The Dancing Master

By Julie Klassen

Finding himself the man of the family, London dancing master Alec Valcourt moves his mother and sister to remote Devonshire, hoping to start over. But he is stunned to learn the village matriarch has prohibited all dancing, for reasons buried deep in her past.

Alec finds an unlikely ally in the matriarch's daughter. Though he's initially wary of Julia Midwinter's reckless flirtation, he comes to realize her bold exterior disguises a vulnerable soul--and hidden sorrows of her own.

Julia is quickly attracted to the handsome dancing master--a man her mother would never approve of--but she cannot imagine why Mr. Valcourt would leave London, or why he evades questions about his past. With Alec's help, can Julia uncover old secrets and restore life to her somber village...and to her mother's tattered heart?

Filled with mystery and romance, The Dancing Master brings to life the intriguing profession of those who taught essential social graces for ladies and gentlemen hoping to make a "good match" in Regency England.



Praise for Julie Klassen's The Tutor's Daughter

"Whether you're a fan of Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte, or both, you will soon become a fan of Julie Klassen once you read this wonderful book."--GoodReads

"Well-developed characters, plot twists, and attention to period detail make this a sure bet for fans of Regency novels."--Library Journal

"Regency/Klassen fans will love the mystery, romance, and drama."--Publishers Weekly



Discussion questions included.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: Jan 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781441263476

Julie Klassen

Julie Klassen (www.julieklassen.com) loves all things Jane--Jane Eyre and Jane Austen. Her books have sold more than 1.5 million copies, and she is a three-time recipient of the Christy Award for Historical Romance. The Secret of Pembrooke Park was honored with the Minnesota Book Award for Genre Fiction. Julie has also won the Midwest Book Award and Christian Retailing's Best Award and has been a finalist in the RITA and Carol Awards. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Julie worked in publishing for sixteen years and now writes full-time. She and her husband have two sons and live in St. Paul, Minnesota. For more information, visit julieklassen.com.

Book preview

1811

Prologue

MAY 1, 1815

BEAWORTHY, DEVONSHIRE, ENGLAND

We observed the first of May as we always did. We dressed somberly and rode in the black barouche from Buckleigh Manor into Beaworthy. It was tradition, my mother said.

But I knew she had another reason for visiting the village on that particular day. Lady Amelia Midwinter wanted to make her presence known—make sure no one dared forget.

We drove first to the flower shop and bought two bouquets—lily of the valley and forget-me-nots.

From there our coachman, Isaacs, halted on the corner of High Street and Green, as he knew to do without being told.

The young groom helped my mother alight. She turned to look back at me, but I ignored her, sullenly remaining in the carriage. This was her tradition, not mine.

She crossed the street and laid one bouquet before the market hall—that center of trade on an island of green amid the cobbled High Street. The place where he died.

Forget-me-nots. Never forget.

She returned to the carriage, though we did not immediately depart. We sat for a few minutes in silence, waiting for the church bells to ring at midday.

Clang, clang, clang . . .

As the last peal faded away, she used one dainty finger to move aside the velvet curtain and survey the street. For a moment her face remained impassive, but then her mouth parted in surprise before stiffening into a grim line.

What is it? I asked, rebellious hope rising in my contrary heart. I slid over to that side of the carriage and looked out the window.

There, before the village green, an elderly woman as thin as a sparrow stood. She held her skirt aloft with one hand and raised her other hand high. She looked this way and that, as though waiting for someone, and for a moment I feared she would be left standing alone in the middle of the street.

Then, from behind the market hall, an old man hobbled into view. He tossed aside his apron and bowed before the woman. And she in turn curtsied. She gave him a girlish smile, and decades flew from her face.

He offered his hand, and she placed hers in his. Together, side by side, they slowly walked up the High Street in a curious rhythm—step, shuffle-step. Step, shuffle-step. Then they faced each other, joined both hands, and turned in a circle.

What are they doing? I breathed in wonder.

My mother snapped, What does it look like?

Who are they? Do you know?

She made no answer.

I glanced over and saw an array of emotions cross her face. Irritation. Pain. Longing.

Who are they? I whispered again.

She kept her gaze trained out the window. On the couple’s retreating figures as they continued their odd shuffle-step up the street.

My mother inhaled deeply, clamping an iron fist over her emotions, whatever they were. A Mr. and Mrs. Desmond, I believe.

I don’t think I know them.

No, Julia. You wouldn’t. They . . . live outside of town.

I felt my face pucker. Then, don’t they know about . . . the rule?

They know.

I glanced at her, but she averted her eyes, using her father’s walking stick to knock against the roof.

At the familiar signal, the coachman called Walk on to the horses and we moved away.

We returned to Buckleigh and paused at the estate’s churchyard. My mother alighted first, waving away the hovering groom and his offered umbrella. I exited after her, and when the young groom offered his hand to help me down, I smiled flirtatiously and enjoyed watching his face redden.

The day had turned pewter grey. A cold drizzle pricked through my thin cape, sending a shiver up my neck.

I followed my mother past lichen-encrusted graves and listing markers. We stopped before the family plot, outlined in brick and set with impressive headstones like dull gems in a macabre bracelet. There I read her brother’s epitaph.

Graham Buckleigh, Lord Upcott

Born January 4, 1776

Died May 1, 1797

Beloved Son & Brother

One and twenty years old, I murmured. So young.

Yes, she whispered.

How did he die? I asked as I did every year, hoping she would one day tell me the whole story.

He was killed in a duel.

Who killed him?

I prefer not to speak his name.

My gaze wandered from the headstone of the uncle I had never met, to settle on that of the aunt I had never met either. She died in childbirth before I was born.

Lady Anne Tremelling

Born December 5, 1777

Died December 9, 1797

Beloved Daughter & Sister

I nodded toward her sister’s headstone. She died less than a year later.

Yes.

My mother bent and laid the bouquet of lily of the valley on her brother’s grave.

Lily of the valley. Tears and humility.

She straightened. We ought not tarry, Julia. Your father is not at all well.

Yes, I am surprised you wanted to come today.

It is tradition.

I sent her a sidelong glance. You believe in carrying on only your own private traditions, I see.

I referred, of course, to May Day, which had not been celebrated in Beaworthy for twenty years—though I had heard whispers about the old tradition and its demise.

Mother turned toward the carriage without reply, and I tried to ignore the sting of rejection as easily as she ignored my sharp tongue.

What was the duel fought over? I asked, following her.

She did not answer. Ahead of us, the waiting groom opened the carriage door.

Why do you not put flowers on your sister’s grave? I asked. Why only your brother’s?

With a glance at the groom, my mother said quietly, We shall discuss the matter another time. Not now. We have left your father alone too long as it is.

I doubted he would mind my absence. But then, I doubted he cared for me at all.

My father left us the next day. And in the aftermath of death, of mourners and bombazine, of funerals and the selection of headstones, we buried my questions along with my father, knowing they would someday be resurrected.

Her Ladyship had been out riding and was dressed in a long riding habit . . . She danced capitally and made use of her riding whip in the most playful manner.

—A New Most Excellent Dancing Master: the Journal of Joseph Lowe

Chapter 1

NOVEMBER 5, 1816

BEAWORTHY, DEVONSHIRE, ENGLAND

Julia Midwinter joined the inhabitants of Beaworthy gathered between the village church and inn. Although Julia’s mother, Lady Amelia, had put a stop to the May Day celebration years ago, the village continued one long-held tradition. Her mother rarely attended, but she allowed Julia to go along with their neighbors, the Allens. Each year on the fifth of November, the villagers encircled a massive stone, some six feet by four and weighing more than a ton—this estimated by a supposedly renowned man of science no one had ever heard of when he visited Beaworthy several years before.

