Mary Kingswood's Blog, page 14

June 12, 2023

Review: The Road To Gretna by Carola Dunn (1992)

This was a complete riot. Two eloping couples meet on the way to Gretna Green, and as their journeys become more and more entwined, it becomes clear that the pairings are sadly mismatched. It’s a follow-on to A Lord For Miss Larkin, but there’s very little reference to that story, except that the hero here was the villain (of a sort) in the earlier book.

Here’s the premise: Jason, Lord Kilmore, is in desperate needs of funds to rescue him from penury. He tried in the previous book to elope with heiress Alison Larkin, but that came to nought. Now he’s eloping with heiress Henrietta White, who’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but pretty. And rich. Very, very rich. But when he arrives at Henrietta’s house in the dead of night, with a carriage awaiting them, the lady who drops into his arms, literally, from an upper window is not the delicate form of Henrietta, but the larger person of Penny Bryant. This scene is so redolent of Georgette Heyer’s The Corinthian, even to the name (Penelope) of the heroine that I was rather taken aback. However, it soon diverges as the two realise their mistake – they are both eloping, but not with each other. Jason has entered the wrong garden from the mews. Penny sets him right and they part amicably, Jason finds Henrietta, accompanied by her maid, a kitten and a mountain of luggage, and away they go.

Needless to say, the two couples, departing from the same spot and bound on the same journey, inevitably meet up several times on the road, and Jason and Penny are called upon to solve the many difficulties they encounter, many of them, it has to be said, created by Henrietta and her kitten (and who takes a kitten on an elopement?). Penny’s intended, the very Scottish Dr Angus Knox, is just as irritating as Henrietta in his way, especially when he descends into almost impenetrable dialect. I could have done with a lot less of the ‘dinnae ken’ and whatnot.

But our hero and heroine are lovely, and Jason redeems himself in spades for his behaviour in the previous book, when he was actually the villain of the piece, albeit a rather half-hearted one. And now we know why, because the author intended him to be the hero in this book. There’s a very nice ending, when Jason disposes in economical style of the villain of this book, and if it’s all very implausible, it’s also funny and oddly touching to see Jason the fortune-hunter rising to the occasion in magnificent style. A very enjoyable five stars.

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Published on June 12, 2023 15:22

Review: A Lord For Miss Larkin by Carola Dunn (1991)

I’m a fan of Carola Dunn’s Regencies, and although they don’t all work for me, that’s true of any author, and the writing is always superb, even if I do occasionally want to throttle the hero. But no such difficulties here. Mr Philip Trevelyan is the perfect hero, a man who makes things happen and can always be depended on, and he has almost superhuman powers of restraint, a characteristic which all Regency gentlemen should display but often don’t.

Here’s the premise: Miss Alison Larkin is living a hand-to-mouth existence in an unfashionable part of London, with a collection of gently eccentric aunts, three small dogs and one great big one (a Newfoundland, who turns out to have a starring role in the story). Another, even more eccentric, aunt returns, newly widowed, from India with her late husband’s fortune in her reticule. She’s determined to spend some of that money on Alison to give her a proper season, and a dowry to boot. None of the aunts is suited to sponsoring her in society, however, so the Nabob aunt engages Lady Emma Grant, the widow of a baron, to launch her.

At this point the story is the very conventional one of the unsophisticated debutante going through the usual rituals of buying new clothes, learning to dance, attending her first ball, hoping for vouchers from Almack’s and so forth. It’s very resonant of Georgette Heyer’s Arabella, with the beautiful young lady finding herself much sought after, and her suitors unaware of her humble background. The big difference is that Arabella is thought to be an heiress, whereas Alison actually is an heiress. The other principal difference is that Alison has set her heart on marrying a lord. I can’t remember whether any sensible reason was given for this or whether it was merely a whim, but although she understands that it’s unlikely, she is definitely leaning in that direction. Which is why she doesn’t even consider the very attractive Mr Philip Trevelyan, the first eligible man to cross her path in this new life of hers. It doesn’t help, of course, that he displays not the least interest in her, in fact, he seems rather to sneer at this upstart cit his good friend Emma has taken on. It also doesn’t help that the reader’s first sight of him is proposing to Emma (who fortunately turns him down).

