The Ship's Captain - Master of a Wooden World by A.M.Westerling

Sophie's Choice, Book 1 of The Ladies of Harrington House is available at all your favorite online stores HERE.

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I tend to write a lot about sailing ships, captains and sea voyages. I don’t know why other than I do love the ocean and I think it has something to do with living in a landlocked city. Plus life at sea during the Regency era strikes me as being quite romantic although I’m sure the reality is that it was anything but what with cramped quarters run over with cockroaches and rats, insect infested food and brackish water!

Right now I’m working on Leah’s Surrender. Leah is Sophie's sister and my hero is Heath Trevelyan, a captain in the British Royal Navy during the French and English wars at the turn of the 19^th century. At that time, the British Navy was the largest and most powerful in the world and very proficient in fighting at sea. “Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves” was certainly an apt phrase.

Being a captain was a position of great social prestige. A captain could count on a good marriage as a result and once his days at sea were over, he might end his career as a justice of the peace of perhaps even a member of parliament. Navy officers were generally drawn from the “gentlemen class”, especially the titled or the wealthy although it wasn’t unknown for talented individuals from the middle class to also achieve that rank. Sons of peers achieved the rank of officer more quickly. Therefore, the Navy became the choice for younger brothers of the aristocracy such as Heath, who is a second son.

Captains were generally all-powerful and kept to themselves but to attract a competent crew, along with good social contacts, they also needed bravery, keen wits, experience, a fair and unprejudiced mind and of course, luck.

You wouldn't find the captain crawling in the rigging:

The quartermaster and not the captain usually took the wheel:

If you were promoted to captain, it helped to be rich. He needed credit and money to provide the necessities such as weapons, furniture for his cabin and costly braided uniforms. As well, he needed funds to buy supplies at foreign ports and to pay for enlistment bounties. These last expenses were recovered from the Navy at the end of each voyage, but it could take years to settle the accounts. Consequently, some captains found themselves promoted into debt. However, if you were born wealthy, these financial matters didn’t impact you. Of course, a single valuable prize recovered during battle might keep any officer comfortable for the rest of his life.

At sea and as a reflection of his financial status, a captain could bring whatever he liked on board. Some cabins were opulent, full of silks, art and silver, their tables spilling over with fine foods. Crew liked serving rich captains because in an effort to improve their popularity, they would provide luxury items or extra amounts of necessities, which came out of the captain’s pocket.  

Once an officer became a captain, the size of the ship determined his promotion up the ranks as well as his level of pay. His date of commission established his eventual promotion to admiral. Only his death could prevent him reaching the status of rear admiral unless he managed to get dismissed from the Navy either by manipulating the books or blatant dereliction of duty.

So all in all, things are looking promising for Captain Heath Trevelyan and Lady Leah Harrington. You can read their story in Leah’s Surrender, Book 2 of my Regency series, The Ladies of Harrington House, coming soon from BWL Publishing!

Featured Author Rosemary Morris

http://bwlpublishing.ca/morris-rosemary

http://bwlpublishing.ca/morris-rosemary

My intriguing, classical historical romances, in which the bedroom door remains shut, are enriched with period detail.
 

I enjoy writing every day, researching my novels, visiting places of historical interest in the U.K, and time spent with family and friends. I also enjoy maintaining my organic garden, in part of which I grow my own, cooking delicious vegetarian meals, knitting and needlework.

Yvonne Lady of Cassio - a medieval saga.

Yvonne, Earl Simon’s legitimate daughter, and his illegitimate daughter, Elizabeth, born on the same night are as alike as two peas in a pod. Simon and his countess are ill-matched. He is a shrewd illiterate warrior, boisterous, selfish, and fond of hunting, who wants more sons. She is literate, pale of face, delicate, pious, charitable, and dreads being with child.

Despite those who love Yvonne and try to protect her, she suffers bereavement, disillusion and meets many challenges during a long, often bitter struggle before she is happy and at peace.

Cassio Castle. Winter, 1299

‘Simon sat by the hearth in his great hall waiting for news of Alice, his par amour’s delivery. With surprise, he realized that every day during the last three years, whenever he thought of a woman, fair Alice crept into his mind. When he thought of home, he pictured her standing at the door to welcome him. He grinned. Despite her low birth, her beauty enthralled him, and her charm rivalled that of any sumptuously gowned lady at court.

He admired his ambitious young par amour for exercising her right to claim an assart, which bordered the forest on the outskirts of Lovage Village. She had marked out an area large enough to support two cows, a few pigs, and some chickens, and, with her family’s help, had tilled her plot.

His thoughts wandered to Alice’s thatched roofed outhouses leaning against the side of the slate-roofed cottage. He felt more at ease in her home, built at his command, than here in his great hall with walls painted dull yellow, on which hung shields, tapestries, and painted cloths in bright hues.

Simon frowned. By now, the babe should have entered the world. He glanced around, aware of several of his hearth knights, whose glowering faces questioned him. Simon scowled. He knew his family and knights referred to his sweet Alice as the earl’s strumpet. God rot their souls in hell.

He beckoned to a squire. “Send for news to Alice’s cottage.”

“At once, my lord.”

Simon’s expression softened. How did Alice hold him in her thrall? Why did the best days of his life begin when she woke up beside him?

Minstrels sang of knights seeking the love of highborn maidens and virtuous ladies. He snorted at the thought. Those romantic ballads lied. A man like him did not expect to find love in marriage. Noblemen wed for heirs, land, and prestige. He groaned. God forgive him for his aversion to his milk and water wife and his delight in red-blooded Alice. She pleased him so well that since he took her as his mistress, the only other woman he had bedded was his wife, with the hope of fathering another legitimate son.

