Talk of the Ton
I'm the kind of writer who can't seem to think in terms of one book: I invariably design a world that takes up three or four books. This leads to a virtual web of connections between my books. So what I offer below is something of a family tree, a way of chasing the characters whom you particularly like through several books, or of figuring out why a character's name sounds so very familiar to you.
Warning! In describing relations between characters, I may wreck a book for you by making it clear who someone marries, or the outcome of a book. Please do not read about The Inside Take if you're wary of knowing who is paired with whom!
» The most important thing to know about this story is that after writing it, I was heartbroken to realize that I had taken a fabulous plot and boiled it down to a hundred pages. It would have made a great novel (and my editor agreed!).
don’t know about
you all, but for me
there are few pleasures
more delicious than
scandal (mind you,
the few that do exist
are very nice!). Still...what
where would a girl
be without a good
gossip now and then? Talk
of the Ton is all about gossip, scandal and
rumors I jumped at the chance to write a story
for the collection.
"The four novellas that make up this anthology are quick, light and full of period charm…The characters are well drawn and not at all clichéd. The four authors have served themselves well with this collection."
- Affaire de Coeur (posted October 2005)
"In one night, she will learn more about her heart than she has known for years, while Kerr and Emma will play out a private farce for their own enjoyment….Ms. James [writes] an enchanting story which was entertaining as the hero turned the tables on the heroine."
- Rakehell.com (posted May 2005)
Roses (highest rating)
- A Romance Review (posted April, 2005)
- Romantic Times BOOKclub
"Ms. James's wry humor shines in a series of letters that showcase the ton's love of scandal and the titillation or horror it elicits, depending on whether or not one is involved. She evinces her understanding of human nature with both irony and empathy as she develops her characters. And treats her readers with a highly original scene of seduction…"
- Romance Reviews Today (posted May, 2005)
"You’ll be amazed at the gossip, enthralled by the strong and capable women and surprised at the outcomes. . . [Eloisa James’] A Proper Englishwoman is a delightful romp taking our hearts along for the ride."
- Suzanne Tucker, Freshfiction.com. (posted April 2005)
"Gilbert Baring-Gould, Earl of Kerr, has the ton tittle-tattling about his outrageous behavior. Kerr has been betrothed to the Honorable Emma Loudan since they were children, and his Godmother, the Countess of Bredelbane, is strongly urging him to give up his French coquettes and set a date for his wedding. Emma recognizes that her fiancée has a penchant for French women and Shakespeare. Can a very proper Englishwoman use Kerr's weaknesses to get his attention — and his love? A Proper Englishwoman by Eloisa James est tres magnifique!
"Talk of the Ton is pure entertainment featuring memorable, flawed heroes and heroines who will captivate your heart. This book must go on your to-buy list, and put at the very top of your to-be-read stack!"
-Betty Cox, Reader to Reader, (posted February, 2005)
March 16, 1817.
I have received a distressing communication from my sister regarding your behavior — or should I say, the lack of it — while attending Lady Sandleford’s ball. What needs have you, pray, to leave your usual haunts and attend the assemblies of my friends? Of course poor Cecilia didn’t recognize the provenance of your disgusting reply to Dressel; Shakespeare was never in her line. The least you could have done was to reverse the quotation and put the bit around the ring before the question of the baby. Your fiancée will no doubt be horrified to find that her ability to get with child (and that without your knowledge) is on the lips of every Londoner. I demand you make haste to the country and marry Emma immediately, preferably with a special license. I shall expect to hear that you have left for St. Albans by tomorrow at the latest.
Yours with all
March 16, 1817
Dear Miss Loudan,
I am not convinced that you will remember me, since we had only the slightest of acquaintances at Miss Proudfoot’s School for Ladies. My maiden name was Laneham. I write you from the deep reverence I felt toward you and indeed, all my fellow students at Miss Proudfoot’s School. The Earl of Kerr spoke of you in such a fashion last evening that I had difficulty restraining myself. To be precise, he said that he would not marry you, implying that you were with child. I know that this information will come as a great shock, given the unpleasant implication as regards your reputation. I hasten to tell you that no one believed it in the least. If our positions were reversed, and I as isolated from the town as you have been, I should wish to be told of his disgraceful comment.