As is the way of books of this era, Alison is pretty enough and lively enough and rich enough to spark a ton of interest from society gentlemen, and several of them are lords, too. There’s attractive but impoverished Lord Kilmore, for a start. Then there’s Alison’s charming cousin, Lord Deverill. And there’s steady but dull Lord Fane. And while Alison is focused on her bevy of lords, she’s slowly coming to depend on Philip, and he’s slowly coming to appreciate all her good points. So far, so predictable, and although her lords deplore the eccentric aunts and unfashionable home address, somehow it doesn’t stop Alison becoming a runaway success and getting those oh-so-important vouchers for Almack’s.

Now, none of this is enough to set the book much above the readable but unremarkable run of the mill for Regencies of the era. But towards the end, it manages to rise above the average in a most unusual way. This is somewhat spoilerish, so skip to the last paragraph if you don’t want to know any more.

When the other lords fall by the wayside, for one reason or another, and Lord Fane is the last one left standing, Philip does something quite remarkable. He’s well aware by this time that he wants to marry Alison, but he thinks she sees him merely as an avuncular white knight who rides to her rescue when needed. He thinks, too, that she truly wants to marry a lord. And why shouldn’t she have her wish? So he sets up a house party at his estate, invites Lord Fane and Alison, and leaves them to sort things out between them. As someone says to him, he’s taking a terrible risk, and if this story were to be written nowadays, undoubtedly the hero would muscle his way between heroine and lordly suitor, and do everything in his power to prevent the match. Or he might declare himself, and thus give her the choice. But no, with the true restraint of a Regency gentleman, he stands aside.

I have to say, though, that while I am totally in awe of such authentic principles, it puts the heroine in a terrible dilemma. It’s the great conundrum of life for a Regency heroine — does she accept the offer that’s on the table, even if it’s not perfect, or does she hold out for a better (or at least more palatable) offer, which may never happen? If she misjudges, she may end up married to the wrong man, or else left on the shelf altogether. This is why I’m always in favour of giving the heroine the full choice of options, and here her sponsor in society, Lady Emma, should have been alert to the possibility. She should have been whispering in her ear that Lord Fane was not the only man with a serious interest in her. How can Alison make a rational choice without all the information?

But of course, everything comes right in the end, although not without a little gratuitous melodrama to liven things up, and give the hero the opportunity to show off his heroic tendencies. A lovely read, beautifully written and totally authentic. Highly recommended. Five stars.

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Published on June 12, 2023 15:18

May 29, 2023

Review: Miss Percy’s Travel Guide to Welsh Moors and Feral Dragons (2022)

I absolutely loved the first book of this series, so reading this follow-on was a no-brainer. Curiously, though, although it started out in grand style, I soon found my interest waning. Twice I set it aside to read something else, or several something elses, and grew increasingly reluctant to pick it up again. I’m not quite sure why, because all the elements I loved in the first one are here again, but somehow it just didn’t work as well for me.

Here’s the premise: unlikely heroine Miss Mildred Percy escaped from dreary middle-aged poor-relation-dom in book 1 by accidentally hatching a dragon, aided by even more unlikely hero, Mr Claude Wiggan, the even more middle-aged vicar. Now, accompanied by Mr Wiggan’s housekeeper/cook, Mrs Babbinton, they have embarked on a journey into Wales to find the legendary Nest of Dragons and (they hope) someone who knows something about them and can help them raise Fitz (the dragon). They didn’t expect it to be easy – and it isn’t! Along the way, they encounter all sorts of problems, like terrified locals, deceptive allies and relations, not to mention a dragon who spouts fire at all sorts of inopportune moments, but they also find that not everyone disbelieves the legends of dragons, and they find friends in some odd places. I’m not going to spoil the plot by telling you any more about it. Suffice it to say there are some surprising twists along the way (well, they surprised me!).

The author has developed a unique writing style for these books, a rambling loosely-threaded stream of observations and asides in nested parentheses, sometimes even breaking the fourth wall to talk directly, author to reader. Not everyone likes it, but I think it’s clever and funny and actually works very well, most of the time. And therein lies the rub. This book seemed to be somewhat more action packed than the first one, and this long-winded style of prose just doesn’t work with the tension of (say) a confrontation with a pitchfork wielding mob. I found myself skipping whole paragraphs just to find out what happens, and that’s a shame, when every seemingly meandering sentence is actually so carefully constructed. This problem seemed less acute at the end, or maybe I’d got more used to it by then, I don’t know, but there were too many times when it felt intrusive rather than charmingly quirky, and that’s a crying shame.

