The first obstacle was the passing of my brother-in-law and my duty to pay most attention to my wife as we cleared the house and consigned most of the surviving artifacts of her family either to the landfill or to storage at home and a pending garage sale to clear them out.

The writing surrendered its prime place to all this. Poor Masquerade, that had just been released had absolutely zero help to make its way in the world. I have seen nothing in the way of royalty statements for it yet, but they can hardly be good. I will do some catching up there.

I have started to prepare a new project—a novella in honour of the 200th anniversary of the release, in January 1813, of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. How does a writer of SF and fantasy  find his way into Austen country? Well, by unleashing his fascination for the Regency world and a secret trip into a totally unsuspected multiverse. Gisel Matah, my feisty protagonist of the Iskander series comes along to help.  Stay tuned and thou wilt see.

One way or another the economy will settle down again…either in pieces or in some new interesting chaos and we can get back to living our own lives again. When I have the freedom to spend some days on promoting Masquerade around the web I will do so. I see from tonight’s news that the first glimmers of realistic evaluation of the Canadian economy seem to be starting and so the ‘Loonie’ may recover its parity soon and I might gamble on ordering some new inventory at a price that makes it possible to sell them.

If anyone reading this would like to go to http://www.double-dragon-ebooks.com/single.php?ISBN=1-55404-952-0 and read the blurb for Masquerade it is possible they might find the price of $5.99 for the e-book a worthwhile investment of their time and reading experience. If some friendly writers/reviewers would like to respond via comments we might arrange an equitable co-reviewing arrangement and I can send a free pdf copy.

Masquerade is released today. Only available on the publisher’s site at the moment http://www.double-dragon-ebooks.com/single.php?ISBN=1-55404-952-0 but in all the popular e-book formats. The e-book is fifteen percent off this week at $5.09.

I will have to ask him if it will be released as a Lulu POD paperback—he has reverted to Lulu from the LSI POD system that I persuaded him to use before. Probably too expensive from Lulu for me to stock a few to sell.

I guess that gives me something to be busy with while I await word on the submissions I have out there—Mindstream and the first two novellas of Steaming to Romance; and the outcome of Rast’s nomination in the Global e-Book Awards..

On Friday, I had an e-mail from the publisher of my Iskander novels that he wanted to release Masquerade, the fifth of the series, before he went away for Easter. He needed me to resend the edited file and the blurb file—that I managed to do before the deadline he gave (about an hour away). The last note he sent indicated he had the material in time, but there must have been a glitch somewhere, because it never appeared on the site.

I expect to find out what happened after Easter…sometime. Perhaps he had a problem with the stock photo I sent for him to build the cover around. It’s basically the photo above—that I used to illistrate the story on my website. My apologies for not posting here for awhile—I was waiting for this news.

So…sometime in the Spring is the release date. I don’t know how I will start the buzz with that vague target. I guess the thing to do is assume it will appear in April until it doesn’t. He will probably get back to me sometime about the cover and I can remind him that I sent him an iStock picture that he agreed would be a good foundation for a cover. I might have a better idea for release date after that.

Masquerade is my Iskander series version of the old ‘Man in the iron mask’ trope, except Gisel soon learns who he is, but the where he is proves more difficult. I do have a real iron mask in the story, which is more that the original man had—the sources say the mask was of fabric and the iron merely poetic exaggeration. The suggested identity of the original has been anyone from the manservant of an important French nobleman of the 17th century to the real Louis XIVth, but they are all guesses. Gisel knows who her quarry is but has to prove it before the rescue can begin.

The cast in the story includes old hands like the Crown Prince of Lingdon and his uncle the Duke of Marsden; the villainous Zagdorf (of course); Hannan Badry the oceanographer and Gisel’s friend up until the breakup of the relationship with Henrik Matah (so sometime a bit testy as Gisel’s superior officer); Sergeant Crockley, Gisel’s faithful side-kick; Marc Chronon still trying to become Gisel’s lover; and a few other standbys. New characters portrayed include Countess Felicie d’Bormonde, the missing man’s sister; a fisherman called Reeny; Henrik Matah’s new girlfriend, Katya, the daughter of Count Bergrund, the Iskander steelworks landlord; the cause of the whole problem, Chancellor Marin, who hopes to have the Empire save his neck; and the brave Dowager Duchess of Burgundene who takes her time to decide if Gisel is trustworthy.

