“Thought the world of you, did Kitten. Wouldn’t hear a word against you; wouldn’t even admit you can’t drive well enough for the F.H.C. That shows you! Always seemed to me she only thought of pleasing you. If she took a fancy to do something she shouldn’t, only had to tell her you wouldn’t like it, and she’d abandon it on the instant. Used to put me in mind of that rhyme, or whatever it was, I learned when I was a youngster. Something about loving and giving: that was Kitten!”
I have read this comic masterpiece many times and I have always enjoyed it. And I have listened to the almost 25-year-old reading by Eve Matheson. Again, very enjoyable. But this new version read by Owen Findley was just too too funny. His interpretations of all the characters were “bang up to the mark.” Hilarious, thoughtful, and touching. My only quibble was that he spoke too quickly but that was easily remedied by turning the speed down to 85%.
I always kind of wondered why Georgette considered this her best work as almost all of them are pretty brilliant, but after listening to this one again, I can’t argue. It’s famous for being her funniest book, but it had never struck me as particularly romantic. But at the end, when Sherry and Kitten are finally reunited….Well. It was as romantic and tender a scene as she ever wrote made even more so by Owen Findley’s subtle and sensitive reading.
Young Lord Sheringham, “Sherry”, has to get married right away because he’s overextended due to gambling debts and is properly “in the basket.” He is very wealthy but won’t come into his inheritance until he is 25 or married, whichever comes first. When his childhood friend, now a great beauty, refuses his offer he vows to marry the first girl he sees. That would be Hero Wantage whom he happens upon sitting on the side of the road. She is another childhood friend, but more of a tag-along or mascot being 5 or so years younger. An orphan, she has run away from the family who took her in. Their generosity has come to an end and they have given her an ultimatum of either becoming a governess or marrying the very dull and sober curate. Clearly in need of rescuing, she is the perfect candidate! It is a Win-Win! Sherry had always been carelessly fond of her but she has always worshiped the ground he walks on. He takes the sweet and naive girl to London and the fun begins. Sherry doesn’t see any reason why he should alter his bachelor lifestyle for a marriage of convenience. And Hero, who he calls “Kitten” is the last person who would make demands or criticize him in any way. In her eyes, he can do no wrong, much to the bemusement of his loyal best friends simple-minded Ferdy Fakenham, the more knowing Gil Ringwood, and the Byronic George Wrotham, who have a more clear-eyed view of their friend Sherry.
As he is driven to distraction rescuing Kitten from one scrape after another, Sherry grows from a spoiled irresponsible young man about town to embrace his adulthood and responsibilities. He realizes that most of the trouble she gets in is because she is following his example! His crew of friends provide more than their fair share of the humor as they come to embrace Kitten as one of the gang and often take a dim view of Sherry’s affectionate but cavalier treatment of her. But when Kitten runs away (long story) Sherry realizes how much he loves and values her. It all culminates in a comic farce at a posting inn involving an elopement, an abduction, and a punch in the nose. It’s a perfect ending.
What a joy after recent reads to fall back on an old favorite that has one of the most lovable and admirable heroines in all of the great Georgette Heyer’s works. Not to mention one of my favorite heroes. I listened to this on Audible and the narration by Gemma Whelan was excellent. When I am asked what my favorite GH regency is, without thinking twice I usually point to this one. Sometimes another, but most likely this one. I believe it may be the first one I ever read back when I was probably 12 or 13. I am proud of my tween self, too used to the obvious romance and strict formula of contemporary and historical gothics, for pushing through the strange words and mannered sentence structure and so much else, to recognize the sheer brilliance and entertainment value of Georgette Heyer. I became a lifelong devotee and gobbled up the rest of her books like candy.
I won’t go into the plot too much because it’s really not all that important. Heyer’s genius is the world she builds, her wit, her comedy, and her characters. Particularly her secondary characters. The setting is my favorite of the several that Heyer usually employs It’s not a road trip, at an Inn, or at a country estate. It is set in the glittery world of London at the height of the season where the elite of society engage in all manner of entertainments and activities with an eye to marrying off their daughters to eligible bachelors who, in turn, need heirs to carry on their line.
