Mary Kingswood's Blog, page 8

Review: Fair Ellen by Jayne Davis (2024)

Every book by Jayne Davis is a joy to read and this is no exception. Wonderful, well-rounded characters, a plausible plot and a writing style that’s both literate and authentic; what’s not to like?

Here’s the premise: when Ellen Barnes’ childhood friend, Duncan Grant, returns from five years in the army to manage his inherited farms, Ellen realises that both she and Duncan have grown up. She sees him now in a very different way, and perhaps, in time, he’ll start to see her differently, too? But before that can happen, he meets her beautiful cousin, Harriet, and he’s smitten. He pursues Harriet determinedly, and before too long, they’re betrothed. Ellen must learn to accept the inevitability of their marriage, even though she knows Harriet to be a spoilt and wilful girl, devoted only to herself, and not at all worthy to marry a good man like Duncan.

But an incident at a ball leads to a rupture with Harriet. Duncan can’t understand why Harriet appears to have turned against him, and enlists Ellen’s help to restore him to Harriet’s favour. Poor Ellen! Against her better judgement, she does try to help, even though she hopes Duncan will finally understand how shallow Harriet is. And even if he does, will he ever turn to Ellen instead?

Of course, readers know the answer to that. Duncan is a smart cookie, and I loved his highly original method of finding out the truth about the incident at the ball, and thus the truth of Harriet’s character. After that, it’s but a small step to appreciating Ellen’s good qualities.

This is a beautifully written story, as always with this author, and really, there’s only one thing wrong with it – it’s too short. Being novella length, certain parts of the story seemed rushed. Both Duncan’s courtship of Harriet and his realisation of Ellen’s true worth were either skipped altogether or were too fast to be entirely believable. I wasn’t convinced that Duncan could be steadfastly in love with Harriet, and then switch his affections to Ellen within a week or two, and the only reason I can accept it is because they’re such good friends to start with. I would have loved this to be a full-length book, but even so, I enjoyed it so much it’s definitely a five star read.

Review: The Lord And The Lady Astronomer by Alissa Baxter (2013)

I enjoyed this, as always with this author, but these books do become a little samey after a while. The heroine engrossed in her scientific endeavours, the hero enamoured right from the start but with misunderstandings… this was a sweet romance, but not particularly dramatic.

Here’s the premise: Abigail, the youngest of the sisters featured in this series, is interested in astronomy, so it’s a real thrill when her uncle, Lord Longmore, invites her to assist with a star chart he’s compiling. The other person assisting him is William, Viscount Rochvale, the heir to an earldom, who takes a shine to Abigail almost from their first meeting. But he can’t court her properly when they’re spending so much time watching the stars together (and at night, too!), and there’s a complication: his cousin, Gerald Burnby, appears to be courting Abigail too, and he’s a charming and handsome man with a way with the ladies. And then there’s the mysterious Roman urn that appears in the attic and is then stolen…

As always with this author’s work, I like the hero very much. Her heroes all seem to be cut from the same cloth – sensible, unostentatious men who know what they want but aren’t always articulate enough to convey that clearly to the heroine. Her heroines, likewise, are serious about their scientific pursuits, to the extent of not even considering marriage as a possibility. I confess, much as I enjoy these books, and the author’s writing is always wonderful, I would enjoy them a little more if they surprised me now and then. But that’s just me.

If I have a grumble at all about this book, it’s the usual complaint of the last in the series – a lot of loose ends to be tied up and a grand family reunion sweetened with a very large dose of sugar, which felt just a tiny bit unnecessary. But it all works as a sort of series epilogue, for those who like that sort of thing. For anyone looking for a traditional read with the addition of some historical detail, these books are highly recommended. Four stars.

Review: The Baron And The Lady Chemist by Alissa Baxter (2023)

I’m a big fan of the author, and I like that she gives her heroines unusual interests for a Regency lady, but it does tend to throw the plot onto a predictable path. Still a good read, but I’d have liked to be surprised now and then.

Here’s the premise: Dorothea (or Thea) Grantham is fascinated by chemistry, and has learnt to apply its principles to adding unusual colours to silk. Her shawls and scarves are therefore highly unusual, and much admired, but ladies aren’t supposed to get involved in serious science projects, so when it comes time to make her debut in society, she’d better keep quiet about her activities. She’s permitted to attend lectures – quite trendy for ladies as well as gentlemen – but not to show any deeper knowledge of chemistry.