The other problem, I think, is repetition. I got a little tired of hearing just how dishevelled the travellers were, and how Mrs Babbinton rustled up cakes in thirty seconds out of nothing at all (it seemed), and how tired and dirty and rain-drenched they were. Does it never stop raining in Wales? Apparently not.

But Miss Percy and Mr Wiggan continue to delight, and if they are off to London in the next book (as seems likely) I sincerely hope they take the time to pop into church and get married, because they deserve a little marital happiness. A good four stars, but for anyone thinking of trying it out, I recommend reading a little sample first, in case the quirky writing style grates on you.

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Published on May 29, 2023 14:55

Review: A Regency Scandal by Alice Chetwynd Ley (1979)

This is a strange book. I’ve read other books by this author, and they were all light, fluffy affairs. This is a much more serious read, longer, wordier and darker generally. It also has an odd structure, where the first third of the book is essentially prologue, a long, rambling exposition of the backstory to the main part of the novel. It would be very easy to read the blurb and start reading and then wonder if you had the wrong book altogether. I know, because that’s exactly what I did.

The first part of the book deals with an earlier generation, with Viscount Shaldon, son and heir of the Earl of Alvington. Shaldon is a weak man, quite unable to stand up to his strong-minded father, and held financially captive by him. But he’s also quite unable to keep himself out of trouble. So when he’s attracted to a pretty, vapid and quite unsuitable girl who’s barely gentry, he thinks it would be a clever wheeze to marry her. That will show his father that he’s his own man! But somehow, he never quite summons the courage to tell his father what he’s done, and when his father pushes him towards a far more suitable match, to the daughter of a neighbour, Shaldon dithers about, putting off the moment when he absolutely has to offer for her, but also rapidly losing interest in his wife, now in the sickly throes of pregnancy.

But fortuitously the wife dies in childbirth, her mother, thoroughly disenchanted with her son-in-law, scarpers with the child, and Shaldon is able to pretend it never happened and offer for the neighbour’s daughter. She’s head over heels in love with him, so she accepts at once, and this should be a happy ending. But a weak man like Shaldon isn’t going to reform his character overnight, or possibly at all, so the marriage isn’t a happy one.

The main part of the book is set firmly in the Regency, and deals with the next generation. Shaldon is now the Earl of Alvington, and his son from his second marriage is now twenty-five. Various other offspring of characters from the first part are all reaching adulthood, the men sprigs of fashion on the town and enjoying their freedom, the women making their come-out in London, but with all the history from the previous generation as baggage. And history is repeating itself, for the current earl is bent on making a good match for his son with a neighbour’s daughter. But this Viscount Shaldon is not his father – he’s just as reluctant to be pushed into matrimony before he’s ready, but he’s not financially dependent on his father, having inherited an estate from a relative.

The earl is not willing to be gainsaid, however, and determines to thwart his supposed heir by finding his son from his first, secret marriage, disinheriting the son from the second marriage, and never mind what scandal may ensue. Such a nice man.

This is in essence the major plot of the second part of the book, but it’s woven through with the romantic entanglements of the younger generation. This part, taking place almost entirely in London during the season, is very much more like other Chetwynd Ley books, so don’t be put off by the protracted opening, keep going and it does conform more to expectations. I’m not going to say anything about the romances (yes, there are several) because none of them lit me on fire. I liked some of the characters, and the younger Viscount Shaldon is a far more honourable man than his father, but they all seemed a bit ordinary to me. The villains brought about their own downfall far too easily for my liking, and the resolution to the matter of the missing heir was all a bit of a damp squib in the end.

I did enjoy this, once it got going, and I applaud the author for stepping off the well-worn path and trying something a bit different. So many Regencies depend for their resonance on great secrets from the past, but this is the first book I can remember which has shown the whole of the backstory, not just a short prologue or little snippets here and there. I don’t think it’s totally successful, but it was still a solid four star read for me.

