

#regency #regency romance #romance #romance genre #bridgerton #Jane Austin #pride and prejudice #autism life #society #how to human

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Touch: The Following Autumn (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Rated/warning: 18+, whump, depiction of difficult childbirth Word Count: 2.4k

Masterpost Previous part Next part

Summary: Benedict holds you through the birth of your first child.

Benedict’s grasp is the only thing keeping you hanging on. The only thing you are trying to focus on as the rest of your body feels like it is being ripped apart. You have never known so much pain, such bone-deep, gnawing pain, and that it has gone on for eighteen hours is incomprehensible. But you are still conscious, and you are still fighting, because he needs you to. Because they both need you to.

He sits at your bedside, your hands clasped together so tightly for so long, they have both gone white and you can’t feel your fingers anymore. That is the least of your concerns as another contraction surges through you and you groan, worn too tired to scream anymore. You lean into your husband, your free hand clinging to him wherever you can grasp - his hair, his neck, the sleeve of his shirt. You claw at him as you fight for a shuddering inhale, the wave of pain feeling as if it can drown you.

He presses his lips to your forehead, his face desperately tired and pale too. “My darling,” he whispers. “Oh my love.” He has run out of the energy or creativity to say anything more. Not that he needs to. You just need to feel him close by.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” the surgeon looks up from the sheet spread across your knees. “You must continue to push.” His voice is stern, but there is an undercurrent of sympathy. No one in this room thinks you are weak. They have all been with you, watching you suffer for nearly an entire day. 

You nod limply, trying to find your breath as Benedict smooths your hair back from your sweaty face with his free hand. On the opposite side of the bed, Violet leans in with a cool cloth and presses it to your neck. They are the only family members with you. Your parents were waylaid by bad weather on their return from the Continent, and will miss the birth of their first grandchild.

You just want to fall apart. You want to sink back into the pillows and grant yourself some rest. You felt your strength give out hours ago, but somehow you are still here, trembling, pushing with whatever mild response your muscles will give you, to help your child into the world. The fear is growing that they may be stillborn. Your water broke so long ago and they have been stuck in your body. But you refuse to give into despair, and you swear you can still feel them, straining within you, doing their part to break free. 

Now the surgeon is telling you to push. You don’t know what energy you are supposed to push with. There is none left in your body, none at all. The only place you can feel it is in Benedict’s hands, numb though your fingers are. There is strength in him, strength in your love, strength in your desire to meet your child. You will have to draw on that. It is all you have. 

Gritting your teeth and leaning into Benedict’s shoulder, you grate out a scream and try to channel everything you feel from him, down to your baby. It’s piercing, the ache you feel along your legs, down your spine, and all through your hips. You feel as if your bones are made of blades. You push with your body and your soul, anything you can offer, and collapse back against the pillows, breathing hard.

“Another,” The dreadful command from the foot of the bed makes you whimper. 

Dear god, you can’t. Your shoulders start to shake with tiny sobs that produce no tears. Benedict leans over you, never releasing your hand, caressing your forehead.

“I can’t,” you gasp, “Ben…I’m sorry…I can’t.” 

The fear in his eyes is palpable. His face is haggard, shadowed with stubble. He swallows hard, searching your face, desperately questing for what to say. 

Violet squeezes your arm beside you and you turn to look at her, now more grateful than ever that she is here. She is the only one who can truly understand what you are feeling. Her eyes are glistening with tears but burning with resolve simultaneously. 

“Y/n, dearest, you must let your mind go.” You stare back at her, confused. She presses on, her voice tight. “The pain exists only in your mind. Your body is always strong enough to do what it must. It is only your mind that is struggling.” Her words sink in, somehow making sense. She nods at you in encouragement. “Wait for the next contraction, and let your body push, but your mind must go.”

You give her the barest nod, your breath growing shallow, then turn back to look at Benedict above you. If there is anywhere that you can lose yourself, it’s into his silvery eyes, even though they are now filled with panic. 

He heard his mother. Intuitively, he knows what you are trying to do. He holds the side of your face, slender fingers framing your ear, and lowers to rest his forehead against yours. 

“Y/n,” he breathes. “Do you remember the snowstorm two years ago?” 

You lock into his eyes, trying to transport yourself back into memories, to leave your body behind you to work without your mind’s interference. You nod slightly against him, breathing hard and shallow through your nose.

“You were the reason I didn’t finish that damn landscape.” A small grin tugs at his lips. “I was going outside to paint but then I saw you with my family, having as much fun as the children. You were so beautiful, so carefree and strong. I had to get to know you. So I abandoned the painting and joined in.”

Your mind is beginning to float back. Entranced with the kaleidoscope of his irises, you remembered that cold day, the sting of the snow against your exposed wrists, the squeals of laughter from everyone involved.

