“A toast,” Papa bellowed from his place by the drawing room fireplace. “To the happy couple.”
The guests lifted their glasses. “To the happy couple!”
“And to their future!” Mr. Sharpe said.
Sophie smiled at Ned as she raised her teacup. “To the future,” she echoed. “May it be bright and full of wonder.”
“It will be,” Ned promised. “For all of us.”
And it was.
A Holiday by Gaslight was inspired by the social, scientific, and technological advances of the mid-19th century. Like us, the Victorians were faced with a rapidly changing world. Many wanted to cling to the status quo, but some—like Sophie’s father—embraced the change to the point of folly. Having his country house fitted for gas is just one example. In the mid-Victorian era, the cost of such an endeavor would have been equal to about $100,000.00 in the present day. So, no small sum.
Another prominent theme in A Holiday by Gaslight is adaptation to changing circumstances. Charles Darwin’s then controversial book On the Origin of Species was published in November of 1859. Sophie uses Darwin’s theories as a starting point for embracing a future that is largely out of her control. This culminates in her engagement to Ned, a gentleman who is not of her class.
Speaking of class, those of you who are Elizabeth Gaskell fans may have noticed the subtle allusions to Gaskell’s 1855 novel North and South. Like John Thornton, Ned Sharpe is a stern tradesman with a strong—and rather severe—mother. He also makes the mistake of referring to Sophie as “a beautiful creature.” There are other North and South breadcrumbs in the text if you care to look for them.
Finally, like all my books, A Holiday by Gaslight is sprinkled with actual historical events and Victoriana. For example, in June of 1861, Prince Albert really did preside over the opening of the New Horticultural Gardens at South Kensington. And then, in December of that same year, he tragically passed away.
If you’d like to learn more about the Victorian fashions, holiday traditions, or any of the people, places, and events which feature in my novels, please visit the blog portion of my author website at MimiMatthews.com.
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North Devon, England
September, 1859
Helena Reynolds crossed the floor of the crowded taproom, her carpetbag clutched in her trembling hands. The King’s Arms was only a small coaching inn on the North Devon coast road, but it seemed to her as if every man in Christendom had gathered there to have a pint. She could feel their eyes on her as she navigated carefully through their midst. Some stares were merely curious. Others were openly assessing.
She suppressed a shiver. She was hardly dressed for seduction in her gray striped-silk traveling gown, though she’d certainly made an effort to look presentable. After all, it was not every day that one met one’s future husband.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the innkeeper called to her from behind the crowded bar.
“Yes. If you please, sir.” Tightening her hands on her carpetbag, she approached the high counter. A very tall man was leaning against the end of it, nursing his drink. His lean, muscular frame was shrouded in a dark wool greatcoat, his face partially hidden by his upturned collar and a tall beaver hat tipped low over his brow. She squeezed into the empty space beside him, her heavy petticoats and crinoline rustling loudly as they pressed against his leg.
She lowered her voice to address the innkeeper directly. “I’m here to see—”
“Blevins!” a man across the room shouted. “Give us another round!”
Before Helena could object, the innkeeper darted off to oblige his customers. She stared after him in helpless frustration. She’d been expected at one o’clock precisely. And now, after the mix-up at the train station and the delay with the accommodation coach—she cast an anxious glance at the small watch she wore pinned to the front of her bodice—it was already a quarter past two.
“Sir!” she called to the innkeeper. She stood up on the toes of her half boots, trying to catch his eye. “Sir!”
He did not acknowledge her. He was exchanging words with the coachman at the other end of the counter as he filled five tankards with ale. The two of them were laughing together with the ease of old friends.
Helena gave a soft huff of annoyance. She was accustomed to being ignored, but this was the outside of enough. Her whole life hinged on the next few moments.