Our heroine, Arabella, a country vicar’s daughter, is sent to London to be brought out by her society matron Godmother. On her way to the big city, she meets Robert Beaumaris when she is forced to ask for shelter at his hunting box due to a carriage breakdown. Mr. Beaumaris is the richest, most admired, and feted Corinthian in the land and is constantly being pursued by hopeful young females. He assumes that Arabella is one of their ilk and she overhears him explaining this to his guest Lord Fleetwood. Being a girl of spirit, she is mightily offended and is goaded to portray herself as a fabulously wealthy heiress to disabuse him of his false assumption and to teach him a lesson.
She contrived, without precisely making so vulgar a boast, to convey the impression that she was escaping from courtships so persistent as to amount to persecution; and Mr Beaumaris, listening with intense pleasure, said that London was the very place for anyone desirous of escaping attention.
Of course, he sees right through her and it amuses him to make her the belle of the season which he can do by merely not looking bored in her presence.
Because of Mr. Beaumaris’s flattering attentions, Arabella’s season fast becomes a success beyond her wildest dreams. When she and her Godmother become aware that the whole of London believes her to be fabulously wealthy, it certainly explains why gazetted fortune hunters are hanging around a poor vicar’s daughter. Arabella, whose conscience is finely honed thanks to her upbringing, feels terribly guilty and to make matters more awkward, she is falling for the sophisticated Mr. Beaumaris. She can’t bear to tell him what a lying silly fool she was. Not to mention his power, with a glance, to squash all of her popularity and her mother’s hopes of her attracting an eligible suitor. As for Mr. Beaumaris, much to his bemusement, he unexpectedly finds himself wound around her little finger. He has grown to realize that not only is Arabella beautiful and unspoiled, but she is a person of great moral and physical courage. In short, the girl he has been looking for all of his life. Not that he was looking for such a girl of course, but someone of substance who would not bore him. The scenes where Arabella, in his presence, rescues a chimney sweep from his cruel master and routs a gang of boys torturing a dirty mongrel, are two of the most entertaining and heartwarming scenes in all of Heyer. The scenes in which the cool and sophisticated Mr. Beaumaris agrees to provide each of these unattractive unfortunates with safe havens and their subsequent effect on his formerly peaceful household (and him) follow closely behind.
The delights of this book are many. Some of my favorites other than those mentioned above, are:
The scenes with Arabella’s large and loving family at the beginning and Mr. Beaumaris’ description of his visit to her family in the wilds of Yorkshire to ask permission for her hand at the end.
Arabella, her sister, and her mother’s preparations to ensure Arabella is not viewed as a country bumpkin when she is introduced to society. And Arabella’s astonishment and secret amusement at the irony when Mr. Beaumaris compliments her on setting an example of taste and modesty in her jewelry and attire that her fellow debutantes are trying to copy.
Mr. Beaumaris’s conversations with and asking for the advice of Ulysses, the rescued mutt that immediately becomes slavishly devoted to him. Heyer’s detailed descriptions of Ulysses’s behavior make him one of the most entertaining characters in the book. The author’s lifelong love and knowledge of dogs shines through.
Chase that cur out of here, Joe! …‘Do nothing of the sort, Joe!’ interrupted Mr Beaumaris. ‘Is he yours sir?’ gasped the landlord. ‘Certainly he is mine. A rare specimen: his family tree would surprise you!’
Mr. Beaumaris’ visit to his grandmother, one of the great dames of her time, to prepare her for his impending marriage, if Arabella will have him.
When the book takes a long side trip to deal with the cautionary tale of Arabella’s brother Bertram’s arrival in London, I resented, in the past, the time away from Arabella’s adventures and romance. But this time, thanks to the narration, many of the scenes of Bertram’s descent into danger and probable disgrace were highlights. His desperation in trying to gamble his way out of debt in an exclusive gaming house playing at a table banked by none other than “The Nonpareil” himself. And how Beaumaris navigates the dilemma of how to handle the situation. And Arabella braving the squalor and danger of the most poverty-stricken area of London to rescue him. Leaky Peg! Quattern Sue! (and her gin-drinking baby!)
