I also do include physically disabled characters from time to time, but primarily I focus on neurodivergence, because it’s so close to home. Unfortunately, I can’t really depict a profoundly autistic character in my historical romances, because no one knew about autism in the Regency, so no character can explain to any other character why the character with autism is how he or she is. Besides, characters who have my son’s level of autism would, if they were lucky and their parents had money, have been sent to live with a family who took care of them. (Some families would visit their relatives occasionally at their new location. Many would not.) Those who weren’t as lucky (or rich) would most likely have been sent to an insane asylum to live. That’s too unbearably sad for me to include in what are supposed to be joyful books. (For more about the treatment of the disabled in the Regency, check out this wonderful article about the Austen family’s treatment of two of their disabled.)
But I do have one published short story in the Mossy Creek series of collective novels with an autistic character based on my son. I also wrote a contemporary romance years ago about a woman on the run with her autistic son, but it was never published. I may rework it someday and publish it myself, but that will have to wait until I retire from writing historical romances!
Here are some of my differently abled characters, and the books where they appear:
Lady Helena Laverick, the heroine from A Notorious Love—permanently walks with a limp after having had polio as a child (called infantile paralysis during the Regency).
Major Lucas Winter, the hero of Never Seduce a Scoundrel, has claustrophobia.
Lady Regina Tremaine, the heroine from To Pleasure a Prince—has dyslexia, and until the end of the book, can’t read.
Edwin Barlow, the Earl of Blakeborough and hero from The Study of Seduction, is the closest I get to portraying autism in my historical romances. He’s very much like my husband, which is also why he’s a favorite character of mine. I read to my husband the scene where the hero and heroine talk about having a picnic, and he started laughing. I asked him who that sounded like, and he said, “Me!” So, I guess I did it right!
Princess Solange Barry, grandmother of the heroine in The Secret of Flirting, is in the advanced stages of old age dementia (as opposed to Alzheimer’s, which is different altogether).
Major Joshua Wolfe, the hero from The Bachelor—permanently requires a cane, thanks to injuries suffered in the Napoleonic wars. He also has PTSD and reacts strongly to loud noises.
Olivia Norley, the heroine from Who Wants to Marry a Duke—Olivia is the closest to being autistic of any of my heroines. She’s a chemist who isn’t really comfortable in social situations and doesn’t always know the right things to say. She’s very blunt. I had a friend with autism in mind when I created her.
Sheridan Wolfe, Duke of Armitage, the hero from Undercover Duke—has dyscalculia. I looked up dyslexia with numbers and stumbled upon dyscalculia, which fits my husband to a T. So I gave Sheridan dyscalculia, although I only dealt with the number switching in the book since I figured most readers would recognize dyslexia, even with numbers.
Cyril Morris, the sweet child character in Hazardous to a Duke’s Heart—his brain was slightly damaged in birth due to what we now call “perinatal asphyxia.”
Last but not least, Jeremy Lyman, the central character in my contemporary short story, Gone but not Forgotten. (Be aware, however, that it’s not a romance.) Jeremy is, like my son Nick, profoundly autistic. And the twins are based on my brother and sister-in-law’s twins. In fact, I got the idea for the story when Rene and I and Nick went to take care of the twin babies for a weekend. Nick behaved beautifully and was a big help. He loves those two kids (now grown) with a deep, abiding love, and they are always kind to him, so I just had to give the three a story.
