Today debut historical author Ashley March is here talking about Historical Accuracy, something I know is important to many of you. Ashley’s debut release, Seducing the Duchess, is out now! 

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The Question of Historical Accuracy

As a reader of historical romance, I want to be swept away by the story so that the modern world fades around me and I can escape to another time, another place—even if it’s only an hour here and there in between family and work obligations.

As a writer, I want my readers to experience this same feeling, and part of this requires that I keep to my end of the bargain. As an author of historical romance, I must prove my credibility in my research of the time period I choose to write about.

My debut novel, a Victorian romance titled SEDUCING THE DUCHESS, revolves around the issues of divorce and remarriage. After being betrayed by her husband at the beginning of their marriage, Charlotte is so desperate to escape him that she does everything she can to force Philip to petition for a divorce.

Although getting a divorce granted was difficult throughout the 19th century, it was especially rare before the Divorce and Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857. Since the book is set in 1848, this means that a divorce which allowed the right to remarry required a special act of Parliament. The woman usually must be proven to have committed adultery, and the man had to go through both the ecclesiastical and civil courts before requesting a member of Parliament to introduce the special act for the divorce. According to Sally Mitchell’s Daily Life in Victorian England, fewer than 10 bills of divorce were passed through Parliament per year in the first 50 years of the century.

While it was important that I know these facts so I could keep the novel as historically accurate as possible, I chose not to give the reader all this information. Instead, Philip talked about needing to petition the courts if he were to request a divorce, and I implied that the length of time it took for a petition to be approved was unknown. It could be months, or years, even.

However, at one point, I also took historical accuracy into my own hands. Because Philip is a duke, I assumed the possibility that his power and status would influence the courts and Parliament to grant the divorce. Does this mean he would have been successful? Not at all. Even as a duke, he was still at the mercy of others. But based on Philip’s experience, he’d basically been given everything he wanted his entire adult life as a result of his ducal status. Up to this point, he had no reason to expect he would be denied.

This wasn’t the only authorial privilege I asserted in the novel when it came to historical accuracy. I also played with Charlotte’s character. As most of us know, the stereotypical Victorian woman of the higher classes was thought to be the model of virtue—reserved emotionally and sexually, dedicated in her Christian faith, expressing her moral rectitude through her devotion to various charities. True, this is a stereotype, but even if it was the rule, I was determined to make Charlotte the exception. While she wasn’t born into the aristocracy, she was the daughter of landed gentry—a squire, in fact. Yet she sang bawdy songs in church when she was little. As a grown woman she cusses; she’s also aware of her power over men and is sometimes overtly sexual. Could a woman like this have existed in Victorian England? Of course. No matter how a society is portrayed as a whole, there will always be people who defy the norm.

In one part of the story, Philip gives Charlotte permission to do anything she wants (would reveal more, but don’t want to give too much away!). As a result, Charlotte tests him in a couple of different areas. One way she does this is by gambling with the servants. I believe this is where a red flag would go up for most readers. A heroine of the upper class gambling with her servants? It sounds preposterous, doesn’t it? Especially when the servants themselves each have their own statuses, and wouldn’t normally fraternize with one another in such a setting.

The decision I had to make here was choosing between complete historical accuracy and my heroine’s character. We already know Charlotte was trying to test Philip. Could she be charming enough to convince the servants to do something which they knew might enrage their master? Would they also be convinced to set aside their social positions in respect to the other staff? I could have chosen another scene entirely and not have had to make this decision, but given Charlotte’s character, I knew it was possible.

In both of these instances, I didn’t depend on historical accuracy alone, but chose to pursue the story based on the characters themselves within the framework of the time period.

But I’m only one reader, and I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you read historical romance, what do you believe is the role of historical accuracy in the story? How much leeway do you give the author with the characters and the plot? What sets you off and makes you throw the book against the wall? Do you prefer the exception or the rule? One commenter will be randomly drawn to win a copy of my debut, SEDUCING THE DUCHESS.

I was born and raised in East Texas, moved to Colorado after getting married seven years ago, and have been craving snow-free winters ever since. I have a husband who just keeps getting better and better over time, a wonderful 1-year-old daughter who is constantly trying to escape out the doggie door, and am expecting another girl in November. My first published book will be released in October, I have two amazing critique partners, an awesome publisher (NAL), an absolutely fantastic agent (Sara Megibow of the Nelson Literary Agency) and, as can be seen above, a slight problem with using too many adjectives.
Life is simply…fantastic.
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Seducing the Duchess is available from Signet. You can buy it here or here in e-format.