In thinking about Arabella, I wonder whom of Georgette Heyer’s many wonderful heroines would take on the salvation of dirty climbing boys, abused horses, mangy curs, sick parlor maids, or slatternly prostitutes. That is, should they be so unhappy as to come across them, of course. At the end of the book, I took a minute to envision Arabella’s and Robert’s future life beyond the pages of the book. As well as a devoted society wife and mother, I am convinced she will become a famous philanthropist and a great lady who will tackle the many evils of the day. But in large ways as well as small. In this, she will be ably assisted by her husband who, though not getting his hands dirty, will unfailingly support and defend her against the disapproval of their peers with his great wealth and influence. Perhaps he will even run for office with Arabella’s persistent encouragement?
“She thought, in touching innocence, that in Miles Calverleigh she had found a friend, and a better one by far than any other, because his mind moved swiftly, because he could make her laugh even when she was out of charity with him, and because of a dozen other attributes which were quite frivolous – hardly attributes at all, in fact – but which added up to a charming total, outweighing the more important faults in his character.”
“I love you, you know,’ he said conversationally. ‘Will you marry me?’ The manner in which he made this abrupt proposal struck her as being so typical of him that a shaky laugh was dragged from her. ‘Of all the graceless ways of making me an offer – ! No, no, you are not serious! you cannot be!’ ‘Of course I’m serious! A pretty hobble I should be in if I weren’t, and you accepted my offer!
I can’t deny Black Sheep by Georgette Heyer 5-star status. It was formerly a 4-star and thus relegated to second-tier status (for a Heyer). This is not a book I re-read over and over like These Old Shades, Frederica,Cotillion, or Arabella to name a few. It was one of her later books (though the book right after Frederica, one of my favorites,) when her powers were not at their height. The one after this was the almost universally disparaged Cousin Kate, and the one after that was the boring and flat Charity Girl, and the one after that was Lady of Quality, which is really just a pale imitation of this one. And we will let the unfortunate My Lord John lay there undisturbed out of respect. But this one is a fan favorite and when it was on sale at Audible with a new reader, Natalie Simpson, I bought it and took the opportunity to reacquaint myself with it and discover what is behind its popularity. And I did.
The reader was “unexceptional” which in Heyer-speak means perfectly fine. I won’t go into the plot except that it revolves around our heroine coming to Bath to prevent a disastrous misalliance between her much loved 17-year-old niece and Stacy Caverleigh, a suave and charming cad and fortune hunter. She tries to enlist the help of his uncle, Miles Caverleigh, who has recently returned from 20 years of exile in India. Unfortunately for Abigail, if Miles had any religion, it would be against his to get involved.
He was not a rebel. Rebels fought against the trammels of convention, and burned to rectify what they saw to be evil in the shibboleths of an elder generation, but Miles Calverleigh was not of their number. No wish to reform the world inspired him, not the smallest desire to convert others to his own way of thinking. He accepted, out of a vast and perhaps idle tolerance, the rules laid down by a civilised society, and, when he transgressed these, accepted also, and with unshaken good-humour, society’s revenge on him. Neither the zeal of a reformer, nor the rancour of one bitterly punished for the sins of his youth, awoke a spark of resentment in his breast. He did not defy convention: when it did not interfere with whatever line of conduct he meant to pursue he conformed to it; and when it did he ignored it, affably conceding to his critics their right to censure him, if they felt so inclined, and caring neither for their praise nor their blame.
Abigail and Miles are perfect for each other from the very beginning. Their attraction to each other was palpable throughout. I particularly loved Miles. He kind of reminded me of Rhett Butler: Somewhat of a “loose screw”, but ultimately a good man who goes his own way and doesn’t care two hoots about the silly conventional rules of society.
But, we come to learn, he respects the feelings and values of people who really matter to him (when they aren’t being swayed by pesky outside influences, that is.) By people who matter, I mostly mean Abigail, of course. As beloved as she is to her older clingy sister Serena, and her young niece, Fanny, to the rest of her conventional conservative family, she is almost as much of a Black Sheep as Miles is to society at large. He turns out to be the missing piece she didn’t know she lacked to break her free from her constricted life and become truly free and happy. Which will only happen after the final delightful scene in the book.