Masquerade is a bit different than the other Iskander stories in that the young Gisel is in this over her head, and spends much time and energy trying to keep allies in order. The lesson she learns best is that dynastic quarrels can turn around to bite you.

Before I leave “Regency Bagatelle” completely I will mention again that it was started as an exercise in Regency thinking and style at the end of May, and posts continued until the last on December 6th. I expect to do some work on the ending and the events pointing to the ending to make it more polished and give the novella away on my website, my Muse Publisher’s site, and at other promotion spots. It will tie in with my “Steaming to Romance” Regency Romance/Steampunk crossover series—the first two novellas submitted to Muse yesterday.

I have a free Iskander novella on my website http://christopherhoare.ca/ at the moment, called “Gisel Matah and the Slave Ship” that shows the increasingly savvy Gisel dealing with obstructions and dangers from both friends and enemies. One of the themes in the series has been to show that shortsighted friends and allies can sometimes be as big a problem as sworn enemies. If I write more novels in the series they will likely be on the themes of hubris and greed as Iskander grows into a rich and powerful society within the 17th century world of Gaia.

I’ll end this post with a brief outline of the published and forthcoming novels in the series. “Arrival” is labelled Book Three but that was the publisher looking at the publication date and not the story chronology. It is the very start of Gisel’s and the Iskanders’ adventures when they landed on Gaia and found they could never get away again. “Masquerade” slots in the following story year with Gisel now seventeen and an officer trainee for security and clandestine operations. The next story in the series has never been more than drafted…it would be called “Iskander’s Wildcat” and cover her activities in General Lord Ricart’s staff, and her with a rifle company holding a key village and crossroads at the centre of the Battle of Borhye.

The free novella “Gisel Matah and the Slave Ship’ is the next year in story time and starts the  adventures when Iskander sends its growing maritime forces to the Cosmoneos (the new world) to pick up cargoes of raw rubber and kerosine, and perhaps steal the bullion from the Empire’s annual convoy. Gisel is now nineteen and (after GMSS closes) she goes on to spy on the Empire’s main port for the export of gold and silver from their slave-worked mines.

The first published Iskander story, “Deadly Enterprise”, comes next where she meets the banker’s son Yohan Felger and foils a coup d’etat. It is followed by “The Wildcat’s Victory” when Gisel adds commanding a cavalry screen in war to her repertoire of security and business management. The final Iskander story (for now) “The Wildcat’s Burden” has the married and pregnant Gisel trying to juggle starting a family with an Iskander post as the military governor of the most turbulent city in the world. She’s only twenty-two and the social conflicts as well as marriage and childbirth have her wondering what she should be doing with her life.

Regency Bagatelle:

As it transpired, the discussion between Mr Author and Miss Matah met several delays…first the late serving of the dinner cook had had to put aside to prepare for the babe, then the lengthy family discussion into the measures they needed to take to care of the mother and child—where Miss Matah’s advice was widely sought. As a result, the next day they walked out into a brisk December morning to a terrace adorned with an overnight coating of snow before finding the time and place for the discussion intended.

“I know you have been anxiously looking for an opportunity to whisk me away from these people,” Gisel said, “but now it seems I must stay…at least until they have some better idea about the care needed by a premature baby. From what I hear, preemies usually die, here.”

“My own understanding as well, but we must not contravene the regulation that forbids the dissemination of anachronistic information. You have already gone way over that boundary, but I would not condemn you for it.”

“For what it’s worth, I did send Mr Bingley to Lambton to fetch the physician, but the birth would still have happened before his return…if he had been sober anough to attend.”

“That was probably a fortunate accident— Haggerston intimated to me that he is an incompetent drunk. But you turned out to be a fine midwife—I never knew.”

“I had never been the midwife before, but I did help my mother attend several births when she donated her time to the charity clinic. With those poor Dalits in the Mumbai slums, every birth seemed a crisis—at least to me. I was only thirteen at the time.”