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Published on May 29, 2023 14:50

Review: The Perfect Rake by Anne Gracie (2005)

This is one of those books that could have been a five star read, but it had weaknesses that I just couldn’t get past – too much random violence, too many clichés, too much contrariness in the heroine, too much plot manipulation on the author’s part and too detached from real life in general. But oh, the hero! A confirmed rake who falls instantly for the heroine and doesn’t swerve from that for one single second – oh, yes, yes, yes! It was Gideon alone who saved this book from three-star ignominy, and near as dammit yanked it all the way up to five stars, too. Lovely, lovely Gideon.

Here’s the premise: the Merridew sisters, aged from twenty down to ten, are living with Grandpapa after their parents died. From an idyllic life of sunshine and laughter in Italy, they’re now living a miserable and reclusive existence in the English countryside, being regularly beaten for the least transgression. Yes, this is one of those tales where the villain is excessively villainous. But when Grandpapa has a fall and is laid up in bed for a while, they take the opportunity to escape to his brother, Great-uncle Oswald, a kindly soul who lives in London.

Fortuitously, he agrees to clothe them fashionably and bring them all out, but he won’t release the beautiful younger sisters onto the world until plain eldest sister Prudence is safely betrothed. Happily, Prudence is, in fact, betrothed to Phillip Otterbury, who has been in India for four years and will come back eventually to marry her, she’s sure. But she can’t tell Great-uncle Oswald about Phillip (because reasons) so she invents a betrothal to the famously reclusive Duke of Dinstable, who lives safely far away in the wilds of Scotland. But it turns out that he’s actually in town for once, and Great-uncle Oswald is determined to go and talk to him. There’s only one thing to be done – Prudence must go and talk to him first.

And then follows one of the funniest scenes I’ve ever read, when she thinks she’s meeting the duke, but it turns out to be his rakish cousin, Lord Carradice — our hero, Gideon — who rakishly falls for Prudence, and turns his rakish attention on her. And of course she can’t help responding to all that rakish charm, only partially mitigated by the inhibiting factor of the fiancé in India. So there’s a lot of kissing and unaccustomed warmth in strange places (yes, this is not a sex-free read), followed by biffing him over the head with her reticule.

And this is basically the whole of the romance part of the plot – Gideon pursues her with single-minded determination, and a degree of charm which any normal woman would find irresistible. I certainly did, and reading the reviews, I see I’m not alone. But Prudence made a solemn vow to Phillip four years ago, and carries his ring on a chain around her neck. So even though she’s drawn to Gideon, and kisses him back with equal fervour, she’s sure he’s just fooling around with her – being a rake, basically.

This is possibly the most annoying part of the whole book. Prudence, being a sensible girl and not the flighty type, really ought to make up her mind – either surrender to that rakish charm and enjoy all those deliciously rakish kisses and unexpected warmth, or else remember her solemn vow to the absent Mr Otterbury and hold herself aloof from the kisses, warmth, etc. One kiss I can allow, since she was taken by surprise, but after that, she really has to make her mind up. But she never does, berating Gideon repeatedly for forgetting about her betrothal, while giving every sign of having forgotten it herself.

Gideon, meanwhile, is slowly and almost imperceptibly melting from irredeemable rake to utterly faithful and adoring lover, who will do anything at all for his lady. It takes him a long time to realise it, but he gets there in the end, and honestly, by the point in the book where villainous Grandpapa turns up again and Gideon swears a solemn oath to protect Prudence and her sisters from him, he is absolutely irresistible, and it makes no sense to me that Prudence doesn’t simply dispense with the absent Mr Otterwhatsit instantly.

But, for tedious plot reasons, she doesn’t, and so the book veers somewhat off the rails in the later stages. There’s rather a lot of plot manipulation going on, not least that ring that Prudence always wears on a chain around her neck, except for that one convenient time when she doesn’t. And the sisters’ sojourn in Bath is replete with coincidental meetings, and some very over-the-top melodrama. It all got a bit silly.

Happily all comes right in the end, naturally. Be warned that there is a fair bit of bedroom stuff going on by this time, so if that’s not your thing, avoid. And I have to say, I wasn’t a fan of the punishment meted out to poor Mr Otterclogs (so many delicious variations on the name!) – having been on the wrong side of unwarranted violence themselves, why inflict it on anyone else? And to treat it as a joke is out of keeping with the seriousness of what was done to the sisters.

