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I thought if I wanted to highlight my Viking romance
while promoting Sophie’s Choice, Book One of my Regency series, The Ladies of
Harrington House set in Cornwall, England, I had better find a link between the
two. And sure enough I found it.
Although we tend to think of Cornwall as being
in the far west, 1000 years ago Vikings traveling down the Irish Sea considered Cornwall a central gathering point. From here ships sailed to the south
of England or across the English Channel to Frankia. They raided often for
example attacking the monastery at Padstow in 980 and in 997 sailing up the
Tamar river to attack the abbey at Tavistock.
However, they also traded as actively in the area as they did in the
Loire and the Seine valleys. The Orkney sagas indicate that the Vikings used
the Isles of Scilly just off the Cornish coast as a base. Lundy, the island in
the Bristol Channel, is an Old Norse word for Puffin Island which also proves
the Viking route.
There’s not a lot of archaeological evidence
of the Vikings in Cornwall – a few sculptures with Scandinavian art motifs such
as the cross at Cardinham in East Cornwall on the edge of Bodmin Moor which is
similar to works from
the Viking age in northern England. Common in Cornwall are “hogback” stone sculptures
thought to be grave markers. They’re not found in Scandinavia and are believed
to have been invented by Viking settlers in England. They have a pronounced
ridge and look like a small stone long house like Lanivet near Bodmin. They may
have been the work of itinerant sculptors and it’s a strong possibility the
patrons may have been Scandinavian settlers. (Below is a cast of a 10th C hogback stone from Govan Old Parish Church in the Kelvin Grove Art Gallery and Museum in Glascow.)
However, people searching in the West Country over the past few
years are discovering increasing numbers of metal objects from the period such
as Viking dress-fittings, lead weights, coins and silver ingots. Also all
manner of gear for horses which strikes me as odd because I mostly associate Vikings with long ships!
Later during Viking times Cornwall was allowed to continue as an independent nation as long as they paid danegeld to the Kings of Denmark. If you're interested in learning more about the Vikings in Cornwall, you might like to check out the following websites:uth-wst were not
immune from the
atD,
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If you've been following my blog posts on the 25th of every month, you know I've been including excerpts from Sophie's Choice, coming in April. Here's the next one!
“Oh, I
assure you, Lady Sophie, I find none of your skills lacking. You ride admirably
well, your voice is lovely and it’s obvious you’re not one to kowtow to
society’s rules.” The scamp. Again he referred to their unexpected meeting
earlier today.
“By your comments, you demonstrate you are not
one to follow proper etiquette,” she sniffed.
He chuckled and poured himself another glass
of wine. “What is proper etiquette far from the madding crowd? We comport
ourselves as we see fit for the occasion, do we not?”
“Far from the madding crowd? Do you favour the
works of Thomas Gray?” She cocked her head and dared look at him full on. So
much for being the coquette. Why should that comment surprise her? As a
barrister, he would be a man of letters.
He blinked, whether from surprise at her
question or her bold stare she didn’t know. “You’re familiar with his poem,
“Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard?””
“Why does that astonish you?” She finally let
go of the table and reached for the wine.
“May I?” He leaned past her and snagged a
glass for her. He pointed towards the red wine and at her nod, poured.
She caught the fruity aroma as he handed her
the wine and her head spun. Since when did the fragrance wine affect her? When
Lord Bryce Langdon handed it to her, that’s when.
“You haven’t answered me,” he said. “About the
poem.”
“I do enjoy reading a well written poem,” she
began. “Because I enjoy time well spent in my father’s library with a good book
of poetry. Shakespeare for one, although that may not be considered pure
poetry. Lord Byron. Percy Shelley.”
“Since when do you enjoy poetry?” Leah
interrupted. She’d made her way over to stand on the other side of Bryce at the
table. “You never comment favorably on what I write.” Her sister flicked open
her fan and gazed at him above the lacy edge.
Sophie ground her teeth at the blatant
adoration in her sister’s eyes. “I dare say there’s a fair discrepancy between
what Gray and Byron write and what you consider poetry.”
“We shall let Lord Langdon be the judge, then,
shall we not? It’s almost time for me to read aloud my work and we shall ask.”
She fluttered her eye lashes at Bryce, who appeared not to notice.
If Leah batted her eye lashes one more time,
Sophie thought, she would bat her sister right out of the room. She’d not stoop
to arguing with her in front of Bryce Langdon, though. Instead, she fixed her gaze
on her sister and glared. Her sister had the grace to blush; she looked away.
Good. Maybe the minx finally realized her behaviour was totally beyond the
pale.
“Which I most assuredly look forward to,” said
Langdon. A smile hovered over his lips and he clamped his mouth as if to ward
it off. “If you ladies shall excuse me, I’ll return to my seat.” He bowed and
walked away.
“Really, Leah, must you be so forward? Mama
will be having fits over your actions tonight.” Sophie shook her head.
“You’re jealous because he favours me. Did you
see the look on his face when I mentioned I wrote poetry? Nothing but
admiration.” Leah flounced off.
Lady Harrington stood and raised a hand.
“Attention all, shall we continue with our program?” At the murmurs of assent,
she waved Leah over to the music stand by the pianoforte, who flipped through
the sheaf of papers on the stand.
“My poem is not here,” she said. “I left it
here earlier.” She glowered at Sophie. “What have you done with it?”