“Good grief, it’s a wonder you weren’t scared off romantic affairs for life.”

Gisel laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “I might have learned to be more cautious, at least.”

“You said that, not me.”

“Hello, can I join you?”

They turned to see Miss Austen stepping carefully across the snow, wrapped in a huge travelling cloak. “We are discussing plans for our departure,” Mr Author answered, “but perhaps we will need your advice.”

“Anything I can offer is willingly given,” she said, “but first let me remark upon that wonderful, full bodied laugh that greeted me as I stepped onto the terrace. How I wish I were free enough to give vent to such an uninhibited burst of merriment—at least to do so in public instead of in carefully modulated tones in the privacy of my or my sister Cassandra’s bedroom. It must surely tell me that women are as free as birds in the world you live in, Miss Matah. I might even suggest that the loss of a measure of decorum is a fair payment for such privilege. Would it possibly be appropriate for me to ask the cause of such a laugh…it is so welcome after the cautious bravery that the family has adopted this morning.”

“Well…” Mr Author began.

Gisel dismissed his caution with a careless wave. “It is completely scandalous, Miss Austen—even though it only hints at the romantic adventures I have had since becoming a character in Mr Author’s tales.”

“Good gracious.”

“And you don’t know half of it, from your current perspective.”

Gisel smiled. “Oh, there’s more? Do tell me if the affairs end in happier circumstances than those in my past.”

“You know I cannot do that, but I can at least tell you that you will meet someone who will become a life partner.”

“That’s good to know. I presume our partnership will not be as reckless and notorious as those in my past. Lord Ricart is an exciting lover but as unfaithful as an alley cat.”

Miss Austen placed her hands over her mouth. “Enough, Dear. You must certainly not add to my embarrassment and confusion by revealing any details. Consider the achievement of a comfortable partnership to be more than enough happiness for this earth…this is all that young women here look for.”

“Let’s get back to the topic we were discussing,” Mr Author suggested. “Who can you instruct in caring for a premature baby, that you might safely leave in charge? Did your mother instruct you in that?”

“Not to the necessary degree…good lord, she trained as an obstetrician/pediatrician for eight years. Only a fraction of that rubbed off on me. I’ve prettywell come to the end of my knowlege already. Keep the child from infection and feed her up with the nutrition she needs and everything we can do will have been done. As far as I can tell, she has no congenital defects, but it’d take a hospital’s diagnostic lab to search as thoroughly as would be done in your society…or mine.”

Miss Austen stared at them in surprise. “You speak of great knowlege and wonderful techniques, but are we so backward here in England?”

“Let me put it this way, Miss Austen. In England before the Regency there was very little sound understanding of disease and treatment and a great deal of ignorance-driven superstition, but it is the time from whence great advances in medical sciences begin. New knowlege takes generations to become established. For example, the microscope dates from 1620 and yet the pivotal discoveries of van Leeuwenhoek—blood corpuscules, capillaries, and the structure of nerves— were not made until almost a hundred years later.”

She seemed appalled. “Oh dear, you make me quite apprehensive of my health already. How does one learn about these great advances?”

“The first changes has to be in the training and licensing of doctors. While they trained in theory rather than practice at first, the practical changes gradually made better medical treatment more accessible.”

Gisel took her hand reassuringly. “Every community knows its best healers…the power of word of mouth is the soundest test. But some benchmarks exist, and the strongest is likely the doctor’s unwillingness to implement the harmful practice of blood-letting. It is in the blood that the body’s best defenses…its immune system…reside. The sick and injured cannot afford to lose any of it.”

“Dear me. Your words make me think my writing had been better aimed at studying those topics instead of the idiosyncracies of family and social mores.”

“Not at all. Miss Austen. You have provided a grounding in understanding the sources of our current manners and civility—or perhaps more properly, our lack of them.”

Gisel nodded. “And in my age, even less social gentility. I would suggest a return to your age, its manners, its careful correspondence, its acceptance, and its slower pace would do the present worlds, whatever they may be, a great incentive to live on a more human and less technological level. It may be a great wonder for us to be able to journey through time and space, but no real benefit is derived unless we might return to our own with the incentive to bring our learning back with us.”