However, this is not a book that intends to take itself seriously. It’s all a bit fairytale-ish, with a cartoonishly villainous villain, a series of spectacularly beautiful heroines (apart from Prudence) and a whole heap of implausibilities. But Gideon… Gideon totally saves the book from any hint of mediocrity. He has all the best lines, all the best moves and all the emotional moments. I honestly don’t know how Prudence could resist him for as long as she did. He may (or may not) be the perfect rake, but he is certainly the perfect hero. I recommend this book for Gideon alone. Four stars.

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Published on May 29, 2023 14:44

Review: King George’s Man by Jayne Davis (2023)

Jayne Davis is one of the most reliable of the new school of historical romance authors, not because she writes the familiar themes repeatedly but precisely the opposite. She’s not afraid to step off the well-trodden paths and set her characters firmly down in unusual territory – the pre-Regency Georgian era, for one thing, far-flung parts of the British Isles for another, and the hard-working middle and lower classes. As a consequence, her books are always fascinating, and this is just the latest example.

Here’s the premise: Nell Mason has fallen on hard times. Her father’s bank failed, and when he died, she and her mother were forced to turn to her uncle, running a shady inn on the Yorkshire moors. Her mother is now dead, too, but Nell is still there, working as an unpaid skivvy in the kitchen, keeping her head down to avoid her uncle’s cruelty. She’d love to leave, but the occasional coin she gets as a tip isn’t enough to risk it, and where would she go anyway? She knows her uncle’s up to some nefarious business, but there’s not much she can do about that, either.

Into this difficult situation comes a man who could bring her a great deal of trouble. Lieutenant Toby Bourne is on leave from the army before a posting to the Colonies, and he’s recruited to investigate a highway robbery, which leads him to the lonely inn. He soon realises that Nell is not the usual lowly inn worker, and draws her into his plans. She finds herself having to take unusual risks, pitting herself against not just the highwayman but also her own uncle.

So the adventure unfolds, and to be frank, there’s a lot more adventure than romance. Toby and Nell are on good terms fairly quickly, but the drama rather overshadows the gradual development of their feelings. I can’t say the balance was wrong, because the fallout from the robbery is dramatic enough to justify the attention paid to it, but the romance was just a tad low-key for my liking. Even very late in the day, when Toby finally gets round to proposing, they’re both still uncertain about the depth of their feelings. Luckily, they’re both sensible enough to talk things through, so there are no last-minute misunderstandings. And I very much liked the pragmatic way Nell decided their future. It wasn’t the outcome I’d been expecting, but it was perfectly in keeping with their characters. And I loved the mini-epilogue right at the end, summarising a lot of history in one newspaper announcement (and complete with authentic-looking ‘s’ shaped like ‘f’ – a delightful touch!).

I haven’t said much about the adventure, because I don’t want to spoil the plot for anyone, but it’s all very nicely done. Along the way, there are people who both help and hinder Nell and Toby, whether through wickedness or silliness, but they were always fully rounded and believable characters. I actually felt sorry for Miss Delaney, the epitome of silliness, who should have been better protected by her parents, and there were some lovely side characters, like Aunt Em and the magistrate. Naturally, being Jayne Davis, there’s not a single whisper of an anachronism, and the writing is well up to her usual standard.

A lovely, lovely story about ordinary people caught up in difficult circumstances, yet always behaving with honour and dignity, and a fine, low-key romance. Five stars.

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Published on May 29, 2023 14:35

April 27, 2023

Review: Eagleton by Jenny Hambly (2023)

Jenny Hambly is one of my must-read authors, and this book was another excellent addition to her repertoire, to round off the Confirmed Bachelors series. The distinguishing characteristic of this one is the setting – most of the book is well beyond the usual run of Regency backdrops, being set on the shores of Lake Garda, and I can’t tell you how refreshing it was to be somewhere so unusual. If you’ve been to Italy it will bring back memories, and if you haven’t, you’ll be able to imagine it.

Here’s the premise: Alexander, the Marquess of Eagleton, travels to Italy with his baby daughter to reunite with a lost part of his family. Nell is escaping from her family. Both of them will have to come to terms with their past histories in order to forge a future together. And right there is my sole grumble with this book – there is a LOT of backstory to be explained. Both hero and heroine have deeply tortured pasts and even the minor characters have their own tragedies and family feuds to overcome.