As for Miles, it is through his machinations which we only suspect are going on behind the scenes, and then not until the book is in its final chapters, that things work out to the satisfaction of all of those we like, and the disgruntlement of those we don’t. Young Fanny is saved and is well on her way to a suitable love match with another, Stacy, the villain, is vanquished in 6 different ways to Sunday, society and conventional forces are flouted but will soon be brought to heel, and those that love and depend on Abigail a little too much are gently set aside. As for Abigail and Miles they will embark on a marriage and a life that we imagine will be filled with passion, adventure, and even peace when it suits them. And it is all pretty epic. Other than Venetia, I think it is one of the most romantic of Heyer’s Novels. Brava to the genius of Georgette Heyer.
The family had long been prosperously settled in Huntingdonshire. If they were notable at all, it was for a habit of not distinguishing themselves; and as no firmer warrant for respectability could be imagined, they continued to enjoy the widespread esteem of their acquaintance, to be buried with due formality in the vault at Wythorpe church when they died, and to be absolutely forgotten straight afterwards.
Caroline did not lack for partners in the succeeding dances, and one flushed young man who had drunk too much wine repeatedly informed her, with more gallantry than exactitude, that she was a magnificent Tigress. It was partly to escape the attentions of this zoological gentleman that she withdrew to the card room.
This definitely started off slowly and it took me some time to get reconciled to the idiosyncrasies of the writing. Obviously influenced by Georgette Heyer’s incorporation of the dialect and words of the era, it seemed a little try-hard.
Mrs Catling’s personal maid— a little pinched comfit-chewer with a look of settled, not to say lifelong discontent.
It took me a bit to get used to the cadences and the wordsmithing, but once I did, I appreciated the quality of the writing, for sure.
Mr Leabrook seemed to find nothing in her silence or awkward looks to disconcert him, however; and proceeded in his soft yet precise voice, like the purposeful padding of cat’s feet.
He still tended to speak too partially of his own feelings, and to suppose that his idiosyncrasies were of necessity interesting; whereas she could not be convinced, even by ever so emphatic a manner, that a violent dislike of onion-sauce called for any special comment, still less admiration. But he was sincere and well-meaning, of that she was sure; and she felt for his difficult situation. Indeed, it was this that made Caroline his partisan.
He was one of the few men she had seen who suited the fashionable Windswept style that his thick black hair was dressed in— perhaps because he seemed always caught in a gust of emotion.
He never uses a common word when a more obscure one will do, but that didn’t bother me and my vocabulary appreciated it.
We follow in our 20-year-old heroine Caroline Fortune’s wake as she navigates through three distinct spheres of the Regency World, always doing so with grace, humor, kindness, and common sense. We first meet her as the loving but frustrated sole companion of her father and living in a seedy section of London. They are devoted to each other but are destitute thanks to her handsome father’s irresponsibility with what little income they have from his military pension. Her mother is eight years dead. She came from a respectable and well-off family but was disowned when she followed her heart and married Captain Fortune, itinerant actor, and former military man.
One step ahead of Debtor’s Prison and desperate to save his daughter, Captain Fortune secures a paid position for her as the companion to the widow of his old Colonel, Mrs. Catling, an old battleaxe if ever there was one. He escapes to Bath as Caroline settles in Brighton with her new employer. She meets and becomes friendly with Mrs. Catling’s niece and nephew who visit her frequently and are dependent on her financially to maintain their semi-fashionable lifestyle. She also becomes friendly with their friend, Mr. Leabrook, a handsome and smooth wealthy landowner who shows every indication of admiring Caroline very much. Unfortunately, he eventually proves to be not the paragon he first appears to be. Our heroine rubs along very well thanks to her composure in dealing with Mrs. Catling’s ways. Her situation changes once again about a third of the way through the book when she receives word of her father’s reconciliation with her late mother’s sister and her husband but also his unfortunate sudden demise. When Mrs. Catling refuses to allow her time off to attend her father’s funeral, she quits, and we follow her to the third and last stop on her journey: her life with her loving Aunt and Uncle in the country parish where he is the rector. It is at this point that the book really picked up for me. It was just such a relief to have the deserving Caroline find a safe haven.
She had moved amongst many circles in her life, some clever, some stupid, some moneyed, some threadbare, but all more or less sophisticated, and not inclined to expect much virtue in others, or to cultivate it in themselves. It came as a revelation, not quite commensurate with the proven existence of the fairies, but almost as charming and bewildering, that all the time there had been this other race of beings: kind, gentle, reliable, unworldly.
