Names, names, names

Hello everyone!

I have a different sort of post today. It’s not a new story. Sorry! I am actively writing and editing, though, and I’ll have ‘interesting news’ later this year. 🙂 Instead, I thought I’d talk about names, specifically where I find them. I do get around to talking about The Marriage Bargain, including a scene from it, partly because it fits this post well and partly to celebrate the audiobook release (via Audible).

Obviously, naming characters is an important part of writing a story. In JAFF, we have a lot of names decided for us, though we lack first names for some, such as Colonel Fitzwilliam or Mr and Mrs Bennet. But secondary characters need names too.

When I started writing Regency stories, I looked into naming conventions a little bit. It was not a big surprise to learn that family names were common, meaning naming children after parents and other relatives. Some names were used a lot, such as Anne, Elizabeth, Jane, Richard, Thomas, William—sound familiar? The eldest daughter was often named after her mother (which would mean Mrs Bennet’s name is also Jane), sons after fathers, and so on. This is by no means simply a matter of the period. Looking at my family tree, there are some names that come up a lot too, notably Mary and its variations (my middle name is Marie, my maternal grandmother and great-grandmother are both Marys, one of my maternal aunts is Maria, my paternal grandmother was Lucia Maria…you get the idea). In fiction, this can quickly become a problem. How many Johns or Annes can you have running through a story without confusing readers and yourself? Nicknames can help, and they were used in the Regency, just as they are now. I have done that, such as in The Recovery of Fitzwilliam Darcy in which I have both a Frederick (father) and Freddie (son). Better still, of course, is simply to find a way to give people unique names, and that is what I try to do. One of the characters in my latest novel, The Marriage Bargain, was changed at the last minute when my editor realised I had double-used a name.

Surnames are trickier, at least for me. There are websites where you can search for British surnames, and I sometimes go to them. What I more often do, though, is observe the world around me. I like to take walks, and I happen to live near a large cemetery. If a name strikes me as I walk by the stones and monuments, I make a note of it for possible future use in a special file on my phone. Sometimes seeing a name even sparks a plot bunny—some small, some large. Take for instance these examples: Wickson and Darby. Can you not imagine a story in which there is confusion based on the name? Someone hears/says Darby when they mean Darcy or talks about Wickham when they mean Wickson? That could be fun, and it shows that inspiration can come from the most unexpected places. I’ve learned to write ideas such as this down immediately before I forget them. I also use a voice recorder on my phone, though not in public. But, oh, the number of times I’ve gotten out of the shower and started recording notes on a story I’m writing or ideas for another one! One of my furry-babies is usually keeping me company, and she gives me strange looks when I start babbling. Or maybe she’s just insulted I’m not talking to her? Haha

One of my original characters is Viscount Bramwell, a.k.a. Sterling Fitzwilliam. I introduced him in a modern story as Sterling Fitzwilliam only. They story has never been published, but those of you who followed the online boards twelve or thirteen years ago might remember it (The Course of True Love). As in my Regency works, Sterling is a cousin to Darcy on his mother’s side. I can’t remember where I got Sterling from. I liked the sound of it, and it seemed to fit his privileged, somewhat egotistical persona. At the time, I also introduced Rebecca, Darcy’s cousin on his father’s side—as she has been in other stories, including Being Mrs Darcy and The Recovery of Fitzwilliam Darcy. I added her to be Sterling’s love interest and, just as importantly, a good friend to Elizabeth. Georgiana is always a friend possibility, but she is somewhat younger than Elizabeth, and I wanted her to have someone in more of the same life stage. Rebecca’s surname in The Course of True Love was Strachan, which I reused in The Marriage Bargain for Marian, a kind lady Elizabeth meets in town and befriends. It was my own personal nod to the earlier story, and one I absolutely did not expect anyone else to pick up on!

