Read Kaleidoscope: A Regency Novella Online
Authors: Hannah Meredith
“I’ll happily take my leave of our hosts, then, but only if you stop calling me that ridiculous name. I’ve heard ‘Lady Lucien’ enough today to last for the rest of my life.” She crossed her eyes briefly and made him laugh.
He’d thought he knew Carolyn Rydell well before she’d agreed to marry him, but hidden aspects of her personality had emerged in the extra month they’d waited to say their vows. “It
is
your name now,” he said dryly.
“A fact you didn’t stress when I agreed to be your wife.” She gave him a saucy grin and went in search of Templeton and his wife who had hosted the wedding breakfast. Luke didn’t want to point out that the wives of the younger sons of a Marquess were always known as Lady First name. Poor Patience would continue to be called Lady David even if her husband resided in Scotland forever while she stayed in London.
As if thinking of her made her more noticeable, Luke saw Patience across the room laughing at something Tremaine had said. Living away from David had certainly improved Patience’s outlook on life. Or perhaps it was just being around Tremaine, who was always good company.
Surprisingly, he’d discovered that his brother Templeton was good company as well. Still stodgy and oh-so-correct, but honestly caring nonetheless. He and Caro strolled over to find him in earnest discussion with Sanjeet about some shipping ventures.
Since Gerald was too ill to attend and his mother wouldn’t leave his side, Caro had no family to attend the ceremony. Consequently, she’d insisted that Sanjeet, Amala, and Perkins, of all people, be included on the guest list. Luke had expected Templeton to object, but his brother had blithely invited the servants to his house as if it were an everyday occurrence. Caro magically managed to get Temp to do whatever she wanted. Perhaps he hoped to keep her happy so she would not mention to his wife that she’d once received an obscenely large bouquet of pink roses from him.
Amala and Perkins had talked mostly with each other, but Sanjeet had been in his element when he talked business with Temp or Lord Greyling. The small man looked much more relaxed than he had at the launching of
Rydell’s Pride
a week earlier. Then he’d been expecting some last minute difficulty, which, fortunately, had not transpired.
“Temp,” Luke said, shaking his brother’s hand, “thank you so much for this lovely celebration.”
“It was the least we could do, considering that Kelton has yet to recover from the footpads who attacked him last month.” Temp’s pronouncement was as staid as ever. Luke quickly looked around to make sure Tremaine wasn’t nearby, since his friend might have burst into inappropriate laughter. If there were any footpads involved in what happened to Kelton, they would have been either Luke or Tremaine, since Luke had been the one to hit him over the head and Tremaine had both dumped Kelton near his club and then miraculously found him.
“I understand the man has yet to remember how to button his own fall,” Temp said in a quieter voice.
“Yes, it is a sad case. We can only hope he will improve.” Luke waited to see if lightning would strike him down for such a blatant lie. As far as he was concerned, Gerald Rydell could remain a three-year-old for the rest of his life. Kelton’s attempt to murder Caro was still the stuff of nightmares.
“I’ve had the carriage brought around,” Luke said. “Caro and I need to leave if we hope to get to Thorneby Hall before nightfall. I’m anxious for Caro to see the place.” The house itself wasn’t imposing, but Luke thought his new wife would enjoy the quiet informality of the place.
“I’m glad father decided to deed the property to you. Even if this entire debacle with your mother’s jewels hadn’t occurred, Thorneby Hall was unentailed and should have passed to either you or David.” Temp flushed in embarrassment at mentioning David.
Luke didn’t feel obligated to tell Temp that while he would never forget his half-brother’s betrayal, it no longer occupied much of his conscious thought. Luke now looked on the events of the past as a crooked path that had led him to the happiness he’d now found. If his life had gone as planned, he would be a vicar in some distant parish with a wife who was not Caro. That was too horrible to contemplate.
He felt a soft pressure on his arm and looked down to see his wife by his side. She’d donned a peach colored bonnet that matched her dress and looked delectable. “I’m ready,” she said.
And then all was hurry and good wishes, and they were in the coach on their way to a new life.
“What is that?” Caro asked, pointing to the large package that sat in the middle of the rear-facing seat.
Luke chuckled. “I thought we’d get at least two blocks before you asked. That’s your wedding gift.”
Caro reached up to touch the strand of pearls around her neck. “But I thought these were my gift.” Since they’d decided Patience might be hurt if she wore the canary diamond, the pearls had seemed a good, neutral choice.
