Lady Caroline Lamb’s whole disgraceful truth… Part fourteen… Caro falls with a child

CarolinelambSorry, it has been a few weeks since I last shared a part of Caroline’s true story, but I have had writing deadlines, so I had to press pause, but anyway, now Caro is back, and I will just dive into her story today. Here is the history of this series of posts for anyone joining today and as always if you are a regular follower, just skip to where I have highlighted the text bold.

I was drawn to Lady Caroline Lamb, who lived in the Regency era, because Harriette Wilson the courtesan who wrote her memoirs in 1825, mentions the Ponsonby and the Lamb family frequently. Also the story of Caroline’s affair with Lord Byron captured my imagination. Caroline was also a writer, she wrote poems, and novels in her later life. I have read Glenarvon.

Her life story and her letters sucked me further into the reality of the Regency world which is rarely found in modern-day books. Jane Austen wrote fictional, ‘country’ life as she called it, and I want to write fictional ‘Regency’ life rather than simply romance. But what I love when I discover gems in my research like Caroline’s story is sharing the real story behind my fiction here too.

Lady Caroline Lamb was born Caroline Ponsonby, on the 13th November 1785. She was the daughter of Frederick Ponsonby, Viscount Duncannon, and Henrietta (known as Harriet), the sister of the infamous Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire.

Caroline became an official lady when her grandfather died, and her father became Earl of Bessborough earning her the honorific title ‘Lady’ and she grew up in a world of luxury, even Marie Antoinette was a family friend. Caroline was always renowned as being lively, and now it is suspected she had a condition called bipolar. As a child she earned herself a title as a ‘brat’, by such things as telling her aunt Georgiana that Edward Gibbon’s (the author of The Decline and fall of the Roman Empire) face was ‘so ugly it had frightened her puppy’.

And when she grew up Byron once described Caroline as “the cleverest most agreeable, absurd, amiable, perplexing, dangerous fascinating little being that lives now or ought to have lived 2000 years ago.”

When the Caroline and William began their married life, in their private apartment in the William’s parents’ home in London, they had an income from his father of  £2,200 to live upon; which was in those days a considerable amount of money to a servant, but not for the aristocracy who were trying to uphold appearances, and especially for a young bride like Caroline who had a desire for the theatrical and liked to impress. She employed her own pages and dressed them in a livery she’d designed, with scarlet waistcoats, breeches, and a brown Hussar jacket, trimmed in red with six rows of round silver buttons. (I love Caro’s eccentricity – but it would probably not have seemed so eccentric then, flare and style was the DNA of elite society in England in the early 1800s, everyone wished to make their mark, and be admired).

You can image then that the couple were not pleased that when they were still only recently wed Edward’s sister’s wedding began to be planned. Emily Lamb was to be married on the 20th July to Lord Cowper, a wealthy, powerful, much older man. Emily was thrilled about the marriage, and must have bragged exuberantly. She wrote to her mother, and signed her name with a ring around it, which she called a ‘mythical ring‘ of  ‘unaccountable power‘ – now do you see what I mean about the desire to impress. They were all at it.

William, being a Lamb, as I described in the last part, of course used to speak to Caro in ways which were not considered genteel. In the first months of their marriage he spoke to her about his previous love-affairs, including an infatuation for Caroline’s cousin, Lady Morpeth, whom he had spoken of his feelings too. You can imagine who wounded that must have made Caroline, feel and there are several letters in existence, in which she writes to her cousin about the things William has said, “I often talk to of you to William & am more delighted than I can tell you with the Frankness and affection with which he speaks of you. We agreed that if he had denied having felt a very strong attachment to you he might have been less guilty of of the charge of inconstancy but would have had many more faults to answer for— he is frankness itself., However & does not scruple to say he loved you very sincerely...” and perhaps this was a response to a charge of jealousy. “You are deteremined I find to write such wicked letters that I must either give you up for ever or scold you very—— jealous—— merciful heaven what words! If I was jealous you should drink slow poison every morning and if I was jealous I should hate you instead of which somehow or other you know I L….o….v….e you lady and therefore no more—-”  And I love the way Caroline writes, with numerous expressions of her words.

However Little G, now Lady Morpeth, remained Caroline’s friend and her closest confident. It was G Caro asked for advice when she fell pregnant.

“am I with child G tell me fairly what you think & how you felt when you were so first, had you ever little unaccountable pains many fears that you were going to miscarry were you nervous apt to be frightened very hungry every day very sleepy and very languid and did a great deal of exercise give you a pain in your back, were you restless——-pray tell  me also for I have nobody else to ask though it seems rather an extraordinary question to ask but is it bad for you to sleep (Caro underlined the word sleep in her letter) with your husband at the time in the most significant sense of the word—I am anxious to know for I must let nothing be done that can hurt my darling boy who I love already better than any thing”

I think Caroline’s letter to G is a wonderful insight into the words of a young Regency wife. But then Caroline gives a little more insight into her and William’s married life and how she felt about her husband.