The name Bramwell came along when I needed a title for Sterling in Being Mrs Darcy. In this case, I was inspired by music. I have album of violin concertos performed by the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra that I listen to a fair bit. It was from the time when Bramwell Tovey was the orchestra’s music director. The name Bramwell stuck with me, and I pulled it out to use as soon as a had a chance.

The other source of ideas is streets names. Living in Toronto, a lot of the names are English, which is handy for me. (I feel it is important to recognise that that, today, a strong minority of Toronto residents—about 40 percent—first learned a language other than English or French, Canada’s two official languages. This is not really reflected in our place names. The lack of Indigenous names is, to me, a particularly glaring oversight.) It was from street names that I found what I needed for The Marriage Bargain. As I was writing it, I just didn’t feel that my usual Fitzwilliam family worked, given the roles I needed them to play. This was especially true in relation to Elizabeth. I wanted the cousins—notably Rebecca, who is already the viscountess—to be more suspicious of Elizabeth. I could write Lord and Lady Romsley (the earl and countess) as being unpleasant if I had to, but I decided it would be better to change all the names; even Colonel Fitzwilliam, who I usually give the first name Thomas, got a new one. The question became, what to call them. Fortunately, on one of my walks, I came across the name Servington, which coincidentally is close to a street called Manor. Thus the Earl and Countess of Servington were named, as was the earl’s estate, Servington Manor. (Before it became final, I did a quick Internet search to make sure there wasn’t an actual Lord Servington.) Dewsbury, the viscount’s name, is one I had on my list from a previous walk in the cemetery.

By the way, Bramwell, Rebecca, and the Romsleys will be making a reappearance in my next novel. I won’t say more about it now other than that I think you will like the Bramwell, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Rebecca characters. You’ll also discover cameos of two of our dear family of fellow JAFF lovers relating back to the fundraiser we did for Ukraine in the winter.

So, there you have it, a quick introduction to how I decide on names for my characters. I thought I’d end with a scene from The Marriage Bargain. In it, Elizabeth and Darcy have been married for several months. They are getting along fairly well, but they have not yet reached their crisis moment (the Hunsford proposal equivalent) and the inevitable reconciliation that comes after it. She has met Lady Servington—who was dismissive and insulting—before, but not Lord Servington.

Lord Servington returned to London and insisted the Darcys call on him. With reluctance, Darcy escorted Elizabeth and a pale, trembling Georgiana to Fitzwilliam House, where they were greeted by the countess, the Dewsburys, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. He did his best to prepare Elizabeth for the encounter, as he did before they called on Lady Servington.

“I am growing somewhat accustomed to…being dismissed,” she had said. “Worry about Georgiana and yourself, not me.”

Her statement left him uneasy, but he took her at her word, while also vowing to keep an eye on her as well as his sister.

When the earl strode into the room, a cold sweat trickled down Darcy’s back. He introduced him to Elizabeth and watched as Lord Servington peered at her, his eyes narrowed to thin slits. Praying the call was of short duration, Darcy surveyed the room’s occupants whilst he took Georgiana’s trembling arm. If her shaking grew much worse, he doubted she would be able to remain on her feet. Lady Dewsbury clutched her husband’s arm, and he absently patted her hand; Colonel Fitzwilliam stood as if prepared to jump into battle. As for Lady Servington, she appeared almost gleeful, as if she expected the earl to issue a delicious set down.

After a silence that seemed to last ten minutes, Lord Servington grunted—the sound remarkably like that of a pig—turned his back to them, and sat in the largest chair in the room, which was always reserved for him. Darcy’s shoulders fell a fraction of an inch, though his muscles remained stiff, and he followed Lady Dewsbury’s subtle signal that he, Georgiana, and Elizabeth should sit together on a sofa.

“How was your journey?” Darcy asked his uncle once he had his sister and wife settled.

Lord Servington opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Lady Servington said, “Susan, ring for tea.”

No doubt, she chose that exact moment to issue her order just to annoy the earl. Lord Servington hated to be interrupted.