Mr Author decided upon having the last word. “Indeed, it is only by retreating from the frenetic pace of our own worlds that we find a quiet place to stand, where we can evaluate what we, collectively, are doing.”

And now….Gisel surprises everyone:

After about an hour, the returning carriage was spied in the distance where the driveway crested the distant hill. Those with the best eyesight pronounced that Mr Darcy was at the reins, as he had been when they left, and another gentleman, likely Mr Bingley, rode Agamemnon beside the carriage. No one knew whether to be reassured or dismayed to note that the party proceded at a very measured pace. Was haste no longer necessary…and why?

Again almost the whole household gathered at the front door and down the entrance steps to be there at the moment of arrival. All save Mrs Bennet, it must be noted, because she had taken to her bed where she waited in great fear for the bad news she expected.

Mr Author stood at the bottom of the steps with as much apprehension as the others. When Mr Bingley leaped from Agamamnon to go to the door of the carriage as soon as it stopped, the whole company of watchers emitted a long sigh.

Mr Darcy paused before tying the reins. “Everyone is well,” he called. “Mr and Mrs Bingley have a healthy baby daughter.”

The servants and some of the family broke into applause, and then cheers as the swaddled babe was passed from inside the carriage into Mr Bingley’s waiting arms.

Noting that Agamemnon was now loose and starting to move away, Mr Author nudged one of the stable lads to go and catch him. “Right yer be, Sir. I has’n.”

Mr Bingley stood waiting while Mrs Bingley was helped from the carriage and into the arms of her sister and Miss Matah. Then the entire group moved to the steps and slowly ascended to enter the house. Mr Darcy climbed down from the box as another stable lad came forward to catch the headstalls of the lead horses.

He went to the carriage door to help another young lady dismount. Miss Georgiana turned away from the first party to hurry forward to greet her. “Miss Bingley, I hope you are not too fatigued from all the troubles. Come with me, we must find a comfortable place beside the fire for you.”

The footmen hurried forward to carry off the luggage that had been transferred from the broken carriage as Mr Darcy stopped beside Mr Author to introduce this new arrival. “This is Miss Caroline Bingley, Mr Bingley’s younger sister. Mr Author is a house guest visiting with Miss Matah, Miss Caroline.”

Mr Author bowed slightly in answer to Miss Bingley’s slight curtsy. The ‘charmed to meet you’s were carelessly spoken. He was intrigued to meet the Bingley sister who had set her heart at Mr Darcy long before Elizabeth Bennet had ever met him and who had waged a bitter battle of rivalry with her. Now a house guest—how would the two get on under Mr Darcy’s roof?

Once inside the house, Haggerston urged the guests to gather in the front parlour where a good fire blazed, but Mr Author turned aside to follow the birthing party up the stairs so he could tell Gisel what measures he had taken to prepare sterilised containers and boiled water. He caught up to the kitchen girl who had carried out the work as she ascended at the rear of the group with two of the china jugs.

“I’ll explain to Miss Matah what you have prepared, Ruby. If it is not exactly to her wishes the fault will be mine.”

He followed to the door to the room Mrs Bingley and the babe were to have, but did not enter into this decidedly female sanctum. Mrs Darcy bent over a small crib tending the the child who sobbed softly once or twice. He did hear some of the discussion, that seemed to be about the need for the midwife, still expected to arrive, and the desirability of hiring a wet nurse.

“I don’t recommend using a wet nurse if Mrs Bingley is able to feed the baby,” he heard Gisel say. “The child is about four weeks premature, as near as we can ascertain, which means she is deficient in the nutrients essential to her final development. However, nature has taken measures to help—the mother’s milk will be especially rich in those nutrients.”

“Then we will do our best to accommodate that need. Is that acceptable, Jane?”

Jane Bingley, looking somewhat tired and dishevelled as she sat on the edge of the bed, smiled and nodded her head. “Whatever needs be done, Lizzy. I am in your hands as well as in your great debt, And Miss Matah—I do not know that I can do enough to thank you.”