“We are reading tolerably little & I see too little of William—today I lead a quite pleasant life but today for the first time I went out to shoot with him it was pretty to see the Dogs & my beautiful husband with all his black hair over his brows & a great colour from the eagerness & and animation he felt pacing over all the stubble fields with his gun on his shoulder & and me on his arm sometimes we rode & and then he brave and stoutly led my Horse. I was delighted till I saw one partridge killed and another wounded which though at too great a distance really to see I imagined  & greatly disgusted I went away.” Caro was such a romantic, but romanticism was the culture of the age. Both for men and women. “Tell Car I am still as I was at Holy Well that is I am convinced the Mother of a beautiful boy. I am sure I feel the boy move—

Burn this immediately & if you tell Lord Morpeth a word of what I have said to you tremble at what I shall repeat to William”  Thank heavens G did not burn it! I love these letters.

Poor Caroline’s pregnancy was not an easy one though, she records in a later letter to G “I was allarmed for I grew languid & had pains in my back weakness all over and ceased to be sick they confine me all day in an horizontal posture to a couch and in general make me dine upstairs.” There is another element of this letter though which I love. In my books I often describe affectionate couples, and I think it probably would not have been the case in the era all that much, and yet I’ve always believed there must have been some couples who were openly in love and affectionate, hear Caroline’s words “Lord and Lady Aberdeen flirt together au notre mode—Lady Abercon says if you will not repeat the joke “I come out from dinner and am almost always obliged to pull my veil over my face on one side Kat and Lord Aberdeen set on an arm chair so close that it is no matter whether they are embracing or no for a I defy a person to find out when they are not & if I turn the other way I see Caro and William very comfortably gone to bed in another part of the room on the couch

Another thing I was thrilled to hear in Caroline’s letters to G, was an admission from Caro that they shared a bed every night, something which was not thought normal for the aristocracy but I put in my novels regardless. “since I wrote William left me for two days & a night for his detestable yoemanry dinner—I did not know before how cold and melancholy it was to sleep by yourself.

Sadly though in the January 1806 on the 31st , Caro went into premature labour, she was right, it was a boy, and he was born on the 1st February 1806 but he lived only for a few hours, too small to survive, and I think what must have made the whole experience even worse for her, when she relied on William so much, he was not at home when she miscarried. He returned home to find his wife in bed, mourning the loss of their child and recovering from a traumatic labour. It must have struck at the foundation of their marriage. I wonder if Caro had had this child and if it had been fit and well, if that may have changed the outcome, if they futures would have run a different course. I do find Caroline’s life story very sad…

~

All being well, no deadlines… so more next week

If you would like to read my historical romance story that was inspired by Caroline’s life… it’s just coming up for pre-order The Dangerous Love of a Rogue, will be out in ebook in January and can be pre-ordered for Paperback release in March.

But if you can’t wait for Regency stories, then grab one of my books many of them are currently on offer in the UK from 69p and in the USA from $1.99 and there are couple of little extras for free… 

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For

  • the story of the real courtesan who inspired                                                 The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.

Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click  ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook  page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark

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Reckless in Innocence ~ A #Free Historical Romance story ~ Part Eleven

Reckless in Innocence

for my Historical Romance readers

© Jane Lark

Publishing rights belong to Jane Lark, this should not be recreated in any form without prior consent from Jane Lark

Reckless in Innocence

Reckless in Innocence

~

Read the earlier parts one , two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

~

Part Eleven

Chapter Four

“I have seen the book, Percy. I know of your wager.” Marcus leaned back in the leather armchair before the empty hearth at White’s, still gripping Percy’s coat sleeve, having waylaid the man as he passed. “As I said leave Miss Derwent alone.”

“Are you trying to push me out, Tay, is that it?” Percy challenged back.

Marcus took to his feet in answer, letting go of Percy’s sleeve. Standing beside the leaner man, he was an inch or two taller. “Believe what you wish to believe, but understand this, Percy, I will not let you touch her.”

“Surely that is Miss Derwent’s choice, Tay. I really cannot see that it should be any concern of yours, unless, that is, you are in it for the sport.”

“What I would wish to know, Percy, is whether you intend to give Miss Derwent the opportunity to refuse?” Jason walked behind Marcus then, and stood beside him, facing Percy, his eyes boring into the man, the air between them thickening with Jason’s obvious hostility.

Allowing his lips to curl into a smile, Marcus watched Percy squirm. The man cowered before Jason, and Marcus enjoyed the uncomfortable expression on Lord Percy’s face. There must still be a scar at Percy’s shoulder which was testament to the fact that Jason’s history with this man was turbulent.

Marcus had stood as Jason’s second on the heath in the mist of a November morning, six years ago. Jason had not shot to kill. He had struck Percy in the shoulder and the wound had been enough to put the other man off his shot but nothing more. Jason had intended to teach Percy a lesson, to send him to the country with his tail between his legs, but his retirement from the ton had only lasted one season.

Angela had insisted that the details of Percy’s indiscretions were never dragged up again. She did not wish rumours circulating in the parlours of London. Yet Marcus knew Jason’s wounds were also scars, memories that haunted and angered him. The reason for their duel would never be forgotten.