The earl said, “Damn tedious. I was told you officially resigned your post. Is that correct?” When Darcy said it was, Lord Servington grunted again. “Good. You never should have taken it. Halsley only secured it for you as an affront to me. Meddling old—”

“Yes, well it is over now.” Lady Servington surveyed her rings as she spoke. “It was disgraceful while it lasted. On that we can agree. If you must berate the boy about anything, it should be his foolish marriage and—”

“Enough,” Lord Servington punched the chair’s arm.

It is seldom I thank you for anything, Darcy thought, but for that, I do. I can only imagine what she had planned to say next.

“Tell me what improvements have been made at Pemberley,” demanded Lord Servington.

“Only what was necessary. I assure you, my estate is in good hands. I will have it back to what it should be within five years, less if I am fortunate.”

“Do not take that insolent tone with me!”

Fortunately, the refreshments arrived, and the earl remained silent as Lady Servington told her daughter-in-law to serve them. Dewsbury provided her some minor assistance, though she brought Elizabeth her cup, a piece of shortbread neatly tucked beside it on the dish. She whispered, “Take no notice of anything he says. This cannot last long.” Elizabeth offered her a quick smile in return.

Over the next quarter of an hour, Lord Servington might as well have been giving a speech in the House. He spoke in a booming voice without interruption, even when he asked Darcy or Georgiana a question, which at least spared them the necessity of responding. He predicted Darcy would fail at Pemberley and said Lady Servington was unhappy with Georgiana’s progress. He added that he believed Lady Servington spoke the truth when she said their niece would not be prepared to enter society, at least not without shaming them all, because Georgiana must naturally be better off with them than with Darcy and ‘that low-born woman you married for her money’. He demanded that Mr Gardiner would never darken the Darcys’ doorstep and, further, they cut all ties with him.

The air around him change as anger took hold of Elizabeth, almost as if he were standing outside just before a storm erupted. After carefully balancing his empty cup on his lap, he surreptitiously rested a hand against her back and caressed it, hoping it would soothe her agitation and encourage her to continue her silence. The earl’s provocations were worse than he had expected them to be, and he admired her fortitude. Only knowing the situation would end in a screaming match kept him silent. Darcy also took Georgiana’s cup, which was rattling against the dish, from her but was not sure what to do with it, given there was no table nearby or servant to whom he could give it. The colonel evidently saw his difficulty and took it from him, after which Darcy covered Georgiana’s hand with his.

When Lord Servington paused to draw breath, Dewsbury said, “Well, that was exhaustive, Father.”

“Do not speak to your father that way,” Lady Servington hissed.

“What way?” asked Dewsbury, affecting ignorance. “I only wished to make an announcement before Darcy and his ladies take their leave. I know the time has flown by, but they have been here half an hour already, and Susan needs her rest.”

Lord Servington’s gaze swung to Dewsbury. “Why? What is the matter with her?”

Dewsbury said, “I do not recall,” while his wife said, “I woke with a headache this morning.”

Lady Servington scowled. “A headache? I thought perhaps you finally had interesting news for us. Why, I was on the point of presenting Lord Servington with an heir when we were married as long as you and my son have been.”

If you only knew, Darcy thought*. He was thankful that, for whatever their faults—and his parents had had many—they were never as absurd as the Fitzwilliams. I cannot imagine Elizabeth and I would ever treat each other or our children in such a manner. He squeezed Georgiana’s hand and stood.

“Dewsbury is right. We have remained long enough and are expecting guests this evening.” His aunt wanted to know whom, but he neglected her enquiry. “Lord Servington, it was pleasure to see you again. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us.” That is what I learnt at the position you despise so greatly—how to give a meaningless yet civil response.

He, Elizabeth, and Georgiana said hasty adieus and left the room as quickly as possible without running.

*Susan, Lady Dewsbury, is pregnant.

Thanks for reading!