Gisel looked toward the door, and seemed surprised to see Mr Author there with Ruby.

“I had Ruby, here, prepare some boiled water and sterilised containers. I thought you might be needing them.”

“Thank you, I will. Bring them in, Ruby.” She grinned at Mr Author. “I will see you downstairs when we have settled the mother and child.”

Mr Author backed away from the door, making room for Miss Georgiana and Miss Austen to enter. Miss Austen paused in the doorway to speak to him.

“I’m sure you didn’t plan your young lady to be a midwife,” she said softly. “Her knowledge is sound?”

“I did have her memory of her mother’s expertise help her at other times. That the two volunteered in a clinic for the poor is a reasonable extention of my author’s intention. Gisel must have been quite young, though.”

“The mother would have wanted her daughter to become a healer as well, I expect.”

“Yes, Gisel was expected to follow her mother’s profession at one time. I’ve decided that Gisel’s own daughter will one day take up the calling,”

That was the end of the conversation as the door was closed to allow Mrs Bingley be prepared for bed.

Now, back to Bagatelle… this post follows directly from the preceeding one below.

When the coach party left, and Miss Austen, Miss Georgiana, and Mr Bennet took care of the hysterical Mrs Bennet upstairs Mr Author was left alone while Haggerston went to prepare the house for the arrivals.

He had to marvel that Gisel had more talents than even he had written for her—surely a huge example of a character going far beyond the author’s intention. His plot intention was to give her one of the most valuable of intellectual abilities, the gift of almost perfect recall. Whatever she learned, indeed whatever she saw, heard, or participated in was stored where she might call upon it at need. He hoped her store of knowledge included the care of premature babies … how many weeks premature was the Bingley babe?

No doubt the expertise of Regency England was poorly equipped to save such a child from an early death, but perhaps that offered him a small opportunity to help. He found his way to the servants’ stairs and went down to the kitchens.

A very stout lady with grey hair looked up from a mixing bowl as he entered. “Can I help thee, Sir? This be kitchen.”

“Yes, I see. I was looking for Mr Haggerston and the girls he has gathered to help with the arrivals … particularly the babe.”

“Ah, thou needst not bother yoursel’ with that, Sir. The servants will do all that be needed.”

“Perhaps, but if Miss Matah is taking a major part in the matter I have a very good idea what measures and treatments she will insist upon. It seems to me that I can assist by preparing Mr Haggerston for some of the demands she might make.”

“I don’t know, I’m sure … we has not had a birth at Pemberly since Miss Georgiana was —“ She cut off as Haggerston came bustling in with one of the upstairs maids. “Why, here he be, now.”

“Can I help you, Sir?”

“Well, actually I have come down here to offer you my assistance. I was just telling Cook that Miss Matah will have some definite instructions that none of you may be familiar with … if Mr Darcy and the Bingleys ask her to continue helping.”

“Really, Sir?”

“I’m sure you know that a premature baby is in a medical emergency. I suspect Miss Matah may be able to offer valuable help, but she will need to use her medical knowledge rather than rely upon English custom. Not that I wish to impugn good English custom. I hope you understand what I mean.”

Haggerston nodded to the maid to continue what he had instructed and then turned to Mr Author. “I understand, Sir, that you and Miss Matah are very concerned to help, but I will be bound to follow Mr and Mrs Darcy’s instructions”

“Of course.”

“We, that is the servants and myself, have noticed that the young lady has a very confidant manner, unusual in one so young, but likely merited by her unusually wide experience of the world. It is unheard of that a woman should be reckoned a physician, but if Miss Matah’s mother has indeed passed on such knowledge to her daughter it would be a boon to the family… I hesitate to speak out of turn, but the district has not possessed a good physician since old Dr Farnon died. It is to be hoped that Mr Bingley is unable to rouse Lambton’s Dr Hodgekin from his cups.”

“I see. And is there a good midwife in the district?”

“Mr Darcy has sent Bonsall to fetch old Mrs Brown in the shay. She’s a reliable old soul, but likely to be troubled in the manner of this birthing. It seems usual for such an event to result …” he paused and exchanged a troubled glance with Cook … “in much sadness for the family — not that we does not pray that this should be different.”

