The Hoyden and the Revolution by Diane Scott Lewis

Last month I interviewed the mysterious Welshman, Derek Pritchard, who spies for the British during the American Revolution. Today we'll talk to Rowena Marsh, the leading lady and his possible love interest. When my novel, Her Vanquished Land, opens, Rowena is nearly eighteen and her father is being tarred and feathered.

Rowena, your family's stubbornness to remain with the King has caused them to be persecuted. Why choose this side and not the Patriot's?

"My poor father!" Rowena sits quickly; her brown curls bounce. She isn't beautiful but radiates a determined spirit. "He believes we can't survive without the support of England. And I too can't fathom how these rebels will be able to form a new country. But by the by, we should be allowed our own choices."

The Patriots have hanged the Loyalists for not joining them. And burned their homes. Aren't you afraid?

"It is terrible. We're worried our farm will be confiscated...if not burned. But how do you change your loyalties? I understand the high taxes from England are wrong; that's what we should fight to eliminate."

Are you joining the fight?

"I have to. But since women aren't allowed to be soldiers, I dress as a boy." She arranges her long skirt and petticoat as if it offends her. "Other women on both sides have done this. I've decoded messages in ancient Greek stolen from the rebels. I've done well to aid our side, though my aunt calls me a hoyden."

Have you seen battle?

"Yes and it was horrible. For both the Loyalists and Rebels. I've been captured, but I escaped." She turns her head away. "The second time, with the help of Derec."

Ah, the handsome Welshman. How close are the two of you?

Rowena's freckled cheeks flush. She raises her chin. "His presence has stirred feelings in me. But he's a man on a mission and has little time for...love. I may be a hoyden but I'm not a light-skirt."

With the rebels finding more successes, what will you do now?

"I don't know if my family has a future in America anymore. And...I often think of Derec as we flee to safety. I'm now tired of war. I want a home and family, and a husband who appreciates my strength." She sighs, more frustrated than sad. "Major battles are to come, and I will join in if needed. But will there be hope for us?"

Purchase Her Vanquished Land and my other novels at BWL
For more info on me and my books, check out my website: Dianescottlewis

Diane Scott Lewis lives in Western Pennsylvania with her husband and one naughty puppy.

The Mysterious Derec Pritchard by Diane Scott Lewis

For my Revolutionary War adventure, Her Vanquished Land, my main male character is a Welshman with a dark past. Let's find out more about Derec Pritchard with a Character Interview:

 

 

Derec, the Welsh don't care much fore the English, why do you spy for their cause?

The tall, lanky man took a chair. "Aye, I needed money, and to leave Wales after an...incident with my step-father, a horrible man."

An incident?

"He used his fists on my mum." His black eyes above sharp cheekbones burned fiercely. "I had to stab him, not to death mind. But scared him off. Now I send her money to keep her from being evicted."

I see. That was awful for you and your mother. What are your duties is the spying business?

"Code breaking. Stopping messengers, taking their satchels." He pushed back his three-cornered hat. "Sending the information to the British generals."

Is that how you met Miss Marsh?

"Not exactly. She's a hoyden, that one." A smile creased his face. "Dressed as a boy, said her name was Rowland. But I found out it's Rowena."

What did you think of Rowena?

"Thought her in the way at first. But then she was able to decode the new code in ancient Greek from the rebels." He nodded slowly. "An asset."

Are you attracted to her?
"Wasn't." Derec shifted in the wooden chair. "Never bothered with a lasting relationship with a woman, and she was still a girl. Barely eighteen."
But she grew on you...?
"Aye, I must admit, her bravery and stubbornness impressed me. I still resisted. I didn't want to be tied down."
Did she convince you to start a relationship?
"That's not her way. No flirt, that one. Besides, I don't want to settle down in one place. Women want that."
So you'll--
"I must continue my duties to the Crown." He squared his shoulders in his dark frock coat. "The rebels grow stronger, winning more battles. The British troops are stretched thin." His voice softened. "Rowena has left with her family to find safety."

Then there's no happy ending?

"We will see. First, I must join the fight, which could be the death of me." Derec stood and strode from the room.