That long-ago year, Julia had stood at the edges of the crowd, watching as the man of science studied the rock with great interest. He peered at it through a magnifying glass and declared there was no stone like it in all of the West Country, nay the whole of England. He scratched his chin and pondered aloud how it had come to be there.

Julia could have told him. Any of the villagers could. But they enjoyed his befuddlement—that they knew something this learned man did not. Every child in Beaworthy had been told the tale sitting atop his grandfather’s knee: The stone had fallen from the devil’s pocket as he fell from heaven to hell. And that was why, every year on the fifth of November, the church bell ringers turned the great stone over—to keep the devil away.

But this year was different. The bell ringers could not turn the stone, despite their straining efforts. Julia, standing there with Sir Herbert Allen and his sons, wondered if the bell ringers had grown too old and feeble.

Men from the crowd joined in, using sturdy poles for leverage, and strength built in the clay works, forges, and fields. More stout poles were brought and more men—Sir Herbert and his sons among them. But still the stone would not budge.

Sir Herbert speculated the ground had frozen early. Others shook their heads and decried such an earthly explanation. No, it could mean only one thing.

The return of the devil.

The most superstitious among them declared it a portent of dire happenings to come. But almost everyone agreed on one thing—change was on the way.

Julia Midwinter hoped they were right.

Anything to shake up the plodding days, endless church services, and somber silent meals. Days spent on needlework for charity, and evenings spent reading Fordyce’s Sermons to Young Women, The Mirror of the Graces, and the few boring novels her mother deemed proper for young ladies. Her only diversion was to escape into the company of her bosom-friend, Patience Allen. Or her horse, Liberty.

But November, December, and January passed without the hoped-for change, and nineteen-year-old Julia grew increasingly restless. The mourning period for her father had passed as well, though the pall still lingered. At least now she could quit trying to gain the man’s approval.

On a grey February day, Julia and Patience rode together through the extensive Buckleigh Manor grounds. They followed a trail through a wood just beginning to awaken after winter—ivy and moss beginning to green, but the gnarly tree branches overhead still bare. A few brave birds warbled rusty melodies, perhaps hoping, as Julia did, that spring would arrive early.

Ahead of them, the wood opened into a meadow, and beyond loomed the west hedge. A wickedly delicious thrill threaded up Julia’s spine, and a grin lifted one corner of her mouth. She leaned low over Liberty’s neck and, with posture and voice, urged the mare to gallop—the riding crop she held mere affectation, like a man’s walking stick. She would never strike her horse.

She vaguely heard Patience shout that the hedge was too high. But as Julia’s horse was faster than hers, and Julia twice the rider, her friend’s words were the faintest buzzing in her ears. She rode confidently, as comfortable in sidesaddle as a man riding astride. Exhilarated by the wind, the speed, the sense of freedom, she gave Liberty her head. The beautiful horse galloped for all she was worth, straight for the hedge that bordered her mother’s estate—Julia’s confinement. Beyond it lay the whole of Devonshire, and England, and the world.

One last time, Patience shouted, It’s too high!

For a flash of a second Julia regretted risking the legs, the life, of her beloved Liberty, but it was too late.

Liberty jumped, and for a blissful moment Julia felt the weight of the world fall away. She was flying. Escaping.

The horse thudded to the spongy turf on the other side and Julia braced herself, keeping her seat with effort. The horse bobbled slightly, and Julia hoped Liberty hadn’t lodged something in her hoof upon impact.

With a Whoa, Julia reined her horse to a walk, then nudged her to turn back with the slightest pressure of ribbon and knee. A few yards away stood a stile—built to allow pedestrians but not livestock to pass the hedge. She would use it to dismount and check Liberty’s hooves, though she would not be able to remount without help. No matter. She could walk her horse back.

She unhooked her knee from the sidesaddle pommel, reached down to grab the top of the stile, and slid to its top step. Tucking the riding crop beneath her arm, she gently picked up one foreleg, then the next, inspecting the hooves.

Patience came riding toward her a few minutes later. She’d had to ride out the west gate a quarter of a mile away to reach her.

She looked at Liberty with concern. Is she all right?

I think so, yes.

And you?

Julia grinned. Never better.

Patience didn’t return the grin, but at least she didn’t scold—not like Julia’s mother was sure to do if she heard of the jump.

Releasing Liberty’s leg and untying the rein, Julia began walking her horse home. Patience rode slowly alongside.

Nearing the west gate, voices drew her attention and Julia paused to listen.

Patience halted her horse. What—?

Julia held up a hand to silence her. The voices were coming from the other side of the old gate lodge, long abandoned. The voices did not sound familiar. Or pleasant.

Looping Liberty’s rein around the branch of a nearby tree, she whispered to her friend, Wait here.

Julia, don’t, Patience hissed. It could be dangerous.

Ignoring the warning, Julia tiptoed across the damp ground, holding forth her riding crop like a weapon. She crept along the wall of the stone building and peered around the corner.

It took her eyes a moment to register the scene before her. A beefy man held back a thin young man in workman’s attire and flat hat. Meanwhile another man, wiry with lank blond hair, harassed a young woman, taking her hand and spinning her around.

Come on, love, he urged in an oily smooth voice. Let’s see you hop. Dancin’ in the spirit, I believe your lot call it—that right?

Indignation heated quickly to anger as Julia recognized two of the parties involved. Those infernal Wilcox brothers.

She marched forward, riding crop at the ready. Unhand her, Mr. Wilcox.

Felton Wilcox turned, beady green eyes narrowing. Well, well. If it ain’t Miss High and Mighty, stickin’ her nose where it don’t belong.

I said, let her go.

Oh, come, miss, Joe, the younger Wilcox urged. It’s only two of them ranters. Just want to hear ’er sing and see ’er prance, as they are wont to do.

Leave her alone! the captive young man shouted, struggling against Joe’s grip.

Joe Wilcox kneed him in the back.

Benjamin! the young woman shrieked.

Felton Wilcox silenced her with a viselike clamp to her cheeks. He squeezed so hard the young woman’s lips puckered like a gasping fish.

Rant for me now, my pretty dissenter. Let’s hear it.

I sing to praise God, she managed, not amuse bigots.

Why you . . . Felton frowned thunderously and reeled back his hand as though to strike her.

Julia slammed her riding crop across his wrist.

Felton jerked back, stunned by the whip’s bite and her audacity.

He turned on her, reeled back his hand again, but hesitated.

Julia stood her ground, unflinching, glaring at him, daring him. Perhaps you think the constable won’t bother if he hears you’ve harassed these people. But I promise you, you will find yourself swinging by the neck if you dare lay a hand on me.

He shook the stringy hair from his eyes and snarled, Witch!

In a flash of anger, Julia again lifted the riding crop and sent it slicing through the air. But Felton snatched it from her hand.

Snakelike eyes glinting, he lifted the crop menacingly. "Who says I’d lay a hand on you . . . ?"

From a distance came the sound of galloping horse hooves. Julia kept her eyes pinned on Felton Wilcox, but he glanced toward the west gate and frowned. He threw down the crop and turned to his brother. Come on. This was supposed to be a private party, but our uninvited guests have spoilt it.

With a nasty shove, Joe pushed the young man to the ground and ran with surprising speed for one so bulky, following his brother into the wood.

The slim young man scrambled to his feet and made as though to pursue them, but the girl grabbed his arm. Benjamin, don’t. Let them go. I’m all right.

He pulled his gaze from the retreating figures to scan the girl’s face. Are you sure?

Yes. Perfectly. She turned to Julia. I know you meant well, miss. But you ought not have struck him. We are to turn the other cheek.

Julia felt her brows rise. You may turn the other cheek all you like. Felton Wilcox will only strike the harder next time.