Nevertheless, her work attracts attention. The items are so unusual they’re thought to be made of (illegal) imported silk, instead of good old British silk. Lord Castleroy is attracted to Thea, but he’s also deeply suspicious of her silk items, and so are a number of other people, both friendly and otherwise. So Thea’s season of frivolous society events is interlaced with more serious scientific pursuits, and a constant battle to keep her methods of colouring silk a secret.

As Lord Castleroy begins a determined courtship, Thea has another problem to contend with. Her mother died in a accident in an open carriage, which Thea witnessed, and ever since she’s been unable to ride in an open carriage. Lord Castleroy steps forward as a true hero at this point, slowly and patiently helping Thea overcome her fears so that she can at least enjoy gentle drives with admirers (mainly him, it has to be said). I particularly liked that he took his party by boat on the river rather than subject Thea to a longer drive than she was used to. How can she resist him?

But resist him she does, of course, because there wouldn’t be much of a story otherwise, and frankly, it’s such a major decision for a Regency lady that it’s a wonder so many of them rushed into matrimony they way they did (and still do, in most novels). Thea hesitates, and although she comes to realise that she loves him, an unfortunate curricle accident means that when he finally proposes, she’s too upset to answer him.

And then silliness rises up to swamp the plot, and although the hero manages to rescue the heroine from her predicament, he has a most uncharacteristic outbreak of huffiness, just to throw a last-minute spanner in the works before the now inevitable happy ending.

I’ve mentioned that I found the book a touch predictable, which doesn’t make it any less readable. The writing quality is stellar, as always, and if I’d have preferred a little less detail about chemistry and the silk industry, that’s just me. I know a lot of readers love these authentic details. A nice read, although the lack of surprises and the final silliness keep it to four stars.

Review: Jennie Kissed Me by Joan Smith (1991)

Another oddity. I’m on something of a binge of Joan Smith books just now, and almost every one has a review that says: not her best work. I’d love to know what her best work is, actually, but that aside, here’s one where I can also say: not her best work.

Here’s the premise: Jennie Robsjohn (such an odd name!) was a teacher at a seminary in Bath until she inherited a small fortune – ten thousand pounds. Enough for her to give up her job and live like a gentlewoman, and if she goes to London, perhaps she’ll meet a nice man and marry. A baronet, perhaps. But at an inn along the Bath to London road, she encounters a man in his thirties accompanied by a young girl who’s protesting volubly about being dragged here and there. Jumping immediately to the wrong conclusion, Jennie wades in to rescue the obvious victim of a rake, only to discover that the gentleman is a marquess and the girl is his rather wilful daughter.

Lord Marndale soon discovers that Jennie, with her take-no-nonsense school-marm ways, has far more effect on Lady Victoria’s behaviour than he has, so he cajoles her to his beautiful estate and persuades her to act as companion to his daughter while he flits to London for government business. Jennie’s quite willing to do so, because he’s handsome and rich and single, and a girl can always hope, can’t she? And he’s very generous and attentive to her, which might mean something or it might just mean that he’s buttering her up to keep her as Victoria’s companion, and nothing more.

And that’s really the whole plot. There are other characters thrown into the mix as potential partners for both Jennie and Lord Marndale to ensure maximum confusion between hero and heroine, and there’s Jennie’s companion, the outspoken Mrs Irvine, to stir things up, but at bottom the issue is solely about Marndale’s intentions. Romance? It’s the usual thing for a book of this age, in that absolutely nothing is said or done that’s unequivocally romantic until the last page. All Marndale’s actions can be interpreted either way, as growing love for Jennie or as a cynical attempt to keep her looking after Victoria, and as for Jennie, she never gives any indication of being in love at all, even though the whole book is written in first person from her point of view. If anything, her thoughts are purely pragmatic – that it would be a very good match for an ex-school teacher, if she could get it.

So definitely not Joan Smith’s best work, especially as the latter part of it focuses on the very modern idea of a Friday night to Monday morning ‘weekend’. Despite that, it’s very funny in places, and I enjoyed it enormously, so I’m going to give it four stars.

