By Georgette Heyer

“Do you mean that I am redoubtable? Oh, you are quite mistaken!” “Am I? Then let us say intrepid!” She sighed. “I wish I were! The case is that I am a wretched coward.” “Your father gives you quite another character.” “I don’t fear fences.” “What, then?” “People – some people! To – to be slain by unkindness.” He looked at her with a slight frown…

Sylvester, or The Wicked Uncle has always been right on up there with my favorite Heyers. I think it’s because of the unusual heroine and the complex hero. Most of her heroines have charm to spare and are, if not extremely beautiful, at least attractive with some outstanding feature or another. Phoebe is a drab little “sparrow” who is only at home and comfortable in a stable. She has been bullied and dominated her whole life by a rigid and cold stepmother whose mission in life seems to be to beat every spark of Phoebe’s own unconventional personality out of her and into a model of perfect but insipid behavior. As for our hero, although a large percentage of Heyer heroes are formidable and proud, very few, like Sylvester, have to undergo growth and change in order to find their happy endings. Of course as in all romances, Heyer included, one or both individuals must change towards each other, but not their actual mentalities. In this novel, although Phoebe comes into her own to a certain extent, It is Sylvester’s journey to self awareness that is the significant one.

The Duke of Salford has decided it is time for him to do his duty, get married, and perpetuate the House of Rayne. He has prepared a list of five candidates for the honor of his hand each more well born, well behaved, charming, and beautiful than the next. It makes no difference to him, so he takes his list to his beloved mother to see if she has any input as to which of the fortunate ladies to favor with a proposal of marriage. His wise and gentle mother’s suspicions are confirmed: Although always open, loving, and warm with her, (and his 6 year old nephew and current heir, Edmund) to all others he has closed himself off from any emotional attachment. He is considerate and well-mannered to his servants and his peers and is popular with all. But his exemplary behavior to others is not out of any empathy or warm feeling but because it is what is due to his proud family name and station. He says and does the right things always, but beneath this surface he is cold and aloof. Encouraged by his mother and godmother, on a whim he decides to meet one other candidate for the position of the Duchess of Rayne: Phoebe, the daughter of his mother’s long-deceased best friend and his godmother’s granddaughter. He is not impressed. And neither is Phoebe. To add to her discomfort, she has secretly written a novel which is about to be published and she has based the villain of the bloodthirsty gothic tale on Sylvester. She had met him at a ball once and she noticed his distinctive satanic-looking eyebrows and was hurt by his haughtiness and boredom with her. Of course Sylvester doesn’t remember her at all. Due to a misunderstanding, she has been told that he has travelled to her family’s country home with the intent of actually proposing marriage to her and she better accept him, or else. Horrified and panic-stricken by the prospect, she decides to run away to her grandmother in London (yes, that same one) escorted by her loyal friend Tom. Sylvester is considerably peeved, as well as incredulous, that such a plain and vapid chit of a girl would hold the idea of a proposal of marriage from him in such abhorrence that she would flee from home in a snowstorm. He leaves as well, and inevitably the 3 fugitives meet in a small inn and are marooned together for several days. As they get to know each other, Phoebe learns that Sylvester is actually a pretty good guy beneath the arrogant facade, and Sylvester learns that out from under her stepmother’s thumb, Phoebe is a clever, funny, and forthright original. She is mortified and guilt- stricken that she has made Sylvester her villain in a novel that will potentially hold him up to ridicule and suspicion. And Sylvester is embarrassed to realize that Phoebe’s initial poor opinion of him may be justified.

Adventures, escapades, and misunderstandings ensue. Despite its romp of a plot, there is a serious undertone to this book. Sylvester’s aloofness is self protection and is due to a terrible tragedy in his past. Before he is shaken off his high horse by Phoebe (and the down to earth Tom) he is on his way to a loveless marriage and, except for his care for his invalid mother and his little nephew, an emotionless half-life. The emotional abuse Phoebe has had to endure her whole life is the source of her hypersensitivity and fearfulness in society. Other than her writing, her future is bleak and lonely.

The book contains Heyer’s usual humor and comedy and the light tone is there. But although some of her comic set pieces involving Edmund’s flighty, shallow, and selfish mother and her silly fop of a husband are amusing, there is a potentially a very sad side to even them. When the couple actually kidnap Edmund from the guardianship of his Wicked Uncle (inspired by the plot of Phoebe’s unexpectedly successful novel) Edmund’s life is actually in danger due to their inattention and thoughtlessness, and he is exposed to the cruelty of neglect. Luckily for him, it is Phoebe and Tom to the rescue. And luckily for Sylvester and Phoebe, it is Sylvester’s lovely mother (and Phoebe’s eventual kindred spirit) who will save the day for them. The Duchess of Rayne’s cleverly engineered and tender reconciliation of the two soulmates continually at odds is one of my favorite endings in all of Georgette Heyer’s works.