The girl gave her a pointed look. As you did?

Julia was incredulous. I was trying to help you.

The young man laid a hand on the girl’s arm and looked at Julia. I am grateful, miss. Truly. Only ashamed I could not help Tess myself.

Don’t feel too bad, Julia consoled. The Wilcoxes are local wrestling champions. You are not the first man to be laid low by them, and you won’t be the last.

He picked up his fallen hat and bowed. I’m Ben Thorne, and this is my sister, Tess. Again, we thank you, Miss Midwinter.

They knew her name, Julia noticed, though she hadn’t known theirs. She had seen these two before in passing, she believed, but had never met them.

The riders finally reached them, reining in with a storm of thundering hooves and flying dirt.

Are you all right? James Allen asked as he gracefully dismounted, handsome face tense.

Yes. Quite.

Beside him, his brother, Walter, swung his leg across the saddle to dismount. He caught his boot in the stirrup, hopped to keep his balance, and finally loosed his boot with a desperate jerk, which sent his hat flying to the ground.

Miss Thorne stepped forward, bent to retrieve it, and held it out to him. Are you all right? she asked gently.

Walter’s face reddened. Yes, miss. Thank you, miss.

James’s gaze remained on Julia. Patience found us out riding and told us you were in trouble.

Had she? Julia hadn’t even heard her ride away. The Wilcox brothers, she explained. They were bothering these two. But they’ve gone now.

Ben Thorne nodded. Thankfully, Miss Midwinter and her riding crop convinced them to leave.

James Allen’s fair brows rose. Riding crop? Julia, that was not wise. Who knows what sort of revenge those two might resort to.

Well, thankfully you rode up when you did.

Walter, she noticed, was still staring at the young woman called Tess. The girl was lovely, with a wild, wood-sprite look with long reddish-brown hair tumbling about her shoulders, and big brown eyes.

Poor Walter. The tall young man was ever awkward around females. But a pretty female his own age? Heaven help him. With his unremarkable light brown hair, sad eyes, and unfortunate ears, Walter possessed a sweet face, but not one a woman was likely to think handsome.

Before Julia could make introductions, Patience came galloping up. Her hair, even fairer than James’s golden locks, danced around her flushed cheeks. Poor Patience. The proper young lady was usually so sedate. Julia had never seen her ride so fast. Even so, she had apparently been unable to keep up with her brothers.

Winded, she called, Is everything all right?

Yes, my dear, Julia said. Thanks to you. Thank you for calling in the cavalry.

On Sunday, Julia Midwinter sat in her usual pew in St. Michael’s, her mother on one side of her, her friend Patience on the other. The rector, Mr. Bullmore, stood above them in the raised pulpit, droning on about something or other. Julia wasn’t really listening. The rector liked using lofty words, and many of them, apparently enamored with the sound of his own voice. Worse yet, the man reminded Julia of her father. Whenever he looked at her, his eyes were cold and disapproving. Like her father’s had always been.

Julia noticed the rector’s son was visiting again from Oxford. Cedric Bullmore planned to follow his father into the church. She wondered where he might secure a living—somewhere interesting, far away? She decided she would have to make more of an effort to flirt with the young man. In fact, she would begin that very afternoon.

Eligible son or no, Julia preferred when Mr. Bullmore left the sermon making to dear old Mr. Evans, the curate. On special holidays, Mr. Evans still led worship at the church on the Buckleigh estate for any who wished to attend—usually just her, Lady Amelia, the Allens, and a small clutch of servants and tenants. Everyone else, it seemed, preferred the newer village church.

Attention straying, Julia glanced over her shoulder across the aisle. There she noticed a man she had never seen before, sitting in Mr. Ramsay’s pew a few rows back. The young man had dark hair and a handsome profile, a good nose, firm chin, and strong cheekbones. But his most striking feature was his unfamiliarity—he was not from Beaworthy.

She leaned nearer Patience and whispered, Who is he?

Patience, who’d actually been listening to the sermon, roused herself from concentration long enough to follow Julia’s gaze. I don’t know, she whispered back.

Without removing her dutiful gaze from the Reverend Mr. Bullmore, Lady Amelia laid her gloved hand gently on Julia’s knee, signaling her to sit quietly.

A few minutes later, as the congregation rose to sing a hymn, Julia noticed a woman of perhaps forty-five, in somber black, standing beside the unfamiliar man. His mother, Julia assumed. And on the woman’s other side, a slender girl of seventeen or so. His sister, she guessed.

She hoped.

After the service finally concluded, Julia followed her mother down the aisle to thank the rector. Mr. Bullmore’s cold eyes slid past Julia to rest on Lady Amelia.

He smiled at her and said, Your ladyship, might I introduce a few newcomers to the parish? He gestured toward the trio standing nearby.

Her mother politely inclined her head and turned to face the woman in black.

Lady Amelia Midwinter, may I present Mrs. Valcourt, Mr. Ramsay’s sister.

The woman smiled wanly and dipped her head. Julia saw no resemblance to Mr. Ramsay, the prim, rotund solicitor who stood a few feet away.

How do you do, Lady Amelia said in a tone that did not invite reply.

The rector continued, And this is her daughter, Miss Aurora Valcourt—the pretty girl dipped a graceful curtsy—and her son, Mr. Alec Valcourt.

The well-dressed man bowed with impressive address. A pleasure to meet you, your ladyship.

Julia blurted, Are you visiting Mr. Ramsay, or have you come to stay?

Her mother stiffened at the forward question, yet turned to acknowledge her. And this is my daughter, Miss Midwinter.

Again Mr. Valcourt bowed and the ladies curtsied.

Julia smiled at the Valcourt family. A pleasure to meet you all. Welcome.

Mr. Valcourt’s mother was handsome, Julia decided. Though the sad downturn of her cheeks, and even her nose, kept her from being pretty. And black did not flatter her complexion. His sister, however, was lovely, with brown hair and bright blue eyes set in a sweet, fair face. Mr. Valcourt was perhaps an inch or two shy of six feet and athletically built—broad shoulders narrowing to a trim waist. His dark hair was wavy, where his sister’s was straight. From the front, his face was even more attractive than it had been in profile. Full lips, well-formed slightly belled nose, and blue-grey eyes. He was not only more handsome on closer inspection but older as well. Perhaps as old as five and twenty.

Julia gave him her most effective smile.

But instead of smiling in return, or blushing, or any of the responses she was accustomed to, he merely blinked and looked away.

Um . . . and as to your question, Mrs. Valcourt replied, sending a quick glance toward her brother, Mr. Ramsay has kindly invited us to stay for as long as we like. Just how long, we have yet to decide.

Ah, I see. Julia nodded, though she didn’t see. Not really. It was, after all, a vague answer, but she knew better than to press the matter. She guessed she was already in for a lecture on prying as soon as she and her mother were out of earshot.

Mrs. Valcourt went on to thank Mr. Bullmore for the sermon and his warm welcome.

While the woman spoke to the rector, Julia stepped nearer her mother and said quietly, Patience has invited me to go riding this afternoon, and then perhaps to do some needlework for the ladies’ aid society. You don’t mind, do you?

On Sunday?

Yes, she is most insistent. Julia turned to Patience, who was talking to a little red-haired girl nearby. Are you not, Patience?

Patience turned and blinked her pale blue eyes. Pardon me?

I was just telling Mamma that you have asked me over for the afternoon. You have your heart set upon it, don’t you?

Her friend’s lips parted. I . . . I do, yes, she faltered, then added more convincingly, Nothing would please me more.

You see? Julia beamed at her mother. Girls our age enjoy talking and sharing secrets. Did you not do so when you were a girl? It was something Julia could not imagine of the woman of three and forty years, but she was determined to win her way.