“It turned out to be the right decision because the next day you walked straight into my arms in front of my easel.” 

You would grin at his cheekiness, but even your face has grown sore at this point.

“And from then on, you made me fall deeper and deeper. The whole season in London, I could barely breathe around you.” 

Light dances in his eyes, the same way it had when he would laugh with you on a promenade, or slip you a flute of champagne with a wink. 

“All I wanted was to be close to you. To hold you in my arms. I wanted it badly enough that I forced myself to dance with you. It was the only way I could feel you without causing a scandal.”

You remember the night of the Cowper ball, the heat and insistence of his grasp. You never allowed yourself to hope that it was desire, or that it was love. But it had been. He had loved you as long as you had loved him. A warm buoyancy starts to grow in your exhausted chest. You are always moved by the depth of your husband’s affection, but to hear him narrate your love story as he experienced it, is overwhelmingly beautiful.

He continues, his words whispering across your face. “Then once I had held you, I knew I needed to hold you for the rest of my life. I knew I had to marry you.”

You feel the familiar, horrible clench of pain start to notch up your spine; another contraction heaving its way through your body. A strangled noise rises from the back of your throat and Benedict releases your hand at last, bringing both of his to grip your shoulders. You cling back to him, scrabbling to clutch his arms, breathing faster.

Violet is beside you both, offering soothing words of encouragement, but they are lost to your ears. You try to do as she said, to separate your mind from your body, and stay lost in Benedict’s eyes. He keeps his face above yours, never pulling away, as you feel your body start to bear down and arc against the pillows.

“Y/n,” He raises his voice, commanding your attention. “I will always be here to hold you. Darling, you are not alone in this.”

You can feel the pain, gripping and searing, but fight to concentrate on Benedict and nothing else. The warm light in your chest continues to grow, becoming a gauzy barrier between your thoughts and the agony of your muscles. Staring into his eyes, their grey fractals envelop you, and you feel yourself start to push.

You must do this. You want to do this. Whatever it takes to bring your child into the world, to make Benedict a father and see his face light with a smile once more. Everything in your body rushes downward and you dig your fingers into his arms but he never wavers. You can’t help from shouting behind your gnashing teeth, keening against him. Then there is a shift, and pressure. Immense, weighted pressure builds at your center, knocking you breathless.

“The head is out!” The surgeon calls excitedly from below. 

Benedict breaks your gaze to look back at him, then turns to you with eyes full of hope. Now the end is in sight.

“One more, Mrs. Bridgerton.” The surgeon instructs. “Last one.”

You’re not sure if your lungs work anymore. Your body feels completely beyond your control. The pressure is so intense, dark spots threaten the edges of your vision and you blink to keep from swooning. Benedict must sense this, because he takes your face in both of his hands and calls to you, gently but insistently.

“My love, she is nearly here. Our baby. Just one more and we will finally hold her.” There is an urgency in his voice, a blend of concern and excitement. “You must push, my love. Not because I am asking you to, but because she is ready to join the world.”

You look up at him, your eyes glazed as you pant desperately. His own eyes are brimming with tears. He is longing for a daughter, convinced that your baby would be a girl from the very day you told him you were with child. You had insisted it would be a boy, more to toy with him than anything else, and in a moment, one of you will be proven victorious. But only if you can muster yourself for one last attempt.

The energy in the room has changed. There is a buzz of joy threatening to erupt from under the agony of your extended labor. The warmth in your chest surges. Benedict says not to push for his sake, but you are going to. It is your love for him that is the source of all your strength. You wrap your arms around his neck and lock your eyes on his once more. There, you see your past, your future, your very soul reflected back at you. You remember every glance, every kiss, every display of passion that has filled your life with such bliss over the past two years. His large hands, steady on either side of your face, burn into your skin with memories of every touch, every time your fingers brushed, or clasped, or entwined, every time you held or were held.

The warmth in your chest has grown as intense as the pressure in your hips, and you go rigid, straining your whole body to will it downward, eyes clenching shut and mouth open in a silent scream as you pour every last ounce of yourself into the effort. All you can hear is the blood in your ears, and all you can feel is the press of your husband’s hands as the rest of your body becomes nothing but pressure. You worry you may burst, or slip into the darkness at the edge of your mind.

But then there is release. The pressure gives way and everything moves and the air comes rushing back into your lungs. Everyone is talking, exclaiming, but your mind is too fuzzy to make out what they are saying. Then you hear it - a cry. Strong and loud, your baby’s cry calls you back to your senses and you open your eyes.

Above you, Benedict is weeping and he falls into you, clutching you against him as he laughs into your neck, then peppers your face with kisses. A wave of euphoria casts over you, despite the weariness of your body, and you smile, raking your fingers through his hair. Everything is moving quickly. You hear Violet praising you nearby. The baby’s cry continues somewhere in the room. 