“Indeed. It is in my concern to see a better outcome that I offer my suggestions for preparations before the rescuers return. I know that Miss Matah will insist on her methods of preventing sickness if such should threaten.”

“An’ what be those, Sir,” said Cook, taking her hands from the mixing bowl.

“Perhaps nothing that you are not acquainted with. It is a matter of sterilization, the strict methods of cleaning everything that should be brought in contact with the mother and child.”

“An’ how be that done, Sir?”

“By immersing everything in boiling water to kill anything likely to convey sickness to the patients. It is recognized that many harmful disease organisms are too small to see with the unaided eye and that boiling water can kill them.”

“As you says, Sir,” said Cook with a rising colour. “A cook is not unfamiliar with cleanliness—particularly in her kitchen.”

“Then I am sure you can put a reliable girl to work with preparing boiling water, with sterilizing some containers that may be used to store boiled water, and holding herself ready to supply such items as Miss Matah may request.”

Haggerston looked at Cook. “Is that acceptable, Cook? We must not presume to trespass into your kitchen, but I must suggest that the possible plight of mother and babe do call for our most urgent exertions. If dinner must be delayed until we have dealt with the emergency, then delayed it must be.”

“Very well, Mr Haggerston. I will call my girls and set them to work.”

Gisel’s Discovery

The family withdrew to the drawing room but Mr Darcy set a footman to watch for the return of the riders in one of the upstairs windows. Tea time came and went before he came running down the stairs to find the family.

“You see riders?” Mr Darcy asked.

“Er… one rider, Sir.”

The others gathered around as Mr Darcy asked the critical question. “Who?”

“It looks to be Bonsall, Sir.”

The master of the house started toward the door. “He is riding quickly?”

“Not a gallop, Sir, but moderate fast.”

By the time Bonsall trotted up the drive to stop at the front of the house all the house guests and most of the staff were waiting at the top of the steps. “Where is Miss Matah?” Mr Darcy demanded.

“Us found a carriage upturned Sir. Miss Matah is tending to one of the passengers.”

“Good heavens. Is anyone hurt?”

“Not excac’ly hurt, Sir. Seems so the carriage be Mr Bingley’s an’ on ‘is way to Pemberly.”

This caused a great outpouring of consternation among the family and Mr Darcy could not speak again until he had somewhat calmed the anxiety. “Mr Bingley’s? Who then is hurt?”

“Well, Sir. It do seem that young Missus Bingley is in a … what be called a delicate condition—an the bump have started … well. You knows.”

“Oh, My God,” Mrs Darcy gasped.

Mrs Bennet swooned completely away and was only caught with difficulty by Mr Bennet and Haggerston.

“We must send help immediatly, “Mr Darcy announced. “You must ride to town for a physician and a midwife. Have the stable lads get the carriage ready at once—“

“Tis most already done, Sir. Miss Matah have sent Mr Bingley post haste to Lambton on Agamennon. She have set the coachman and footman to buildin’ a fire an collectin’ water for to receive the babe. Her says her has done this afore—helpin’ her own mother atten’ to new mothers…her be some sort of physicer.”

Mr Darcy stopped in mid stride as he turned to Mr Author. “Is this true, Sir?”

“Gisel is very well versed in medical emergencies. I was not aware that she had attended to a birth before, but I’m not surprised, her mother is an excellent physician.”

“But we must go to them at once.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, but we must not preceded with dangerous haste. We must take whatever supplies and comforts are needed to convey the Bingley’s and the new child back to Pemberly.”

Mr Darcy regarded him thoughtfully. “Yes, you are correct. Haggerston, have the staff prepare the house to receive the coach party and have my carriage stocked with blankets and … well, let Mrs Darcy instruct the maids what is needed. You can do that, my Dear?”

Mrs Darcy, who had been moving with such agitation that it seemed she must fly off the steps like a dove taking to the air, now turned back to the house. “Yes, Mr Darcy. I will attend to it at once. I insist I shall be one of the rescue party.”

“Of course, my Dear. You must certainly be there to tend to your sister—-she will be much reassured by your presence.”

*******