Her mother’s eyes clouded. I had few friends of such an intimate nature.

But then, you had a sister, whereas Patience and I do not.

Yes, I did, Lady Amelia said, her voice strangely clipped. Very well, you may go. But have the groom escort you.

Mamma, that is hardly necessary. It’s less than half a mile from our stables to Medlands. It would take Tommy longer to saddle his horse than to ride there and back.

I insist.

Oh, all right. But don’t make him wait for me. One of the Allens can escort me home.

Very well.

Triumph surged within her breast. As she turned away, Julia allowed herself a secret smirk of satisfaction—only to find Mr. Valcourt watching her.

She paused, and for a moment their eyes met. He held her gaze with a knowing look that told her he had overheard their conversation and was not fooled. She opened her mouth to say something, but he turned away without a word and escorted his mother and sister outside.

By 1706, even dour Philadelphia had a dancing and fencing school, despite protests by the Society of Friends.

—Lynn Matluck Brooks, York County Heritage Trust

Chapter 2

On his first full day in Devonshire, Alec Valcourt left the village church still seeing Miss Midwinter’s lovely face in his mind. She was beautiful, yes. And she knew it. She reminded him of too many spoiled young ladies he had met who enjoyed flirting—practicing both their seduction and dance skills with him, but only in hopes of snaring a more suitable gentleman in future.

Alec had overheard enough of Miss Midwinter’s conversation with her mother to know she was up to something. Her coy manipulation had brought to mind Miss Underhill, and Alec had turned away, determined to put both young women from his mind.

He had more important things to consider.

Already missing London, Alec walked through diminutive Beaworthy with his mother and sister, and an uncle he barely knew. As they passed the inn, he glanced at the upper windows, wondering if the inn had an assembly room. He would have to stop in sometime and meet the proprietor.

Uncle Ramsay lived outside the village in a two-story whitewashed cottage capped by a tile roof—with a small stable, paddock, and other outbuildings behind. As a young partner he had lived over the law practice on the High Street, he’d explained, but had bought the cottage when he bought the practice. Now his two clerks shared the rooms above his office, while he lived alone, with a cook-housekeeper and manservant to keep the place going.

Shortly after reaching the cottage, Alec joined his family in the dining parlor for a stiff early dinner at the bachelor’s meager table. It was not that his uncle was poor—he was after all the only solicitor in town and employed two clerks—but apparently he was exceedingly frugal and his cook-housekeeper had learned to stretch a sixpence into a pound.

Alec was careful not to eat too much of the plain roasted chicken and boiled potatoes so there would be enough to go around. Covert glances at his mother and sister revealed they did the same, slicing a small potato into tiny slices and eating them slowly and delicately, so that their plates did not empty ahead of Mr. Ramsay’s. If their uncle ate this way regularly, he should have been a thin, spindly man, but he was not. Rather, he possessed a well-rounded waistcoat that belied his parsimonious table.

The conversation was meager as well. His mother had explained the previous night why they had come, as well as her husband’s fate. At the time, Cornelius Ramsay had nodded gravely but said little.

Now, abruptly, he began, Perhaps we needn’t share the particulars of how it happened, hmm? It is enough for people here to know your husband is gone and that is why you’ve come.

Around the table Alec, his mother, and Aurora nodded in somber agreement.

After the meal, Alec retrieved his violin case. Knowing his music would fill the small house, and unsure whether his uncle would welcome it, he took his instrument outside. The February day was chilly, but he found a sunny bench—the breeze blocked by the garden wall—and felt quite comfortable. Sitting down, he removed his violin, positioned his bow, and began to fiddle. As he played, he reviewed his plans in his mind.

He had a small stack of pamphlets left over from London, describing the fencing and dancing classes he’d taught in private homes or the academy. If he cut off the bottom portion, which listed the Valcourt Academy’s address and weekly dance times, he could still use them. Armed with the pamphlets, he would introduce himself to local schools, as well as middle-class families and gentry. He thought he would teach private lessons in homes first. Then, when he had sufficient students and income, he would find and let a suitable place in Beaworthy to open a new academy.

He thought again of the pretty Miss Midwinter he had met that morning at church. He supposed a young lady like her already counted dancing among her many accomplishments, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask. . . .

Aurora came out, wool shawl around her shoulders, and sat on the bench beside him. She stared peacefully over the dormant garden and silent road beyond, listening as he played.

After a few minutes, she asked quietly, That’s new, isn’t it?

He shook his head. "Not exactly. It’s a variation of Grandfather’s ‘L’Aimable Vainqueur.’"

Ah. She stood and began walking through the dance steps in a demure, understated fashion while Alec played.

A horse and cart rumbled by, and the man at the reins turned to stare at them. Self-conscious, Aurora stopped and waited until he had passed before resuming the steps. As Alec added spirit to the tune, Aurora raised her arms and twirled a pirouette, nearly losing her shawl as she did so.

Stop! What are you doing?

Aurora whirled again, this time to face a flushed Uncle Ramsay. Did he reprimand her because she had danced on Sunday? Alec had not taught lessons on the Sabbath, but their family had often spent a pleasant hour or two with music and dancing on Sunday afternoons.

Alec lowered his fiddle and stood. I’m sorry, Uncle. Was the music too loud? We came outside, hoping not to disturb you.

You do disturb me. Glancing toward the road, he gestured them forward. Come inside, the both of you.

Alec and Aurora exchanged uncertain glances and followed him through the door and into the sitting room, feeling like naughty children.

Inside, Mrs. Valcourt looked up from the book of sermons she was reading. Her gaze shifted from her children to her brother, worry lines creasing her brow.

Uncle Ramsay turned to face them. Dancing is frowned upon here.

On the Sabbath, you mean? Alec asked. Aurora was only walking through the steps of a variation I’ve composed. My fault, I’m afraid, not hers.

"No, not only on Sabbath, Uncle Ramsay said. Dancing is not allowed here in general."

Alec stared at the man, certain he must have misheard. I don’t understand.

Aurora gave a tentative smile. You must be teasing, Uncle. For you know Alec is a dancing master.

Uncle Ramsay’s mouth fell ajar, apparently thunderstruck. What?

Alec felt a quiver of dread snake up his spine but steeled himself and met his uncle’s gaze directly. I am a dancing and fencing master, sir. Like my father and grandfather before me.

Uncle Ramsay’s face darkened in displeasure. He turned to his sister. Really, Joanna. You should have told me your son was following the family line before you came.

I knew you would not approve, she replied, setting aside her book and averting her eyes.

Alec looked from his mother to his uncle, mind reeling. Surely my profession does not come as a surprise to you.

It does. And not a happy one. I knew your grandfather was a dancing master, and French in the bargain. But your father vowed to forsake the profession if I would permit him to marry my sister.

He did give it up, Mrs. Valcourt said, then added, for a time.

Cornelius Ramsay shook his head, eyes troubled. He promised. Upon his honor.

Mrs. Valcourt’s lips tightened. Men do not always keep their promises, I find.

Several moments of strained silence followed. The mantel clock ticked. Aurora sent Alec a nervous look. It was the nearest thing to an accusation they had yet heard from their mother.

Uncle Ramsay picked up the fire iron and jabbed at the embers in the hearth. I suppose your husband’s return to the profession, and your son’s following him, explains your vague and infrequent letters over the years?

He sent his sister a challenging look, but she did not meet his gaze.

Well, well, he said briskly. "If you had divulged your son’s profession, I could have warned you there is no dancing here in Beaworthy. And precious little call for a dancing master. In fact, I cannot think of any place less in need of one." He shoved the fire iron back into its stand with a clang.

But . . . why? Alec sputtered.

A decision of the leading family of the parish. Lady Amelia Midwinter, daughter of the last earl.