It is there that she meets and becomes close to the aristocratic Milner family particularly Isabella, of her own age, who becomes her good friend. Besides Isabella’s bossy and abrasive stepmother and her Navy Captain cousin, that household also includes Isabelle’s free-thinking and unconventional younger sister Fanny and her eccentric brother Stephen who would rather be exploring archaeological sites than staying home tending to his business there. To Caroline’s dismay, she also learns that Isabella’s oft-spoken-of but temporarily absent-from-home fiance is none other than the morally suspect Mr. Leabrook.
The book is dense with intrigues and subplots, but the main strength of this book is the characterizations. All of those who revolve around Caroline were extremely well drawn with many layers and complexities and amusingly described.
She was a garrulous woman who had long been listened to with rather too much indulgence, and who was a little too inclined to consider herself a Character, on no greater evidence than a continual compulsion to talk about herself, and some large rings.
Many turned out to be quite different from what they at first seemed. Mrs. Catling first came across as a prototypical curmudgeonly old dragon: tough and demanding but admirable in her own way. By the end of our time with her she has proven to be just nasty and mean.
As to why Mrs Catling should play this unpleasant game, perhaps no further reason needed to be sought than that it gave her pleasure to meddle, mar, and hurt: this human propensity not being so uncommon as ever to excite surprise when detected.
Two of the characters owe a good bit to Jane Austen’s Colonel Brandon and Lydia Bennett. But they don’t start out that way. Another character starts out to be very unsympathetic and cold but proves her mettle when the chips are down. The character of the hero surprisingly was a problem for me. He was obviously intelligent, even intellectual, yet his conversation, particularly with Caroline was often silly and prattling with no purpose other than to amuse himself and call attention to his “wit” and famous quirkiness. But then, perhaps he was nervous around her? Even our heroine has to tell him to just shut up at one point near the end despite her love for him and their mutually enjoyable banter.
I definitely recommend this book to those who have read and re-read Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer, but crave some fresh delights. But a modicum of patience might be required and a few weaknesses overlooked. Lord, I guess a bit of Jude Morgan has rubbed off on me.
The Marquis believed himself to be hardened against flattery. He thought that he had experienced every variety, but he discovered that he was mistaken: the blatantly worshipful look in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, anxiously raised to his, was new to him, and it pierced his defences. He was capable of giving the coolest of set-downs to any gushing female; and the advances of toadeaters he met with the most blistering of snubs; but even as he realised how intolerably bored he would be in Soho he found himself quite unable to snub his latest and most youthful admirer. It would be like kicking a confiding puppy.
In rereading Frederica (on audio) I did something I don’t often do which is read two books by the same author in a row. But, since my experience with the narration ofThese Old Shades was less than the best, when I saw The unabridged Frederica in my audible library, I couldn’t resist the temptation to take another whack at one of my most beloved authors. Besides, this book always reminds me of springtime with its settings and outdoor adventures: a family dog harassing cows in the park unaware of proper canine London manners, a runaway bicycle, scientific excursions, balls and parties, and of course a runaway hot-air balloon. Thankfully the narration of Clifford Norgate was “bang up to the mark” with even his female characters escaping the affected tones too many male readers give their females.
Although no longer available on audible, I had downloaded this to my phone at one time so I still had access to it. Hopefully, the unabridged versions will be available again eventually in the United States as they are in the U.K. This one was an excellent interpretation. Mr. Norgate’s voicing of the Marquis of Alverstoke had nuance and subtlety and lived up to my imagination of his tone and expression. His inner dialogue trying to suss out his true feelings for the redoubtable Frederica gave a fresh insight into Heyer’s words. Some of the most amusing and memorable scenes (The Baluchistan Hound Incident and the dampening effect of “Restorative Pork Jelly” on incipient declarations of love) were “complete to a shade.”
