LOVE AND PROPERTY
“Marriage is a rotten deal for a woman.”
When Ella Shane says this to Gilbert Saint Aubyn, Duke of Leith, in a key scene in her first outing, A FATAL FINALE, set in the spring of 1899, she’s not flirting or exaggerating; she’s just stating a simple fact of 19th century life, at least from her point of view.
She’s also giving the main reason it takes her three books, several murders, and a brush with death to decide to marry the Duke. Marriage seems like prison to Ella, an Irish-Jewish Lower East Side orphan who’s clawed out an independent life and career as an opera singer specializing in “trouser,” male soprano, roles.
It was certainly the end of legal freedom for most women at the time.
Even in the late 19th century, when a woman married, she essentially ceased to exist as an independent person. The legal doctrine was called “femme couvert,” literally translated as “covered woman,” meaning the woman’s rights were covered by her husband’s power. You can see how that could lead to all sorts of trouble.
All of a woman’s money and property, not to mention her person – and her children – were (at least legally) under her husband’s control. She could earn money, but he decided how it was spent. She would bear the children and raise them, but they, too, were his property.
Laws were starting to address the idea that married women might inherit or earn property of their own, but on the ground, men still had close to absolute power over their wives.
By the late 1800s and early 1900s, divorce was just barely possible in particularly egregious cases of abuse or financial neglect – and men could ditch an unfaithful wife. But a woman could not expect to take her children with her if she left a bad marriage, even a horrifically abusive one.
In less extreme cases, women just had to put up with the daily knowledge that they weren’t real people in the eyes of the law, with little or none of the power that a man had. A woman could do almost nothing without her husband’s consent – and that didn’t change for decades. There are plenty of women today old enough to remember having to ask their husbands to co-sign on their credit cards.
Women like Ella, single and making a living on her own, were rare in the Victorian era, but not unknown. Often, they lived with parents or family, as Ella does with her cousin Tommy, and often (based on advice writing and fiction of the time) the families vexed about having an independent woman around, and what to do with her.
Until then, a woman alone with money was usually a widow, and people knew how to handle that. She was taking care of her late husband’s estate for the benefit of her children, and needed some legal and social room for the purpose. A single woman? Who knows what she might do?
The one thing she certainly could do, though, is run her own affairs without anything more than advice from a man. Ella is well aware of that, and while she’s glad to have Tommy as friend, protector and manager, she also prizes her independence.
Independence she won’t surrender in a match with any man, never mind a worthy one who is her equal. If a clerk expects his wife to stop working and tend to his home, how much more would a powerful and well-off man expect? The answer, of course, is everything. Women with careers, whether on the stage or elsewhere, generally gave them up when they married.
Ella has no interest in becoming a bird in a gilded cage.
All of this is in the room when the Duke makes his reply to Ella’s comment: “Depends on who’s setting the terms.”
The terms are what makes all the difference, and why Ella and Gil finally married in A FATAL RECEPTION. And they’ll still be working out the terms in the next book – this spring’s A FATAL WALTZ. But that’s a story for another Throwback Thursday!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
When Ella Shane says this to Gilbert Saint Aubyn, Duke of Leith, in a key scene in her first outing, A FATAL FINALE, set in the spring of 1899, she’s not flirting or exaggerating; she’s just stating a simple fact of 19th century life, at least from her point of view.
She’s also giving the main reason it takes her three books, several murders, and a brush with death to decide to marry the Duke. Marriage seems like prison to Ella, an Irish-Jewish Lower East Side orphan who’s clawed out an independent life and career as an opera singer specializing in “trouser,” male soprano, roles.
It was certainly the end of legal freedom for most women at the time.
Even in the late 19th century, when a woman married, she essentially ceased to exist as an independent person. The legal doctrine was called “femme couvert,” literally translated as “covered woman,” meaning the woman’s rights were covered by her husband’s power. You can see how that could lead to all sorts of trouble.
All of a woman’s money and property, not to mention her person – and her children – were (at least legally) under her husband’s control. She could earn money, but he decided how it was spent. She would bear the children and raise them, but they, too, were his property.
Laws were starting to address the idea that married women might inherit or earn property of their own, but on the ground, men still had close to absolute power over their wives.
By the late 1800s and early 1900s, divorce was just barely possible in particularly egregious cases of abuse or financial neglect – and men could ditch an unfaithful wife. But a woman could not expect to take her children with her if she left a bad marriage, even a horrifically abusive one.
In less extreme cases, women just had to put up with the daily knowledge that they weren’t real people in the eyes of the law, with little or none of the power that a man had. A woman could do almost nothing without her husband’s consent – and that didn’t change for decades. There are plenty of women today old enough to remember having to ask their husbands to co-sign on their credit cards.
Women like Ella, single and making a living on her own, were rare in the Victorian era, but not unknown. Often, they lived with parents or family, as Ella does with her cousin Tommy, and often (based on advice writing and fiction of the time) the families vexed about having an independent woman around, and what to do with her.
Until then, a woman alone with money was usually a widow, and people knew how to handle that. She was taking care of her late husband’s estate for the benefit of her children, and needed some legal and social room for the purpose. A single woman? Who knows what she might do?
The one thing she certainly could do, though, is run her own affairs without anything more than advice from a man. Ella is well aware of that, and while she’s glad to have Tommy as friend, protector and manager, she also prizes her independence.
Independence she won’t surrender in a match with any man, never mind a worthy one who is her equal. If a clerk expects his wife to stop working and tend to his home, how much more would a powerful and well-off man expect? The answer, of course, is everything. Women with careers, whether on the stage or elsewhere, generally gave them up when they married.
Ella has no interest in becoming a bird in a gilded cage.
All of this is in the room when the Duke makes his reply to Ella’s comment: “Depends on who’s setting the terms.”
The terms are what makes all the difference, and why Ella and Gil finally married in A FATAL RECEPTION. And they’ll still be working out the terms in the next book – this spring’s A FATAL WALTZ. But that’s a story for another Throwback Thursday!
Got a #ThrowbackThursday idea? Drop it in the comments!
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Ella Shane and the Duke of Leith, Gilbert Saint Aubyn, share a complex, evolving dynamic centered around independence and respect. Ella is fiercely self-reliant, having built a career and life on her terms in a society that often left women powerless. The Duke, a man of privilege and status, understands this about her and respects her autonomy.
Their relationship thrives on mutual understanding and recognition that any partnership must honour Ella’s independence. Gilbert's reply to Ella's comment about marriage being a "rotten deal for a woman"—"Depends on who’s setting the terms"—captures his willingness to challenge societal norms and create a relationship where they can be equals. This dynamic makes their journey to marriage a balancing act, as both work to find terms that preserve Ella's freedom while fostering their connection.
Their ongoing negotiations reflect a rare and progressive bond for their era, showing that love doesn’t have to mean sacrifice—especially for a woman determined to maintain her individuality. It's an inspiring interplay of equality and affection.