Alec’s stomach churned. Flabbergasted, he asked again, But why? Is she a Quaker or some such?

His uncle shook his head. It’s the way things were when I came here years ago as partner to old Mr. Ley—God rest his soul.

I don’t understand. Are you saying there’s an actual law or ordinance that says one cannot dance here?

Uncle Ramsay’s lower lip protruded in thought. Not an actual law that I know of, though certainly an unwritten one. He shrugged. I own I’ve never looked into it. Didn’t affect me—I never went in for that sort of frivolity.

But—

His uncle laid a hand on his arm. "The reason is not the main point here, my boy. The fact is, dancing is not done here in Beaworthy, hasn’t been for twenty years, and is unlikely to start now you’re here."

Alec looked at his mother, stunned by this unexpected turn of events. Mamma, why did you not say anything? If I had known—

Her eyes sparked. If you had known . . . What? We still would have come. We had no other choice. And thanks to my generous brother, we have a roof over our heads. Let us be thankful.

But we cannot presume to live on Uncle Ramsay’s goodwill for long, Mamma, Alec insisted. I must earn my own way—support you and Aurora.

His uncle nodded. Well said, my boy. Well said. A young man of nearly five and twenty must have some skills and abilities to recommend him.

Alec lifted his chin. I am a skilled and able dancing and fencing master, sir. He hesitated, then added, Though I did apprentice as a clerk for a time, before Father reopened his academy.

Ah! A clerk. Now, that’s something useful.

I’ve never regretted the experience, Alec allowed. Even after I began teaching alongside Father, I was able to help with the business side of the academy—keeping the books, paying taxes, that sort of thing.

His mother asked hopefully, Might Alec help you in your law practice, brother?

His uncle considered this, then shook his head. Unfortunately no. I have two clerks at present and haven’t need of another. Nor have I heard of any such position available nearby. But I shall ask around.

Alec wanted to please his uncle, but he did not want to be a clerk. He said, Perhaps there is more interest in dancing than you think. And I teach fencing as well. I might find pupils for that skill at least.

Enough to support yourself? I think that highly unlikely.

Then I shall go farther afield to seek pupils, Alec said. I may have more luck in neighboring villages.

But folks around here are primarily farmers and laborers. Few well-to-do families interested in dancing.

How do you know?

Call it an educated guess. My professional opinion.

It cannot hurt to ask.

Actually, it can. It can hurt your reputation and your reception. It won’t do me any favors either.

But—

Uncle Ramsay held up his palm. Look. Alec. I am a reasonable man and will not forbid you. However, I would advise you to tread carefully and be discreet. And do not tempt fate by going to Buckleigh Manor or its neighbor, Medlands. Give yourself, say, a week, and if you haven’t rummaged up sufficient pupils by then, we shall discuss alternate plans for your future. All right?

That sounds reasonable, Alec’s mother agreed. Quite generous, brother. Thank you.

A week? Inwardly, Alec rebelled. He felt his life beginning to spin away, out from under his control, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Dismissed, Alec exchanged his violin for a sword and strode back outside. Instead of turning right into the village, he turned left into the countryside. In his uncle’s compact cottage, there was precious little room for privacy. He needed a place to exert himself and burn off his vexation with no one to criticize, or scoff. A place where he could toss aside his coat and work himself into an ungentlemanly sweat.

His small sword held inconspicuously to his side, he strode down the unpaved road, eyeing with interest the wooded area ahead.

He passed a walled churchyard, the listing graves and grey limestone church far older than the one he’d attended in the village. Not sure if the place was in use, he walked on. The road entered a copse of trees both deciduous and evergreen. Though only February, birds sang hopefully. Evidently, spring returned earlier here in the southwest. Perhaps all was not as bleak as it appeared.

The vague rumble and wave of two voices reached him. Through the trees, he glimpsed movement. He paused, not wishing his footsteps to announce his presence, or to meet anyone in his current mood. Something about the uncertain shapes beyond the pine boughs drew

Reviews for The Dancing Master

[wrightja2000 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Good but a little forgettable. Literally spent ten minutes trying to remember what book I had just finished reading an hour earlier.

[wanda_barefoot-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I will admit that, although I have read a lot of Regency romances throughout the years, I have never found one that truly satisfied my hunger for reading in that particular genre. The genre I love reading most is Historical western romances but, I have to say, Julie Klassen has changed my whole outlook on Regency romance. The Dancing Master lacks none of the facets that make a story great. I loved the characters so much that the town of Beaworthy is a place I would love to visit over and over. I'm not sure if there will be any follow up books after this one but I truly hope so. There are a few characters that need their own story, I think.I often like to talk about the characters I loved most in a book as the characters are half of the story itself. My favorite, most endearing character was Julia Midwinter and I can find no better way to describe her than by quoting the leading man himself, Alec Valcourt.-- "Oh..." Alec puffed out his cheeks in thought. "Julia--that is, Miss Midwinter--is all liveliness and changeability. Rapturous one moment and wistful the next. Given to frequent smiles and laughter..." -- Julia is spontaneous, flirtatious, mischievous and, yes, even cunning and conniving. But she was also vulnerable and wore her heart on her sleeve. I loved her spirit and I loved the way Miss Klassen brought her to life within the pages of this book. Alec was much more reserved but he was ambitious and, even though he wanted to give up, he never did. He was a gentleman and a provider for his family who had a deep rooted love for the art of dancing. He was respectability at its best. I have never really given dancing much thought. It has always been something people do for enjoyment in my opinion but I now have a new found respect for the art and this book has even made me want to do a little research on the dances from that era. All that aside, I completely loved this book. The plot. The setting. The characters. I didn't come away feeling as if something were missing as I have with other Regency romances. While reading The Dancing Master I often thought I had the plot figured out just to be blindsided by a change of direction. I love that. Knowing how a book will end halfway through just kills the enjoyment of reading a book in the first place as far as I'm concerned.I do want to talk about the spiritual aspects of this book also. It was about forgiveness and discovery. There were a lot of reasons forgiveness was needed in this story and Miss Julie brought this to fruition beautifully along with the discovery that no matter what our earthly fathers are like, we have a Heavenly Father that loves us beyond measure. And I loved the fact that, through this book, Miss Julie tips her hat to Jane Austen in a sublte but evident way.This is my first book by Julie Klassen and I am so glad I read it. I have found a brand new author to love and I intend to devour her books from this point on. I can't stress enough how enjoyable this book was and I MOST HIGHLY recommend it.Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for my honest review. The opinions expressed are mine alone. If I recommend a book it's because I truly enjoyed it and would recommend it to even the closest of family and friends. I received no monetary compensation for this review as it is simply a way of giving back for the enjoyment it brought me.

[brokenteepee · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Dancing Master opens with a somber scene as Julia Midwinter and her mother remember the death of her brother on May Day. It was a traumatic event for Lady Midwinter and one she will not fully explain to Julia nor why dancing is forbidden in town or why Julia can't leave to experience well, anything. Julia feels trapped as the future lady of the house and she doesn't want to be bound to the responsibilities. She wants to LIVE.Alec Valcourt has just moved to town and hopes to escape the scandal that drove him and his mother and sister from London to the safety of his Uncle's home. He is a Dancing Master but now finds himself in a town that does not dance. However will he support the family?Julia notices Alec from the start and she is a flirt of the first order. Her mother does NOT want her to get any ideas so she gives Alec a job which solves any number of problems; it keeps Alec from pursuing dancing, it keeps him at a lessor societal level and it keeps him under her nose so she can make sure he and Julia stay apart. So of course he and Julia do not stay apart....So, how did I feel about this book? Eh. It had its moments. I was slightly annoyed by both main characters but also intrigued - they were both spoiled brats but they were also products of their time. The hidden stories in both families were compelling enough to make the book interesting and the ancillary characters added much needed balance. I've read several of Ms. Klassen's books and will read her again but The Dancing Master will not prove to be a favorite. The inclusion of the dancing instructions from the period and the descriptions of the new - at least to me - Byranite religion added some fascinating history to the tale.