Frederica Merriville has come to London so her beautiful and impossibly sweet and gentle younger sister can have her season and hopefully find an eligible match so she can be comfortably settled. She has audaciously reached out to her very distant cousin Alverstoke whom she has never met for assistance in getting her launched into society. He has no intention of doing any such thing, but once he meets the unusually frank and unaffected Frederica, her two young brothers, and Charis, a “diamond of first water” he thinks it might be an amusing joke on his two tiresome sisters, who have been needling him to give balls for their unimpressive daughters. He will do so but only if Charis is introduced at their sides. They are surprised but thrilled at his change of mind as their brother Vernon is a very rich and important figure in the topmost ranks of society. The Marquis has served them the lesson they deserve when they meet the lovely Charis, who totally outshines every girl in London and certainly her two plain cousins. But he’s not shot of the little family yet.
Charis soon becomes the darling of society, and her 24 year old “on the shelf” sister Frederica is well-received as well. Meanwhile, Felix and Jeremy, Frederica’s young brothers, take a liking to “Cousin Alverstoke” and he starts to become much more involved with the lively family than he ever intended. As he is drawn into their escapades, the perpetually bored Alverstoke is for once, not bored. Of course, Charis falls in love with a totally unsuitable but handsome blockhead, and Frederica struggles mightily to not be a bother to the formidable Marquis. But far from being intimidated, she finds herself constantly in need of his help and advice. The marquis, meanwhile, is falling deeply in love with this girl who treats him like an indulgent and kind uncle much to his bemusement.
This is a bright and delightful book. Georgette Heyer was still at the height of her powers and Frederica is one of her most charming and likable heroines. Alverstoke is one of her most well-drawn and witty romantic leads and their interactions are high points. Felix and Jeremy are two very different brothers but are both irrepressible and fun. Even Alverstoke’s quiet and efficient secretary, Charles Trevor, shines and even plays a surprising heroic role during a final crisis. My favorite Heyer novels take place in London during the season where conversation, descriptions, and settings sparkle, and the ability to navigate the tricky conventions and manners of society put futures on the line. And you might even meet real historical figures like the Prince Regent, Beau Brummel, Gentleman Jackson, or Sally Jersey and her cohorts. This one has the extra attraction of a warm and happy family at its center.
Frederica, The Marquis of Alverstoke, and the Beautiful Charis
“Dear Edward has given Fanny a chocolate-coloured coach with pale blue cushions. The wheat is picked out in blue.” He held the sheet at arm’s length. “It seems strange, but no doubt Fanny is right. I have not been in England for such a time…Ah, I beg her pardon. You will be relieved to hear, my dear Hugh, that the wheat still grows as it ever did. The wheels are picked out in blue.”
–The Duke of Avon, reading a letter aloud from his sister Fanny
This was a reread on Audible of a book I’ve read so many times I know a lot of it by heart, even though it’s probably been more than 2 decades since my last reading. The quote above, I remember, was when I read the book for the first time, my emotions went from enjoyment and anticipation to sheer delight. Although the incurably romantic and fun story still holds up, it suffers from the narration. Cornelius Garrett does not do well interpreting the suave, omniscient, and mordant Duke of Avon. Justin Alistair is an iconic character in the romance world, upon which many many subsequent romantic heroes by many other authors has been based over the years. I don’t think Mr. Garrett understood his character. He plays him in a voice that is too high-pitched and is sometimes bombastic and querulous. There is little nuance and little comic timing. In my own mind, I hear Avon’s voice as somewhat affected but not effeminate. I hear the unhurried, dry, and quiet tones of the late great Alan Rickman. Cornelius Garrett is no Alan Rickman.
That off my chest, although I was entertained, and enjoyed revisiting one of my old-time favorites, I wasn’t as charmed and admiring of Leonie this time around. Her devotion to “Monseigneur” and her impish spirited antics (“Egad, you wildcat!”) after restored to her true female self were a little much. But the plot, the dialogue, and all of the other characters, including Justin Alastair, as written, if not played, were as entertaining as always. It is no wonder that so many aspects of the book have been so copied, even to this day, almost 100 years later.