It all serves to make the story a bit top heavy, and the early chapters in particular are bogged down in explanations. Sometimes it almost felt that I’d missed an earlier book (and actually part of Lord Eagleton’s may have been in Ormsley). Personally, I prefer all the history to be dripped in gently rather than as a torrent, but it does serve to underscore just why these two are so slow to trust, and why they’re liable to lash out at each other. There are a lot of missteps along the way as they snipe at each other, and then completely fail to make allowances.

But once the story gets going, it becomes compelling reading, and not just for the romance. The Italian setting is a big part of the magic of the book, especially the lake itself, the grape harvest and later the lovely city of Verona. It’s painted with an artist’s eye for detail, such as the door knockers, the amphitheatre and the odd fact that boats tend to ply the lake at night (why, I wonder?).

While some elements of the past are laid to rest with surprising ease, the last few chapters see some startling and dramatic developments which I definitely did not see coming. One thing I particularly enjoyed in this book is that several of the apparently villainous characters turned out to be far more complex that they seemed at first sight. I love it when a little twist makes the reader see a character in a completely different light. This is how people really are, not the rigid black and white so often seen in fiction.

Needless to say, everything is resolved satisfactorily at the end, and hero and heroine reach their happy ending in resounding style. This is another fine work by the author, and only the weight of all that backstory keeps it to fours stars for me.

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Published on April 27, 2023 15:13

Review: The Country Gentleman by Dinah Dean (1986)

This is another author who published Regencies back in the day, now being republished in ebook form with new covers. I’ve not encountered this author before, but I absolutely adored this book. It has a charming rural setting, a mysterious (but not too threatening) hero, a downtrodden and thoroughly deserving heroine, and a romance that builds slowly over the course of the book. And no pesky anachronisms (that I spotted).

Here’s the premise: Miss Lucinda Calvert is the daughter of her somewhat disorganised and short-sighted rector father and her ailing mother, leaving her the mainstay of the village, constantly busy about her charitable works for the poor. There are few people her own age in the village, apart from one female friend, the curate and a French emigre, so she looks set to drift into spinsterhood. But the arrival of mysterious Mr John Harris at the long neglected estate of the Pinnacles sets her life on a different course. John is charmingly attractive, and soon shows that he enjoys her company, but he’s oddly reserved about his past. He’s been abroad, but where? And when? And more to the point, why? Questions are gently deflected, but Lucinda soon discovers evidence that he’s not all he seems. Yet he’s so attractive…

The romance is lovely, and quite unusual for the era it was written in, which more usually follows the Georgette Heyer policy of wrapping the romance up with a kiss on the final page. Here Lucinda very gradually find herself falling for the hero, and although we never get John’s point of view directly, it’s obvious that he’s following the same path, firstly paying equal attention to Lucinda’s friend and then over many chapters diverting his attention solely towards Lucinda. I loved the way this was done, and of course, Lucinda is very torn because she is aware of all John’s suspicious activities too, so there’s a little tension (but not very much, it had to be said, since the resolution of the mystery was blindingly obvious almost from the first moment).

There is a minor romance for Lucinda’s friend, too, although I was a bit shocked by the speedy, not to say perfunctory, way in which the last vestige of an obstacle was swept away. To be honest, it was hard to see why there was ever an obstacle at all.

But really, one of the great attractions of this book, for me, is in the wonderful depiction of village life. It’s all in the details, like the cats, and the milk turning in the hot weather, and the lyrical description of some of the walks Lucinda went on. And I loved that the sexton doubled up as coachman and even butler for the rector’s family when required.

The ending was a little too glib (didn’t John have to at least consult his father before proposing?), but I’m not going to complain because otherwise this book was well-nigh perfect. Highly recommended. Five stars.

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Published on April 27, 2023 15:08

Review: Minta in Spite of Herself by Christina Dudley (2023)

Every Christina Dudley book is a joy to read, and this is no exception. I’ve been looking forward to Minta’s story since she first appeared in the background of her eldest sister’s story, shooting arrows with her bosom friend Aggie, and generally getting up to all sorts of hoydenish mayhem. How was she ever going to turn into a heroine? I couldn’t wait to find out.