[tea58 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

In Beaworthy, England there are many secrets. These secrets have left people in the community bitter, sad and lost in the past. The characters live there lives like students in a dancing master's class. There is one difference. The dancing students have become frozen mannequins. They're is no way to relax under such pressure. The students are stiff and withdrawn, afraid to speak or touch one another. The villagers so unhappy I think of them as volcanoes growing and growing wanting to rain a wide, hot trail of ash down to the town. Perhaps, this is why Joe and Felix Wilcox are so cruel. These brothers are definitely frightening bullies. For no reason they pick a fight with Alec Valcourt more than once. One time kicking him in the ribs so hard he can not stand up without help. I think brutality became their only outlet in a village where no one talks about what is really on their minds.Lady Amelia Midwinter, Julia Midwinter's mother, allows no one in Beaworthy to dance. Not allowing dance is her way, whether she knows it or not, of protecting her mind from remembering a painful past which involved her sister, Lady Anne, her brother, Graham, her father, a friend named Desmond, and another friend named Tremelling. All of these people are really in a symbolic dance. It's a dance of secrets, guilt and lies. This is a dangerous dance because this waltz will lead to a duel and a death.No wonder the author chose the name Midwinter. The middle of winter is so naked of color, icy cold and dreary grey. The days are rare when there is sunshine. These are the days of the lives for the villagers day in and day out. It is also midwinter because Lady Anne long dead is not fully gone. She speaks in a ghostly way from her grave. She wants to see old wrongs made right. Lady Anne is the death angel hovering over the town. She will not rest until all is opened up and repaired. Julia Midwinter, the most outgoing person in the village is the main person who will feel all the pain of the concealed truths. For twenty years Lady Amelia has carried a heavy load of memories and regrets which involve the life of Lady Anne. One day while in the attic with her friend, Patience, Julia will find some truths in a hidden drawer of a trunk. There are a few letters passed around throughout the novel that will help explain motivations, unstain reputations and give Julia the chance to become unbound from the chains of misinformation. Although none of what has happened is her fault, she is the one who suffers the most hunger and emotional illness because no one in this dance is in his rightful place. Therefore, Julia is stalled from experiencing loving relationships. She will become very happy to learn about love and grace, the very name of the fountain in the square.I could not help but think about the way so many lives had been torn asunder by secrets. Even the Valcourts have a heavy secret they carry from London to Beaworthy. There secret is nothing to do with Beaworthy. Their secret happens in London and involves their father and husband. Alec's career is torn apart because of his father. Aurora and her mother are left worried and unhappy. Julie Klassen seems to give the message that it does not matter where you come from, big town, little village, secrets can grow as quickly as the cells of the human body. Secrets also destroy whatever or whomever is around them. Neither does class or station of life protect people from the harm of secrets.I am glad Julia is left a mermaid necklace by a relative. I thought about this mermaid. I am still thinking about the mermaid. I can only think that with God's help we can survive in deep waters, like a mermaid, if we remember He is our Father-God. We are His children. When Julia learns this truth, she is so happy and relieved of deep discomfort. Julia has never known a real father in her life. If only she had known about Our Father. However, it is never too late to learn about a loyal and perfect Loving Father. When Julia does learn, along with Lady Amelia, about so great a love, both women become like mermaids who can swim effortlessly and gracefully through the waters of other trials and tribulations that might come their way.I love the way Julie Klassen ends the dancing master. It is May Day. It is a happy and a historical day in Beaworthy. The villagers decide to have a May Day Dance. The feeling of wanting to dance overrides their insecurities.Lady Amelia turns the town on its tippy toes when she arrives at the May Day dance and tells all to continue dancing. She has released unforgiveness from her heart. She too is as free as the lady of the fountain in the square. All her chains have fallen away. It's only right the novel should end in this way. "This year...a new dance Alec has composed. It is called Upon a Spring Day--a dance of new life...Turn. Bow. Reach high. Clap. Honor your neighbor. Join hands with your partner and walk forward, hand in hand." I think the best part for the villagers must have been the "walking forward." By the way this is Christian fiction. I also would like to mention the quote at the beginning of each chapter. I looked forward to reading those quotes and thinking about their meaning in the dance of life.julieklassen

[holly_combs_4 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I love Regency era books, Jane Austen being a major weakness of mine. So when the opportunity arose to review Julie Klassen’s The Dancing Master, I jumped on it.Lately from London, dancing master Alec Valcourt hopes to help his family begin a new life in the small town of Beaworthy by opening a new dancing and fencing academy. Then Alec receives surprising, and devastating, news: there is no dancing in Beaworthy. As he sets out to change the opinions of the townspeople, Alec’s unlikely ally is the daughter of the town’s matriarch, the very woman who banned dancing some twenty years prior. Meanwhile, as young Julia struggles against her mother’s firm control, she sets out in search of who she really is and just what her future might hold.The Dancing Master is rather long (419 pages), which could either be taken as a positive (lots of story for a $15 book!) or a negative (it takes a long time to get through). I found the plot to be rather drawn out and lagging at times. The characters were likeable but somewhat one-dimensional. The hero, Alec, is rather too good to be true and experiences little growth because he has few flaws. The heroine, however, is full of flaws and young Julie grows immensely throughout the course of the novel. The romantic relationship between them, however, is hard to swallow. Julie is simply too immature and impetuous to warrant a second glance from a mature, wise and hardworking young man. The barrier of their respective classes, while noted in the beginning, in the end seems to vanish without much explanation.Perhaps most disappointingly, faith, instead of being woven into the fabric of the story and characters, seems to be tacked on in certain scenes as though only important at specific moments. And the exploration of the Bryanite culture is cut short and lacking any real depth. I was sorry to see this as I was interested in learning more about this subculture of Christianity that I knew/know little about.My favorite part of Klassen’s novel were the rather minor quotes at the start of each chapter often detailing some bit about dancing or culture of the Regency era. Some were by fiction authors of the time, others came from non-fiction, still others were simple advertisements. They gave the book a dose of reality amid the story. And, as I knew little about dancing during the time (other than that it occurred), I enjoyed learning just what the position of a dancing master was, the relationship with fencing, proper dancing etiquette, etc.Overall, although lacking depth and being somewhat unrealistic, The Dancing Master is also a charming read.I received a complimentary copy of The Dancing Master from Bethany House Publishers, but I was not otherwise compensated for this review. All writing, thoughts, and opinions are solely mine.

[wrbinpa · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I eagerly await for all of Julie Klassen's new books - she never disappoints, but I must say this was not one of my favorites. There is an entourage of characters, making the plot lengthy, with stretches where not much is happening and unfortunately I lost interest in spots. That being said - there is much to like about this book. There is a richness in the writing with so much historical detail, which I absolutely soaked up. The author certainly has a writing flair for the Regency era, setting an ambience that is somewhat similar to Jane Austen. A bit of romance is included, that is decent and modest, and there are, just ever so slight, religious overtones. It is a story of family secrets, romance, uncertainties, scandal, forgiveness and grace. Nineteen year old Julia Midwinter was headstrong, manipulative, and very outspoken. She would one day be heiress to Buckleigh Manor. Julia's father never wanted a young girl in his domain and her mother seemed to find her charitable organizations more important than Julia. Julia is filled with restlessness and anger and has no interest in becoming the matriarch of Buckleigh Manor. Alex Vancourt was forbidden, but that only made him more interesting to Julia. Alec Vancourt is a dancing and fencing master and carrying secrets from the past. He was well spoken and educated from a young age by his grandfather. Alec was forewarned to have little to do, as possible, with Julia. He was told that Julia was not his social equal and Julia was destined for greater things. And the story unfolds ---The well developed characters are cleverly crafted with genuine personalities. Julia was hard to like, but I found her to be quite interesting with her feistiness and desire for adventure. There were a few hidden secrets and surprises revealed throughout, and secondary characters that certainly added interest. The storyline had a satisfying, but rather predictable and lukewarm conclusion. The book still had many redeeming qualities and I found it to be a light and enjoyable read. 4 stars.