 



  

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For more information on me and my books, visit my website: Diane Scott Lewis

 

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for an on-line publisher, and wrote book reviews for the Historical Novel Society. She lives with her husband and one naughty puppy in Western Pennsylvania.

 

The first National Thanksgiving, York, PA, by Diane Scott Lewis

Although Thanksgiving can be traced back to 1621 at Plymouth Colony in Massachusetts, I was surprised to find that the first "Official" celebration was held in York, Pennsylvania in 1777.  The British had captured Philadelphia, pushing the Continental Congress out of that city. The Patriots fled west to York, a sleepy farm town populated mostly by Germans.

When the rebel General Gates defeated the British at Saratoga, the tide turned, and the exiles held a celebration, passing a resolution for a feast to be held, to honor the victory, on Dec. 18th. Hardly the date we use today. It's doubtful they had turkey or stuffing, and with limited resources, even enjoyed a hearty meal. But it showed the new government's growing strength in this establishment of the holiday.

The gathering was somber, with prayers of thanks, and might have included German (Pennsylvania Dutch) dishes. If they were fortunate, they ate Schnitz un Knepp: apple dumplings. Spaetzle: noodles and dumplings. Or Gumbis: a casserole of meat, onions, and dried fruit.

My novel, Her Vanquished Land, is set in Pennsylvania during the American Revolution, told from a different perspective. Rowena has little time to celebrate Thanksgiving as the rebels close in to plunder her home and life. Her family are Loyalists, the people who thought it was insane to fight for independence; the people who stayed loyal to England and the King. They believed they were on the right side. Tarred and Feathered, even hanged, they kept their loyalty and as a result were chased from the new United States. Many settled in Canada.

I threw in a thwarted love story as well, a Welshman who spies for the British, who captures Rowena's hoydenish heart. However, he harbors his own secrets and may have no need for her confused (to her) affection. Will they survive the war and find love?

The Loyalist side of our American history is seldom told, but it is an interesting part of the development of North America.

 

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For more information on me and my books, visit my website: Diane Scott Lewis

 

Diane Scott Lewis grew up in California, traveled the world with the navy, edited for an on-line publisher, and wrote book reviews for the Historical Novel Society. She lives with her husband and one naughty puppy in Western Pennsylvania.

 

99 Cent Sale--HAND-ME-DOWN BRIDE

 

If you are a fan of traditional love-stories with a genuine, old-time, rural setting, check out Hand-me-Down Bride. Meet the Wildbach's, both the schemers and the dreamers, and take a cool evening walk alongside the mill pond...

 

Judge Markham sat at his desk.  George Wildbach faced him across the mahogany surface.  A bottle stood between them.  It was the finest Kentucky bourbon, meant for sipping.

The Judge poured.  Then, ceremoniously, the two men raised their glasses.

"A good day's work, son." It was not just a figure of speech.  George's wife had been born Sally Markham.  The union had made kin of the two sharpest dealers in the county.

"I don't know how I can thank you, sir." 

"Just doing the right thing, m'boy."  The Judge's spectacles were misty with emotion.  "You've been a fine husband to my little Sally, and now there's Teddy and the girls.  They come first."

"To think! Just because Papa died so suddenly, Ilga Bullmaster and her niece would have waltzed off with $2,000 next week, skimmed right off the top."

"Well, with both wills in my file and the witnesses in my pocket, it was easy enough."

"A damned handsome girl," George took a meditative sip.  Oddly, he felt a little sorry for Sophie.  She seemed quite innocent, although Heaven knew that conniving Ilga was not.

"Forgive me for being candid, George, but nothing less than handsome would have suited your father.  He was a man of the most informed taste.  Ilga had the good sense to offer him a rose as perfect as any in his garden."

The Judge paused to splash more whiskey into George's glass.  "It's just good business," he declared, "not to let money get away from the family. Real family, that is."

George drank the second shot neat and then shook his head in an attempt to clear it.  He wasn't accustomed to drinking so early in the day, nor was he accustomed to downright larceny. Theft which could be performed under cover of law, like foreclosing on that shiftless Washington McNally a few years back, well, that was one thing!  To "lose" a signed and witnessed codicil was something else...

 

  

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