Here’s the premise: Minta’s best friend Aggie has traitorously fallen for rakish Francis Taplin, but Minta knows he’s only looking to restore the family’s fortunes after his own expensive lifestyle has brought them perilously close to ruin. How can she save Aggie from him? She turns to Francis’s friendly stepbrother, Nicholas Carlisle, for aid. Between them, they come up with a cunning plan — Minta will turn herself into the sort of young lady that will draw Francis’s attention away from Aggie. When that fails to distract him sufficiently, they use his rivalry with Nicholas to good effect – Nicholas will pretend to court Minta. But Minta hasn’t taken into account that her efforts will look like the ultimate betrayal to Aggie, and neither of them have considered how hard it will be to maintain a pretend courtship that they’d both like to be real. Especially when they can’t tell each other the truth.

Dudley specialises in these complicated webs of deceit, but she does it so cleverly and then untangles them so elegantly that the reader can only watch in admiration. I love the humour, too, which often made me laugh out loud, especially Minta wrestling with The Bosom. And yet there are tiny vignettes that are so moving they make me want to cry. Minta’s newest stepmother, for instance, who reads the proposal letter from Nicholas to Minta, and is swept with emotion because she, for many years a spinster and then with a very pragmatic marriage of convenience, has never received anything one tenth as romantic.

Of course, everything sorts itself out in the end, and nobody does anything wildly stupid. I was rather amused by Francis’s solution to his trials, Minta and Nicholas get their happy ending, and both Tyrone and little sister Bea became more interesting in this book. I see that Tyrone is next up for a romance, and perhaps we’ll see Bea in a starring role after that.

Some quotes that caught my eye:

‘Great guns! Where did Aggie get that bosom? Has she had it all along?’

‘Minta, you look like you were drowned and then murdered.’

‘Not everything is a love story.’ ‘That only means you have not read to the end.’

A terrific book on a multitude of levels. I highly recommend it, but if you’re new to the author, start with The Naturalist and enjoy her entire repertoire. Five stars.

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Published on April 27, 2023 15:03

April 11, 2023

Waltzing Widow by Joan Smith (1991)

My second Joan Smith on the trot and I’m finding that my palate soon becomes jaded. They are very samey, and for those looking solely for the froth of a light-hearted Heyer-esque romp, this is just the ticket, but after a while I begin to long for a bit of character development. In this one, the misunderstandings all became a bit too tangled and I just wanted it all to stop.

Here’s the premise: Lucy Percy was almost taken in by a fortune hunter during the season in London. To allow herself time to recover, she and her aunt rent a cottage in the countryside. To deter unwanted suitors, Lucy pretends to be married and her widowed aunt pretends to be a spinster, and of course this is going to lead to huge problems. It so happens that the cottage is owned by a baron, Lord Bigelow, who decides that Lucy is just his sort of lady – what a pity she’s married. She instantly decides that being married is a hindrance to her ultimate objective, which is to find a husband of the non-fortune-hunting variety, so she summarily bumps off her supposed husband and makes herself a widow. Lord Bigelow is thrilled, and thinks it’s just a misunderstanding that he thought her husband was alive.

Meanwhile, Lord Bigelow’s uncle, the Earl of Avedon, is much more suspicious, and thinks Lucy is herself a fortune hunter. He’s a bit confused, because both she and the aunt are clearly well-bred, but he’s quite sure she’s a retired courtesan or actress, out to snabble a rich husband. He sets out on a campaign to get rid of Lucy and her aunt by forcing them out of the cottage. Being the principal landowner in the district, he decides to do some road ‘improvements’ around their cottage, effectively cutting them off from food supplies and company. Lucy isn’t about to surrender so tamely, however, so she and her aunt ingeniously work around the problem (and frankly, it’s hard to see how digging up the road would stop the butcher’s boy, say, from walking over the fields to deliver their leg of lamb; everybody walked everywhere in those days).

And so it goes on, the two of them fighting tooth and nail, she always having the upper hand and he, the prim and proper gentleman, finally unravelling in spectacular style. As always with Joan Smith, the romance takes a back seat to all the banter and shenanigans, and there isn’t even a particularly romantic denouement at the end. And as I mentioned before, the whole thing became tediously complicated. I eventually gave up trying to work out who knew what, and whether it was true or not. It was just too much work. Lots of fun between the complications, though, and although it wasn’t altogether to my taste, I enjoyed it well enough for four stars.

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Published on April 11, 2023 13:39