“Oh my, you must search again. It was there
when I finished my piece,” Sophie insisted.
“Lord Langdon, perhaps you could help me
search?” Leah cast a beseeching look towards him.
Bryce frowned and he rubbed his hand along his
jaw, uncomfortable with the request.
“Come Leah, there’s no need to bother our
guest,” said Lady Harrington. “Sophie, perhaps you misplaced it.”
I did not. Leah is playing another one of her
tricks. “Let me look.” Someone snickered. Bryce, perhaps? Sophie hoped not. She
could smack Leah for her antics this evening, how childish he must find the two
of them. At least Catherine had retired to a chair by the window and kept out
of it. She watched the proceedings with an innocent look on her face, no doubt
enjoying the spectacle being put on by Leah.
Sophie made her way to the stand. “It’s here,
you ninnywit,” she whispered to Leah, pulling the sheets of poetry from beneath
the music. Sophie raised her voice. “No harm, it’s here. Leah must have missed
it in her fluster to read for our company.”
She turned to find a seat; Bryce gestured to
the chair beside him, the one on which Leah had sat. Turnabout is fair play,
she thought. She glanced at Leah. Her sister’s eyes popped from her head and
she looked about to have a fit. Watch me, thought Sophie, watch how a lady
comports herself for a gentleman. Although earlier today, he’d implied
otherwise and perhaps he had a point seeing as how he had found her bare foot
and bare headed. Nonetheless, this evening she would conduct herself beyond
reproach and worthy of mention in the pages of WHAT. Bryce rose and offered his
hand. She lowered her gaze, placed one hand in his, collected her skirts with
the other and sat down.
“Have I mentioned how delightful you look this
evening?” When she shot him a glance, he quirked a dark eyebrow.
“I thought you preferred my attire of this
afternoon.”
He chuckled at her sharp rejoinder. “Ah, but
there’s nothing more lovely than a lady in her evening dress. But yes, you
looked delightful earlier. I daresay there’s not a moment you don’t look
utterly delightful.”
She flushed at the compliment and looked away.
“You are too kind.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his hands on his
thighs. Firm hands, manicured, a bit tanned. He didn’t spend all his time
inside ensconced with his books then. She flapped open her fan and peeked at
him from behind the safety of the printed silk. She sat up straight, folded her
fan, and put her hands in her lap. This is how a proper lady sat.
She hoped he noticed.
So conscious of his presence was she, she
heard none of Leah’s poetry. Not that it mattered, she’d heard those three
particular poems many times before. Leah tried but her poetry tended to be
quite insipid.
Instead, she could only hear the man beside
her – the sough of his breath, slow and steady. The occasional creak of his
chair as he shifted position. The tap of his boot on the parquet floor. He
leaned down to brush something off his pantaloon and she lifted her nose to
catch his scent, a whiff of leather and citrus. So crisp, so masculine, so –
enticing.
Leah finished her recitation and Lady
Harrington stood, waiting for the applause to die down before saying anything.
“Thank you, Leah, that was utterly charming. Now, if all of you could follow
me, supper is served. Leah, you and Catherine shall pair.”
“Oh,” Leah pouted. “I had thought to ask Lord
Langdon his opinion on my poetry.” She threw a pleading look towards Bryce that
made Sophie want to vomit.
“That is quite enough, Leah,” said Lady
Harrington. She looked at Bryce. “I must apologize for my daughter’s outspoken
ways.”
“If I may, I found the reading most
agreeable,” said their guest, oozing politeness. “Lady Leah is indeed a young
lady of talent.” Leah preened herself at Bryce’s words and darted a victorious
glance in Sophie’s direction. She made a move towards Langdon but one glance
from her mother convinced her otherwise and with a shake of the head, she
linked her arm with Catherine’s.
Despite Leah’s best attempts and to Sophie’s
delight, she found herself paired with Bryce.
“Do you enjoy yourself?” Sophie managed to
whisper as they made their way to the dining room. “You must find us bumpkins.”
“Not at all,” he murmured. “I am flattered to
find myself considered a prize worth pursuing.” This time a smile spread fully
across his lips, brightening his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.
So, he had noticed Leah’s behaviour because
Leah evidently considered him worth pursuing. However, had he noticed Sophie
sitting beside him? Had he been as aware of her as she had been of him?
“I would think many have thought of you as a
prize?” A prying question, to be sure and she astonished herself with her
boldness. “I must ask, what game do you think we play, sir, that you are the
end reward?”
“A game of your choosing.” He inclined his
head. “As far as the spoils going to the victor, I suppose some may think me a
good catch but it seems to me the attraction must go both ways for any union to
be successful. Do you agree?”
Oh my, now who asked the bold question? She
looked up at him and his eyes were on her, intent on her answer.
“Why yes. One need only look to my parents to
see the proof of that.”
He handed her off and maneuvered past the
chairs to his place at the far end of the table. Just as well they didn’t sit
together, she was sure she couldn’t eat a bite if he were beside or directly
across from her.
But almost every time she looked up, his eyes
were on her. And if they weren’t, within a second or two they were, as if he
could feel her gaze.
Her stomach fluttered with nerves and
excitement at his perusal. It didn’t help her appetite but it helped with her
self confidence. He gazed at her.
Not Leah.
Her.
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