[caslater83 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I think this was another good book by Ms. Klassen. It took me awhile longer to read it due to my work schedule, but it was worth it! I have no experience in dancing, so I admit that I'm rather curious to know if I would like it if I ever had the opportunity to take lessons.

Julia sounds like a typical teenager of her era--tired of her life as it is because it seems frightfully dull and boring. Her relationship with her overprotective mother sounds hit-and-miss, but you don't fully grasp the reasons behind it until you're further into the book.

Alec sounds like a man who knows what he wants to achieve, but he's in the wrong location to achieve. Not his fault, of course. Circumstances beyond his control forced him and his family to relocate. Meeting a flirt like Julia promises to keep things interesting in his world, but he has to be careful because she is high-class and he is not.

All in all, it's a good book.

[beautyinthebinding · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Julia Midwinter's youth and vitality often stand in opposition to her mother's rules. As village matriarch, Julia's mother has prohibited all forms of dancing. This seemingly harsh rule is shrouded in family secrets, including the deaths of Julia's aunt and uncle. By natural curiosity and rebellion, Julia is drawn to Alec Valcourt, the newly arrived dancing master from London. However, Alec's past also proves dark and messy and he's certainly not the type of man Julia's mother would approve of. Will Alec and Julia both discover the truths about their pasts so that they can embrace the future with hope? Read more in The Dancing Master by Julie Klassen.The Dancing Master by Julie Klassen is a stand-alone novel set in early nineteenth century England. The mystery of Julia's past hooked my attention and kept me wondering how all the people and events fit together. For me, this is what kept the story flowing as I didn't find the characters as captivating as I expected. By the author's intention, I suspect, Julia's character was hard to like in the beginning. However, even after Julia's internal motivations became more clear and she began to develop as a character, I still found it difficult to like her. Lastly, someone mentioned to me that it sounds like a take-off of Footloose. However, I've never seen the movie, so I can't really speak that. I don't discourage anyone from reading the book, but I do recommend borrowing from the library before purchasing.Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

[lyssa73 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

9/10

When I heard that Ms. Klassen would be releasing a new book soon, I could hardly wait. She didn't disappoint. I so often found myself finding things that I loved about this book that I didn't want to forget to mention due to gushing that I actually took notes, which was a first for me. So! Onto my list:

The language- so beautifully and well done! So many novels of this kind try to get the language right and it just comes off unnaturally. The expressions and conversations really set the tone of the book and rather than constantly reminding me that this was a book written in the present day, it was easy to get transported back in time to the fictional but lovely early 19th century Beaworthy.

I loved the nods to Jane Austen. The book wasn't stuffed with them, but the occasional nod and wink had me smiling, from the resemblance of Lady Amelia to Lady Catherine de Bourgh and several lines that I know were taken from Pride and Prejudice directly, it added to the books charm.

The characters, oh the characters! I loved that Julia was flawed. It made her relatable and loveable. Despite some of the things she did that annoyed me, I too hoped for depth and was so happy to slowly get to know her better.

I loved that Julia came to love Alec slowly, naturally, and really because of his integrity and how he treated her with respect. What a wonderful message. In this genre, I've seen authors paint their characters simply without ever testing them and sometimes overlooking minor choices that don't uphold honesty and faithfulness etc. But Alec was always steadfast.

And Lady Amelia Midwinter. Ah. While she reminded me so much of Lady Catherine for the first half of the book, she blossomed in her own right, as a woman with a past, with feelings, with mistakes and with growth.

I also found someone to love in just about every single one of the supporting characters and there were a lot. That hasn't really happened to me since Lawana Blackwell's Gresham series. They are each distinctly their own. The only ones that bothered me were the Wilcox brothers, and not just because they were supposed to be antagonistic, but maybe because it seemed like they were dropped into the story simply for the purpose of being minor villains and they always had me on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But eventually, Ms. Klassen chipped away at my distaste for them as well by flushing out their characters. Resolving some of the antagonistic ways was just the cherry on top.

The mystery that surrounded several new characters as they were introduced and woven into the story was very well done. They were interesting and it all seemed natural. Just as I started to think I had figured something out, the story would twist and change, keeping me invested.

The romance- it was slow and wonderful. I loved that it was not necessarily the focal point of the story. While I normally hate switching back and forth from the two main characters points of view (where is the mystery? the butterflies?) this time it made sense. Alec had a separate story of his own to tell, as did Julia. They were not immediately obsessed with each other and the romance between them flourished in a beautiful way. The Christian themes were well done and I loved the father-daughter messages there as well.

The plot was hardly ever predictable. The letter in the drawer left no easy answers; even knowing more than Julia, I was still confused.

A couple of other smaller things- the authentic period information at the beginning of chapters and occasionally sprinkled throughout helped keep the story flowing and was very interesting to a history-lover like me. I particularly loved the conversation between Patience and Julia starting on pg. 263. It was lively, intelligent, funny, but still honest. So often, women seem to give in to the need to say things that our friends want to hear instead of the truth that they need to hear. I thought Patience and Julia set a good example. Also, the cover art is just perfect- the expression on that girl's face- definitely Julia!


It takes a skilled writer to weave together so many detailed stories and infuse them with life. Ms. Klassen did so brilliantly. She made me fall in love with these people and so, this is a story that I will return to again and again.

[amandawrites_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is another wonderful novel, aptly written and researched by Ms. Klassen. Delightful characters. Tantalizing scenery. True to her own unique, classic style of writing, this book immediately deposits the reader into a delightful, bygone era, reminiscent of Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters.Filled to the brim with flawed yet lovable characters, this book was a pleasure to read. Mr. Valcourt, handsome, once successful dancing master with secrets to hide meets spirited and willful Julia Midwinter whose mother strikes fear into every townsperson who dares dance - because of tragedy and loss twenty years in the past that she won't forgive and forget.It never ceases to amaze me how Ms. Klassen can write such a great story with so many well-rounded, well-written characters without giving any of them the shaft. Each character has their own story, their own troubles, and their own victories, and yet, never do they detract from the overall plot but instead, add a depth and richness that is lacking in many other novels. This is difficult to achieve and complex, yet Ms. Klassen does so without missing a beat. This is fraught with timeless messages every person can learn from. A book of cause and effect. Consequences of actions and whom those actions could ultimately hurt. No matter what we do, we must remember that God loves and forgives, but that doesn't mean He will erase the natural consequences of our sin.This is one novel I'd love to see in movie or TV series form.

[mbarkman_2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Once again Julie enthralled me in this historical fiction...the Dancing Master. Right from the prologue, where we meet Julie Midwinter in the midst of a scene that brought a lot of questions to my mind, to the end she was able with her vivid imagery, realistic and reliable characters to transport me to the year 1815 and keep me captivated. Not only do her story entertain, which they do admirably, but I learn about the history of the country, its cultures among the classes and the geography of the region.Traditions. There are sure to be well grounded reasons for any customs that we follow, but do the reasons stand up to reality? Are there reasons why these might be broken? I love it when an author is able to write one story, and I then find it can be related to my own circumstances, even though my life is nothing like the story and my situations are far removed. Very seldom does any author of merit have a character that I can not relate to. If I find one, I probably will not buy another novel she has written. Julie Klassen does a wonderful job of bringing her subjects to life through mere words. "Book has been provided courtesy of Baker Publishing Group and Graf-Martin Communications, Inc. Available at your favorite bookseller from Bethany House, a division of Baker Publishing Group". 