In hopes that you are not angered by my communication,
March 16, 1817.
As regards my note earlier this morning, I have now had missives from Mrs. Witter and Lady Flaskett. Lady Flaskett informs me that you exemplify the depraved appetite of this vicious age. Picture my dismay on hearing my godson described thusly. How long has it been since you even visited St. Albans? I know that you have had a difficult time since Walter’s death, but your brother would not wish to you to lose all sense of decency. Next week at the latest I shall expect to hear of your nuptials.
The Countess & etc.
March 17, 1817.
My dear, dearest godmama,
I can’t take myself to the country today and marry my provincial paragon; I have an appointment to look at a horse. And a fencing match to attend as well. She will have to wait. Granted, I haven’t seen Miss Loudan for some time, but she seemed clear-headed enough when I last found myself in St. Albans. She won’t think twice of these rumors of my degeneracy, should they make their way to her.
March 17, 1817.
This will be a quick note, as Dyott awaits me. We’re off to Tattersall’s to find a pony for Garret who is quite a bruising rider at age five, and does us proud. You know how much I hate bibble-babble, but I’m told Kerr informed a roomful that you are too old to bear a child; I merely wished to reassure you that I was all of forty-one when Garret was born, and since you are half that age, breeding is not a concern. I only have to think of your sporting nature, and I have no concern for your future. Thank God you didn’t marry Kerr already, because he’s nothing more than a job horse and you deserve a high-stepper. Do come to London, and we’ll find you a proper spouse.
Your cousin Mary, Lady Dyott
March 18, 1817.
The news of your appalling jest has spread throughout the town. I have no doubt but that Emma has heard every loathsome detail. Can you not consider your duty, which is clearly to provide an heir to the estate without delay?
The Countess & etc.
March 18, 1817.
I’ll marry Miss Loudan someday, but not this week. And certainly not due to a jest on my part, if admittedly in poor taste. Don’t you think that the ton has become alarmingly illiterate, given that no one seems to recognize a Shakespeare play? I shouldn’t worry about the question of an heir; I’ve heard that country air is remarkably healthy. I can turn out five or six little Kerrs in the next decade.
Yours with affection,
March 19, 1817.
I was suffering from a stomach upset and so missed the initial flurry of news about Kerr. Darling, I’m so sorry! But we must move quickly, Emma, given that your betrothal obviously must be terminated. You are all of twenty-four now, and fiancés, especially those with a hefty fortune and title, do not grow on trees. You have been immured in the country so long that you have no idea what it is like here. Women are considered decayed at two-and-twenty. You must come to London at once and find a husband. I shall arrive tomorrow and expect to find you packed.
Your sister Bethany Lynn
March 18, 1817.
Madeline, ma cherie,
While I naturally adore you and kiss your feet in pure admiration, it would not be prudent for me to accompany you to the opera tonight. The Puritans are out in force. In fact, I am very much afraid that I shall have to forego the pleasure of your company in the future. Please accept this ruby as the smallest hint of my regard for you. Tu seras toujours dan mon cúur m’me si tu ne seras pas toujours avec moi.
March 19, 1817.
I can’t force you to abide honorably by the vows that your father made on your behalf. I take your behavior much amiss though, and I say that to you seriously. I shall write Emma myself and try to soothe her feelings. I’ve no doubt but that she’s hearing the same as I: that you intend to marry some rubbishing Frenchwoman with putative claims to being a lady. Do so, Kerr, and you will never darken my door again.
The Countess of Bredalbane
March 20, 1817.
Tsk, tsk, dearest godmama.
You who know your Shakespeare so well should avoid clichÈs about darkened doors and such like. When my sainted uncle was alive, did he object to your sharp tongue? I go about my business with a rejoicing heart, knowing that you will soothe Miss Loudan’s troubled brow. You needn’t worry about Mademoiselle Benoit. While I shall always find a French accent irrésistible, I concede that the country charmer is my fate. I also know that you, my sainted godmother, would never wish for me, her beloved godson, to be unhappy, so you will forgive me if I cease to think about marriage this very moment.