Then a nursemaid approaches and lays a small bundle into your arms with a smile. “It is a girl.”

Benedict nearly cackles with joy. Suddenly, you are alert and aware, arms filled with all the strength they need to hold your child and never let go. Benedict nestles in beside you on the bed, lifting you to sit up in his arms. The fussy cries sound from the little blanket as you both peer in and see a round-cheeked, red little face under a shock of matted dark hair, squirming with clenched fists and scrunched eyes. Benedict reaches out and runs a slender finger through the wispy hair, and she falls quiet. Then her grey eyes open, focusing on you both and assessing you curiously. 

She is her father’s daughter, a Bridgerton through and through. Violet perches beside the bed, blinking away happy tears. You smile at her, appreciating how she was able to do this so many times, including bringing Benedict into the world. You want to repay her for such a gift, and you know that you will take Benedict’s suggestion and name your daughter after her.

You turn back to your baby, watching Benedict caress her tiny pink fingers with two of his own. You can already see that he is desperately in love, and you know that you are in for the best kind of trouble. You have never felt such happiness, such contentment, as you do in this moment. You lean into him, beaming smiles on both of your faces.

You are encapsulated in warmth, marveling at how his arms encircle and bind you all together; you, your husband, and the life you have created out of pure love. Your family, your entire world, kept safe within his hold.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @mysticwitchcraftco

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #female reader #regency #regency era #regency romance #light whump

[powerupcomicstonight]

#Abbeycourt Manor #Powerup Comics #Fanny has taken ill #Cherry pie #disease #Regency romance

[alexa-santi-author]

Why the "Regency Era" is a fantasy realm

I've seen some interesting discussions back and forth about making historical fiction and particularly historical romance more inclusive, and I do think that there's some merit to the argument that merely inserting BIPOC as part of the ruling class erases many of the historic struggles people went through in terms of both class and race.

However, there's something that people don't seem to realize when it comes to the Regency Era: it's a fantasy realm that was primarily created by a single author.

Just as J.R.R. Tolkien published his Lord of the Rings books and created a world that would loom over the fantasy genre for decades to come, Georgette Heyer created the Regency Era in a way that I think people looking at the romance genre from the outside don't really understand.

Heyer wrote several historical romances and mystery novels prior to 1935, but it was with Regency Buck that she introduced her version of the Regency Era, a version that has actually been far more influential in popular culture than that of Jane Austen. (Most of the Austen adaptations pull more from Heyer than people realize, especially in terms of manners.) Heyer's world is all polite society heroes with a stiff upper lip and perhaps a tinge of rakishness, spirited yet virginal heroines, and a cast of supporting characters that range from younger brothers to elderly aunts.

There are very few hints that anyone outside the aristocracy is of any consequence, or even knows how to behave themselves, even when the middle-class daughter of a rich "Cit" marries an impoverished aristocrat in A Civil Contract. Sex exists, but only behind firmly closed doors and, for the heroines, only after marriage.

And what about the minorities that we know lived in Great Britain during the Regency Era? Not just the racial minorities that included Black citizens and former slaves as well as Indian immigrants, but also religious minorities? They pretty much don't exist in Heyer's world, apart from a few anti-Semitic stereotypes of rapacious Jewish moneylenders that make modern readers cringe when they stumble across an unbowdlerized edition. There are a few jokes and whispers about "unmanly" men, but that's about it for LGBTQIA+ representation as well.

Given what we now know about the Regency Era -- and we know a lot more than Heyer did when she was writing almost a hundred years ago -- we know that her view of Regency society was as artificial as Tolkien's world. Despite her use of historical sources, her romance novels are set in a fantasy world that melds the fashions and historical events of the Regency with the Victorian morals and mores that Heyer herself was raised with. The Regency Era was the late Georgian Era and was far more vulgar and free-wheeling than Heyer was willing to admit. She left out the people who didn't fit into her vision of the Regency, which showed an Anglo-Saxon ruling class that deserved to rule because of their natural superiority.

So my opinion about TV shows and films like Bridgerton and Mr. Malcolm's List that show an inclusive aristocracy in the Regency Era is ... well, it's all fantasy anyway, isn't it? Why not make the fantasy inclusive since the whole era is Heyer's illusion dressed up with a few historical details?

And if you want to try and argue that Heyer was historically accurate about everything, be prepared: I have sources that Heyer either ignored or did not have available to her. Look up Benjamin Silliman's 1803 journal of his trip to Great Britain sometime.

#mr malcolm’s list #historical romance #regency romance #historical romantic fiction #romance genre #diverse romance #bridgerton #georgette heyer