[alekee_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I have very mixed feelings about this book. I enjoyed the setting, and could understand the pain that came to quite a few, in this story, on being betrayed. There is a lot of lying and deceit.Julia, one of the main characters, is a flirt, and very spoiled. She thinks mainly of her self, and doesn't seem to care about what happens to others. Another main male character, Alec, is the Dance Master Saber Instructor. I cringed when he was beaten up, I thought surely some of his fast on his feet training, would happen. I did like that he didn't tell what had happened to his father, in order to defend himself.I also felt rather sorry for Julia, her cold father, and rather distant Mother. Maybe that is the reason she acts so unlikeable. I did like John Desmond, and felt sorry for the burden that he carried, all because of what someone said, and caused so much heartache.You will be in for some big surprises and will be guessing almost to the end.I received this book through Litfuse Publicity Book Tours, and the Publisher Bethany House, and was not required to give a positive review.

[barbjan10 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It seems to me that there are various kinds of dancing in this story by Julie Klassen. Many of the characters in Beaworthy are “dancing around” issues that need to be revealed, but kept secret. The character displaying the dominant leader in this dance is Lady Amelia Midwinter who due to some mysterious reason has banned dancing from the village of Beaworthy. This woman is rich in money, power and property; however quite impoverished from kindness and consideration in her heart. It was no wonder that her daughter, Julie was a mini-Amelia in her own sense. The emotional historical circumstances regarding these women lend credibility to why they lack in faith, love and depth of character.This writing of Ms.Klassen did not have the usual eloquent luster normally glowing brightly in her previous novels I have read. She is a master writer of the Regency era and seemed to tire of her story in spots before she reached its final conclusion. When I saw the beautiful cover of The Dancing Master, I eagerly began this read with expectation of personally relating to dance, having been trained as a performer in this enchanting art while young – it still fascinates me. However, at my age, the interest hasn’t waned, but the attempt to dance one step is precarious!Handsome Alec Valcourt, was a true dance and fencing master of the third generation in his family. Family tragedy through scandalous activity caused the disappearance of his father and left the family dancing school in ruins. Alec moved his mother and sister to Beaworthy to live with his uncle and the hope of finding employment in the Devonshire area. We meet other characters in this story that provide personality and wit. The author has provided many entertaining details to keep the mystery and romance alive. However, by the conclusion of the book, I felt unsettled for the lack of completion in some areas. It was difficult to remember who some of the characters were because of long periods of not learning more about them. Of course, I might add that the weaknesses Julie Klassen wrote into her characters are realistic and very human. There are transformations in hearts, and I especially liked Julie’s subtle scenes showing God’s grace and love through salvation in Christ. Of course, some of the characters were church goers, but they didn’t behave in a Christian manner on a daily basis. I did enjoy and was amused with the animals Julie created. There are some redeeming qualities in Ms. Klassen’s The Dancing Master; however I enjoyed The Apothecary’s Daughter, The Girl in the Gatehouse and The Tutor's Daughter more. This review will not end my admiration or enthusiastic following of Julie Klassen as I will certainly be looking forward to her next novel. God is not finished with what she can create next.Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Litfuse Publicity Group. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

[bookscookslooks · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Dancing Master opens with a somber scene as Julia Midwinter and her mother remember the death of her brother on May Day. It was a traumatic event for Lady Midwinter and one she will not fully explain to Julia nor why dancing is forbidden in town or why Julia can't leave to experience well, anything. Julia feels trapped as the future lady of the house and she doesn't want to be bound to the responsibilities. She wants to LIVE.Alec Valcourt has just moved to town and hopes to escape the scandal that drove him and his mother and sister from London to the safety of his Uncle's home. He is a Dancing Master but now finds himself in a town that does not dance. However will he support the family?Julia notices Alec from the start and she is a flirt of the first order. Her mother does NOT want her to get any ideas so she gives Alec a job which solves any number of problems; it keeps Alec from pursuing dancing, it keeps him at a lessor societal level and it keeps him under her nose so she can make sure he and Julia stay apart. So of course he and Julia do not stay apart....So, how did I feel about this book? Eh. It had its moments. I was slightly annoyed by both main characters but also intrigued - they were both spoiled brats but they were also products of their time. The hidden stories in both families were compelling enough to make the book interesting and the ancillary characters added much needed balance. I've read several of Ms. Klassen's books and will read her again but The Dancing Master will not prove to be a favorite. The inclusion of the dancing instructions from the period and the descriptions of the new - at least to me - Byranite religion added some fascinating history to the tale.

[vintagebeckie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Dancing Master is the third novel I have read by Julie Klassen, and while not my all-time favorite (The Girl in The Gatehouse), it is still a good choice for fans of Regency fiction. Filled with entertaining characters, a quaint setting and echoes of Jane Austen and the Brontes, The Dancing Master is a good book to spend the cold winter nights with.A duel, betrayal of affections and the loss of loved ones has caused Lady Amelia Midwinter, the benefactor of many in the small town of Beaworthy, Devon, to ban dancing. Afraid to lose her patronage, local citizens and businesses have followed her lead for twenty years. Alec Valcourt comes to the quiet village to restore his family honor and to reestablish his profession of dancing master. Met with discouragement and sometimes open hostility, Alec pursues his dreams and Lady Amelia’s daughter, Julia.The Dancing Master deals with a variety of themes — secrets kept, betrayal, grudges and regrets. Many of the characters struggle with duty versus following their dreams. The two main characters are Alec Valcourt and Miss Julia Midwinter, but I was immediately drawn into Lady Amelia’s character. She is a puzzle. Seen as stern and aloof by everyone, including her daughter, Amelia has kept her warm, loving nature well hidden. I think she wants to do what is best for Julia and Beaworthy, but has let a broken heart and broken dreams color all she does. There are also some good minor characters that add flavor to the story — Miss Tinkle the baker, the dissenter/ranter Thorne family and even the despicable wrassling champions Felton and Joe. For Jane Austen fans, there are lots of hints of her books, from the dialogue to the character nuances. I was reminded of Emma, especially, while reading The Dancing Master.Klassen includes a strong thread of faith in the novel as well. While there is much to regret and some characters struggle with self-worth, God’s redemption and love is shared throughout. So if you want a Regency novel complete with the manners and customs of the day and a story that includes a strong faith message, then check out The Dancing Master.Recommended.(Thanks to LitFuse for my review copy. All opinions are mine alone.)

[christinebooks · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was a outstanding book! I definitely give it 5 stars!
In this story Alec Valcourt travels to Beaworthy with his mother and sister to his uncles house! For the first part the author makes you think that his father is deceased,but then you realise he is just out of the picture for right now! Alec tries to make his time in the worth while, so he plans to start up his profession again. As a dancing master! But meanwhile he figures out that that Mrs. Midwinter, who basicly owns the town prohibited dancing for quite some time! she also despises dancing masters! But her daughter Julia, its not the same. She talks Alec into giving her dancing lessons behind her mother's back. Soon a very nice family also want to take dancing classes from Alec. When he finds out there's a town near by having a ball he takes the family and Julia to it! Julia's mother soon learns that she went to a ball and Julia is in big trouble! The big twist and turns throughout this book, what is an extraordinary one!! Julia meet her real dad and finds out who her real mother is! I love this book so much I am reading it again! it has a passion of love and of God! <3