Two oft-criticized aspects of the book are the age gap between Justin and Leonie (40 vs. 20) and the other is the emphasis of birth over breeding in the determination of character. As far as the age gap, I do not have a problem with it. It is not all that much more than Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman, or Richard Gere and Julia Roberts. Bogie was 45 and Bacall was 20 when they met. Cary Grant was 59 and Audrey Hepburn was 25 years younger when they starred together in Charade. As far as the importance of genetics in the determination of character, the criticism hits home a bit more strongly. Genetics is certainly a factor, but it doesn’t trump everything. Despite 20 years of being raised as a peasant, we are told Leonie never exhibits any coarseness. And conversely, in regards to the peasant with whom she was exchanged at birth, despite being raised as an aristocrat, he is awkward in society and wants nothing more than to be a farmer. Of course in my early readings of this book, I didn’t think a thing about it. And you know, some difference between the two can be explained by the behavior of both sets of parents who knew the truth. But I mustn’t digress.
These Old Shades is a most entertaining read. It has it all: romance, wit, comedy, adventure, suspense, cheer-worthy moments, triumph, and emotion. I love the descriptions of the fashions and toilettes, the glitterati, both fictional and real, and the settings. Although it’s too much to ask any book to recapture the joy it may have first brought once upon a time, it’s good to revisit books that once brought that joy. **5 stars, of course.**
I don’t really mind when heroines are unlikable at first. I enjoy a good redemption story. Laura starts out as not seeming very bright, despite having an interesting job which she is good at. Her fatal flaw is her self-deluded history of making every guy she is attracted to into a fairy tale hero and believing him to be the one true love of her life. Again and again. This is partly thanks to her aspiration of modeling her beloved confidant and grandmother Mary’s extremely happy second marriage. When her latest relationship with an engaged man predictably implodes and rains humiliation upon her, she is rightly ashamed of herself. Suspended from her job, she retreats to the bosom of her sweet family and joins them on vacation. She has finally been shocked into gaining insight and clarity into her past romantic foolishness and decides to turn over a new leaf. Step one:
She moved over to the bookshelf. Laura gulped. This was harder than she’d expected…Firm. Strong. Away with childish things….into the box went all her Nancy Mitford books. In went all her Mills & Boon romances. She hesitated over her Jane Austen collection. Surely that was proper English literature, she shouldn’t be throwing it away! You never read them for academic enjoyment, Laura Foster,…you read them because they make you swoon and sigh and have striding men wearing breeches in them. In they go. Finally, she reached up the top shelf of her bookcase. With shaking hands, she picked up her Georgette Heyer collection. She knew it had to be done, but, by God, it hurt. Tears came into her eyes. One by one, she dropped each book in the box, watched as they slammed onto each other, the pale colors of the old paperback covers gleaming up out of the box at her. It was torture.
Fate is cruel, however. No sooner does she turn over a new leaf, and is keeping herself fully grounded in reality, she meets a nice handsome estate manager with whom she has an instant rapport and attraction. And horrors! It is soon revealed that he is an incredibly wealthy and powerful nobleman, and, in fact, the third most eligible bachelor in all of England(after Harry and William). In fact, he is the embodiment of every girl’s romantic fantasy and fairy-tale hero. He is even has a damaged past. Will Laura fall into her old ways? Is she destined for heartbreak? Or has she learned her lesson too well, and thrown away the one chance with the man who really is the true love of her life? I found the last part of the book very romantic
In addition to the primary romance, there is a hint of a secondary romance or two, a few heart-tugging scenes, many very endearing and complex secondary characters, Family drama (more funny than serious), and Laura’s not always successful efforts to rehabilitate her relations with her friends, family, and job. These are hampered by her going too far in the other direction and becoming cynical and closed off. It won’t be a spoiler to reveal that she finally achieves balance. She does go back to Heyer’s Regency Buck, but assures her friend that she is also reading Trainspotting. As a Georgette Heyer devotee, I was delighted by the references to her.
She saw herself for once without pretense, not as a girl from some book in a crinoline, dipping low in a curtsey at a ball..or a new person who..brooked no argument, who let no one enter her life, who did not suffer weakness or fools. She was just—–herself.
I knew this book had a sequel when I started reading it. I am looking forward to spending more time with the delightful and not so delightful characters in this book.
For a modern Regency romance, this one was not half bad. I don’t remember why I picked this one up, especially since I had thought another book by this author was so absurd that I gave it one star and skipped through most of it in 2 hours. I think it was because someone on my Georgette Heyer Facebook group compared the hero of this one, Freddy, to Freddy ofCotillion Indeed the hero was the best thing about this book and did bear a passing resemblance to one of my favorite heroes.