“No, that was just a gift. This is the one that counts.” At least Luke hoped this was the case. It had seemed like a brilliant idea when he’d ordered it. Now he wasn’t so sure. He reached over, retrieved the gaily-wrapped package, and placed it in Caro’s lap.
She tore into the paper with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old. When she removed the box top, she muttered, “Oh, Luke,” and turned to him with tears in her eyes.
“I know the one Charles gave you held a lot of memories, but since I broke it, I wanted to be the one to give you a new one.” He lifted the kaleidoscope out of the box and placed it on his own lap. “The tube on this one is removable, so you can hold it directly to your eye.” He slid the tube out of the stand and handed it to her.
She immediately looked in the eyepiece and pointed the other end toward the bright sunshine coming in the carriage window. “Oh my heavens, these patterns are even more complex.” She turned the object box and continued to make sounds of approval.
She finally pulled the tube away from her eye, “Luke, this is spectacular!” She balanced the stand on his lap and leaned over to kiss him.
The edge of her bonnet hit him in the forehead. That damned bonnet needed to go. Actually, it was two hours until they changed horses. In that period of time, a lot of clothing could go—or be rearranged. “There’s an inscription,” he said, his voice tightening with other parts of his body.
She turned the tube until she saw the engraving.
May There Always Be Beauty – August 14, 1825
. “It’s perfect,” she said. “These will be our patterns, forever changing but always beautiful.” She turned again toward the brightest source of light.
Luke placed the stand in the box by his feet. “Your bonnet’s askew,” he said, reaching to untie the jaunty bow under her chin and lifting the hat free. Well, at least that was removed, but his chances of any further disrobing were going to have to wait until Caro tired of looking in the kaleidoscope.
He settled back to watch his wife, absorbed in her own task. Here was beauty more diverse and bright than anything manmade could ever show. This was a view he would never tire of, regardless of how time’s hand changed the patterns.
Historical events often mold my characters’ behavior and motivation.
Kaleidoscope
, however, is less firmly tied to an exact time in the past than most of my other tales. But this doesn’t mean that I didn’t have to “fudge” some dates a bit to make the story work.
Caro’s grandmother would have been much more likely to marry an Englishman in the 18th century than later. The wills of East India Company officials in the 1780’s show that fully one-third left their goods to Indian wives and their Anglo-Indian children. These cross-cultural marriages rapidly declined and became less socially acceptable as larger numbers of English women arrived in India in the 19th century. And so, playing with a backstory that appears nowhere on paper but lives in my head, 1825 became the logical date for the love story in this novella.
Alas, I also had to contend with that pesky kaleidoscope, which was invented by David Brewster in 1816 and manufactured in large quantities in 1817. It’s hard to believe the instant popularity of this device. When it first appeared, over 200,000 were sold in a three-month period. It makes perfect sense that Charles Rydell would choose it as a gift for a seven-year-old girl. And here’s the “fudge.” Caro received her kaleidoscope in 1803. Such is the magic of fiction.
In all other ways, 1825 worked well for the background of the love story between Carolyn Rydell and Lord Lucien Harlington. Although the Regency had officially ended in 1820, when the Prince Regent became George IV, the manners and mores remained the same. Huge East Indiamen ships still carried most of the cargo around the world. The age of the fast Clipper and eventually steam-powered ships was yet to arrive. Ten years after Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo, the world was essentially at peace.
Women’s fashions were changing, however, as they always do. By 1825, the waistline of dresses had again settled on or near a woman’s natural waist, and skirts were widening. Both of these changes necessitated the return of the corset. Alas!
Such are the odds and ends that anyone who writes in a given historical period must consider. I’m sure I’ve made mistakes, but I have tried to faithfully reproduce a specific time and place.
I hope you enjoyed
Kaleidoscope
. Please stop by www.hannahmeredith.com to leave any questions or comments. I love hearing from readers. Also, honest reviews are always helpful to others who are looking for a book they might find appealing, so please consider leaving one at your review site of choice.
Happy reading.
Thanks,
Hannah
Thanks to all the usual suspects who have read and commented on this book as a work in progress. A special tip-of-the-hat to Anna D. Allen, who helped rein in some of my excessive verbiage. I appreciate her wise counsel but chose to ignore the proliferation of dangling modifiers. Those are all mine.
Table of Contents
Changes in the Patterns for May 1825