Percy withdrew immediately, bowing sharply at both men, but offering no word in parting.

“I should have killed that man.” Jason turned to Marcus, his expression one of restraint.

“If you had killed him, Jason, then you would be the one who had the conscience to live with and not he.” Marcus dropped into his chair, with a sigh, while Jason took the vacant armchair beside him.

“You know that I distrust Percy more than you, but we have not spent the last six years defending his intended conquests. Why are you defending Miss Derwent? Is there more to this?”

“There is nothing more.” There was no question that Marcus would discuss the details.

“Then let me say this, Marc. Perhaps your days as a rake are over. If you will not be honest with me, then be honest with yourself. There are more ways than one to keep the competition away. You know that you could offer for Miss Derwent. Have you considered it… marrying the girl?”

Providing his brother with a direct look that locked horns, like a stag, Marcus gave no hesitation in response. “Ankle irons are not for me. I have never promised you otherwise.”

“And yourself? Have you never promised anything to yourself Marc? Children perhaps? Do you never think of an heir, of returning to the family home? It looks more and more as though Angela and I cannot breed, so if you do not wed, there might be no heir.”

Balking immediately at his words, Marcus’s expression turned to one of distaste. Jason surely knew him well enough to know that he would never retire to the slow days of their family seat. He lived for women and racing, in the order they were stated, and as for settling down with just one woman, it would be like owning one horse, they were bred for their abilities, you needed more than one to appreciate the full range of equestrian skills – and he could never have a child. Jason was to provide the children. That had been their bargain.

Angela would produce in time.

Marcus’s fingers extended on the arm of the chair and then retracted to grasp the tacks in the curved leather. A shallow smile stirred his lips. Then again, he had not looked at another filly, human or horse, in nearly four months. Since when had Elizabeth captured his thoughts above all else? Guilt, Marcus, he told himself. Guilt. You owe the girl a debt, that’s all.

“A woman’s tongue is a cruel thing, Jason. I have never held any desire to shackle myself to one. You did not hear it as much as I. I would do not wish for a wife or a child and Angela shall have her time, it will happen for you.”

“I am not so sure, but regardless, you speak as though I was not there when you grew up… I  heard it enough; Mother knew how to make her words sting.”

“And I have no intention of placing myself on the end of such barbs. I will not live as our father did. I will not chain myself to hell on earth.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, watching Marcus closely. Marcus knew Jason had always been tolerant of his nomadic ways as far as women were concerned. When they had been younger there was no shame in a wayward elder brother. Then he had met Angela and she, too, had disregarded Marcus’s indiscretions. Marcus had supported them both through the tumultuous times of their early relationship and, in return, Angela had always supported him. She never snubbed his women in the street, nor complained that his reputation affected hers. His brother and sister-in-law accepted him for who he was, he had never promised to change. He never could, the fear inside him was too deeply seated, too intense. Irrational perhaps? He did not dwell on that.

“You cannot blame the failure of our parents’ marriage on our mother. Father played his part.”

“Their marriage did not fail, Jason. Father took his own life to escape it. Must I go into the details?” Jason was certainly picking all the untouchable subjects today. “I would rather not discuss it, and especially not here.” Marcus snatched up his drink and swallowed the last of the burning brandy in one swift draught. “Good day.”

Mark stood and walked away.

Jason did not understand, he’d been younger. He had not seen what Marcus had seen. He had not found what Marcus had found.

The pain inside was a living, breathing monster in Marcus’s blood and bone as Marcus walked from the club. He needed to get away, get out of sight in case he let it show. In general he did not remember, in general he sought to forget… there was no way on earth he could ever face being wed. Never.  He would not consider it. The idea actually made him nauseous.

~

To be continued…

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If you cannot wait until next week for more of Jane Lark’s writing there’s plenty to read right now 😀

To read the Marlow Intrigues series, you can start anywhere, but this is the actual order

The Lost Love of Soldier ~ The Prequel

#1 The Illicit Love of a Courtesan

#1.5 Capturing The Love of an Earl ~ This Free Novella

#2 The Passionate Love of a Rake

#2.5 The Desperate Love of a Lord ~ A second Free Novella

#3 The Scandalous Love of a Lord

#4 The Dangerous Love of a Rogue

Jane’s books can be ordered from most booksellers in paperback

and, yes, there are more to come  🙂 soon…

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Go to the index

For

  • the story of the real courtesan who inspired                          The Illicit Love of a Courtesan,
  • another free short story, about characters from book #2,  A Lord’s Scandalous Love,
  • the prequel excerpts for book #3                                              The Scandalous Love of a Duke

Jane Lark is a writer of authentic, passionate and emotional Historical and New Adult Romance stories, and the author of a No.1 bestselling Historical Romance novel in America, ‘The Illicit Love of a Courtesan’.

Click here to find out more about Jane’s books, and see Jane’s website www.janelark.co.uk to learn more about Jane. Or click  ‘like’ on Jane’s Facebook  page to see photo’s and learn historical facts from the Georgian, Regency and Victorian eras, which Jane publishes there. You can also follow Jane on twitter at @janelark