He hoped Alice would bear a son, one he could advance in the world. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. A man risked his life in battle, but birth, a woman’s sole province, endangered her life, and came in its own due time. He watched the fire die down to ash, grateful because his own lusty fire still burned bright.’

Far Beyond Rubies

Gervaise returns from India to England where he meets Juliana, the proverbial damsel in distress whom he will help.

Juliana, the late Baron Kemp’s daughter, does not believe her stepbrother, William’s claim that she and her sister are bastards. When Juliana meets Gervaise for the first time, to prove William lied, she has decided to go to London and seek advice from an attorney. Her long, difficult search for justice will be dangerous.

Riverside Estate. 1706

Ashamed of eavesdropping, Gervaise drew closer to the pavilion with the intention of announcing his presence. Feet pattered within. A young woman peered through an open window. Her pale, oval face looked troubled, and her coal-black hair was slightly disordered.

For a moment, Gervaise could not speak. The sight of her drew him back to India Her form changed to one he knew intimately, yet not in this lifetime. He recognised the mark of a crescent moon on her right cheekbone and sensed the love they once shared. A tremor ran though him. For the first time, he thought the Hindu belief in reincarnation was worthy of serious consideration. Yet despite the teachings of the Anglican church, what if-?

“Sir?” The lady’s indignant voice recalled him from his trance-like state.

He doffed his hat and executed his finest bow. “Gervaise Seymour at your service.”

Wednesday’s Child

Amelia Carstairs needs sense and sensibility to accept her late grandmother’s choice of her guardian, the Earl of Saunton, to whom Amelia was previously betrothed. Without any relatives or friends, she fears the future which, unknown to her, will reveal shocking truths.

Longford Place, Hertfordshire, England, 1816

Saunton replenished his glass with brandy. Confound it, in her long letter Mrs Bettismore explained she esteemed him because he allowed her granddaughter, Amelia, to end their betrothal.

‘Nothing,’ she wrote, ‘would have persuaded a less noble gentleman to agree to the termination of his betrothal to an heiress, who would inherit a great fortune. In my last will and testament, I appointed as my only grandchild’s guardian and one of her trustees. I am confident you will act with utmost good sense and propriety.’ To that burden, Mrs Bettismore added, ‘I hoped to live to see my dear granddaughter married to a gentleman with a faultless reputation equal to yours and, if God willed it, the father of my great-grandchildren. Should you wish to disregard the conventions, tie the knot with my granddaughter while you are still her guardian. To allay gossip if you do so, I have informed her other trustees of my wish.’

Outrageous! Since the only lady he had ever loved married he had never wished to replace her in his affection, and he did not wish to do so now.

Saunton paced up and down the library. Curse the vulgar Mrs Bettismore. He would not be outwitted by her from beyond the grave. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. Such anger and resentment might have cost him his life on the battlefield. Even now it would not serve him well. He halted in front of the window. Before him stretched the long drive. Absent-minded he noted it needed an additional layer of gravel to suppress weeds.

There were never enough funds to provide for Mamma and his siblings, to restore the house, to overhaul the tenants’ farms, repair the farm labourer’s cottages, and make the home farm productive. To make matters worse he could never turn away an honest man in need of employment. ‘Yet,’ taunted his inner voice, ‘if you married Amelia Carstairs-’ “No!” The word exploded from him. ‘But if you were her husband,’ the silent voice continued, ‘you could solve all your monetary problems and provide your sisters with dowries large enough to ensure they married well.’

Saunton ignored the devious voice. He must travel to Weymouth in the hope of arriving in time to attend Mrs Bettismore’s funeral. Afterwards, where and with whom would Miss Carstairs reside?’

A Passion for Books by Victoria Chatham

AVAILABLE HERE AT 50% DISCOUNT UNTIL JULY 31st

I’ve done it again – blown my book budget for July. I swear I am not going to buy any more books until I have read the last five on my Kindle. But there are so many good books out there that if I miss picking up this title, now, I may never see it again. I’m sure you understand how that goes. I let books go and then repurchase them because I miss them and want to reread them. I could, and probably should use my local library more often, but I’m a slower reader these days and like to savour the pages rather than charge through them. Then there are the titles I have let go and cannot remember the author or the title, and that drives me a little crazy.

I’ve worked in a book store, so understand the glazed look of clerks when someone outlines a story and expects you to have the author and title at your fingertips as if you have read every book in the store, or ever published for that matter. Going into a book store for me is an adventure. I never know what I will come across. Never mind the title and story, what will the pages be like to smell or touch?

As Helene Hanff says in 84 Charing Cross Road of one of the books she received, ‘I’m almost afraid to handle such soft vellum and heavy cream-coloured pages. Being used to the dead-white paper and stiff cardboardy covers of American books, I never knew a book could be such a joy to the touch.’

Like Helene, I still have books that are a joy to touch. An old, first edition copy Kipling’s Thy Servant a Dog, an illustrated copy of The Wind in the Willows and Nicolas Bentley’s Tales from Shakespeare, are just a few that I pull out from time to time not only to read but to smell and touch. 

What is, or are, your favourite books for their tactile properties as well as their content? Do you have one particular book, or several? So much for those who forecast that physical books would go the way of the dodo with the arrival of ereaders. I like my ereader for the convenience when I travel, but for me there is nothing quite like holding the real thing in my hands.

Victoria Chatham

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