Unfortunately, I am just about over romance novels that don’t bring anything more to the table than the romance. Here we have two protagonists who are dead set against getting married agreeing to a fake betrothal to keep people off their backs. This one suffers because the journey to the inevitable finally falling in love part and the entirely obvious from the beginning deep dark secret that the heroine harbors is pretty tedious.
But there were some bright spots. One was the heroine’s takedown and telling off of Freddy’s cruel and blind parents.
Damaris couldn’t believe it. Had they never reflected on what they’d done? “You two treated him like an assassin, when he was just a little boy who liked to play cricket with his brother. Twelve years old, and you pushed him out of the family…What kind of parents are you? You lost one son, but you threw the other away.”
And it was not just one short scene either. She wins every point quite a few times.
The other was Freddy’s refreshing reaction to Damaris’ drama of finally confessing why she can never marry.
“Well, I’m shocked,” said Freddy in as shocked a manner as he could conjure up. “Deeply shocked,” he repeated. “May I serve you some of this apple tart? It looks and smells delicious, doesn’t it?” “Apple tart?” she repeated blankly. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
Poor Damaris. She sure got the wind taken out of her sails.
Anne Gracie is not a bad writer, but there is no wit despite the light pleasant easy tone. There are too many eye-rolling moments and cliches in character development and plot. She is very repetitive. The cutesy term “muffin” for ingenues trying to trap Freddy into marriage is repeated like 40 times in a book just a little over 300 pages long. It was distracting and annoying.
“I confess I found it somewhat insipid when I last went….it was all so prosy – so bonnety – so whisty and teacuppy – you see, the adjectives for it do not even exist, and I must invent them.”
Jude Morgan is a skilled writer with a quirky, eccentric style. He changes tenses and points of view. He almost randomly inserts colons everywhere. He uses colons like he went to a colon firesale and bought every one. There is a witty turn of phrase, observation, or piece of cleverness on almost every page. We roll our eyes or smile with (or at) almost all of the characters. Sometimes we even laugh out loud at the frequently amusing dialogue and observations.
The plot is woven from the plotlines of most if not all of Jane Austen’s novels. It’s mostly Emma, but It is peopled with dozens of characters or combinations of such from her other books. Mapping out the intermingling plotlines and characters would make a fascinating spreadsheet. Sometimes a character starts out as one Austen character and ends as another. That’s a weakness, as it is not a character development so much as a whiplash-inducing about-face. Yet, there are no surprises in the book if you have read Jane Austen. It is liberally sprinkled with Austen allusions, isms, and inside jokes. It starts out very Austen but ends up very Georgette Heyer. I count that as a strength: (colon!) It’s fun, and Mr. Morgan knows his stuff. My only complaint is it ends rather abruptly. I wish he had ended the book by reverting back to Austen for a chapter to get all of the characters neatly disposed of, and a little glimpse into the future.
Despite the Duke’s reputation with women, which was very true, her father judged him to be a man of principle and honor. As duke and head of his family, Roxton took his responsibilities to family and retainers very seriously. Her father added with a shrewd laugh that the nobleman’s blackened shell covered a multitude of decencies.
This is a successful homage, I believe, to Georgette Heyer’s great and beloved These Old Shades. Many elements of the plot are different, but the main characters are very comparable. The Duke of Roxton is not as omnipotent and invulnerable as Avon. But this threw some interesting and enjoyable aspects into his relationship with the Leonie character, played by Antonia. If you’ve ever wished for a peek behind Leonie’s and Avon’s bedroom door, a more intimate look at how their relationship and marriage might have played out, this is the book for you. Don’t expect a lot of clinical detail in the love-making, but for me, it was just enough.
Lucinda Brant is a very good writer and she apparently specializes in the Georgian time period which I think she captured beautifully. There is lots of detail and authenticity in her descriptions of the fashions, manners, culture and historical personages. It is not a great book overall like These Old Shades is but in many ways, such as the deeper dive into family and more sinister and threatening evil schemers (and the resulting suspense and tension), it improved upon the original. Lightning please don’t strike me. I am looking forward to reading the next novel in the series someday soon.
Rebekah's Readings and Watchings 