Review: Highcliffe House by Megan Walker (2024)

I’m not at all sure what to make of this one. It’s well written, although I strongly dislike the dual first person perspectives, but none of it really convinces me and it doesn’t quite feel Regency to me, although I can’t quite say why. Just something out of kilter.

Here’s the premise: Anna Lane detests her wealthy father’s business partner, Graham Everett. He’s always taking her father away from her, sometimes just by distracting him with business affairs and sometimes physically, leaving her alone, since her mother is dead. After she mistakenly entangles herself with the wrong man, all she wants is time alone with her father to recover, but Graham is once again there to distract him. And this time, her father sends her off with Graham to check out his latest investment while he pursues an interest elsewhere.

The new investment is in Brighton, where Graham lives, and Anna is required to live with his family in their rather shabby house. At first, she dislikes the situation intensely, but the family slowly grow on her, and the view from her window is incomparable. Despite her determination to tell her father not to invest, Anna can’t help being charmed by Brighton – the pebbly beach, the Steine, the library and the Pavilion gardens, not the mention the sea air and the vibrancy of the coast.

She’s also charmed by Graham, and here’s one area where the plausibility wobbles somewhat. In only a week, Anna goes from outright hostility to head over heels in love, and frankly, that doesn’t convince me for a moment. His feelings have been established much earlier so there’s not so much of a leap to love, but hers shift from one extreme to the other.

I confess that I don’t really get Anna. She seems too volatile to me, too willing to be hurtful just for the sake of it, and not even pretending to a surface politeness with Graham. She blames him for her father’s absences, even though her father is his own man and able to make his own decisions about how he spends his time. I found it a little odd that he needed to travel so much because of his investments, since rich men usually just handed over the money and left managers and attorneys and bankers deal with the sordid details. But apparently he travelled so much that he couldn’t even spare the two weeks a year he usually spent with Anna at Lyme.

I notice a trend in modern Regencies away from the traditional means of winning or losing a fortune (gambling, usually) towards the uncertainties of ‘investments’ (usually unspecified). Which is all very well, but authors need to be careful of having their Regency gentlemen too involved in actual work, which was a huge no-no. Yes to putting money into a venture, but no to having anything at all to do with running it. This book doesn’t do that, but all that travelling Mr Lane does comes very close. This book also steps outside the traditional boundaries by having Anna directly involved in an investment decision, another modern trend of heroines who are actively involved in more than embroidery and good works.

Here’s another oddity. Graham, we discover, comes from very humble, not to say scandalous stock, yet he’s become a trusted associate of a very wealthy and well-connected man like Mr Lane. How precisely did that work? I’m not sure that the book ever explains it satisfactorily. Graham is a little easier to understand than Anna. He’s the classical self-made man, hauling himself up by his bootstraps to a life where he and his family need never worry about money again. He talked about one more big investment which would see him succeed, but you have to wonder if he would ever truly be satisfied, or whether there would always be ‘one more investment’.

The star attraction of the book is Graham’s family, his gentle mother, his initially hostile but easily won over sister Ginny, and the delightfully outspoken and original Tabitha. And Anna, society girl that she is, manages to shed all her starchy upper-class ways and fit right in. There’s a charming moment when Graham emerges after a long evening working at his correspondence and accounts, to find Anna and the sisters practising the waltz and falling about laughing, as sisters do. It not only shows how well Anna has melted into the Everetts’ embrace, but also how alone Graham is, the only son trying hard to restore the family’s fortune’s in place of his feckless disappeared father. He seemed oddly serious and out of place at that moment.

There are quite a few moments like that scattered throughout the book where the author’s talent shines through despite things that seem odd elsewhere. Some scenes, like the outing to the pebble beach, start off by Anna and Graham being snippy with each other and end in pure fun. There there are the moments of vulnerability for both Graham (the cow) and Anna (Mr Lennox). The romance is finely drawn, despite the speed of it, and Brighton comes out of it very well.

Quibbles? I’ve mentioned my dislike of having dual points of view both in the first person (I went, I said…). I invariably get muddled as to whose perspective it is (but that’s just me; I do understand why authors and readers like that style). There were a few Americanisms and anachronisms. I had to smile at the idea of hunting elk! But one thing made me shudder: the repeated use of Ms Peale. Other characters were Miss or Mrs, so why was this one character referred to by the very modern term Ms?

Overall, this was probably not my kind of book. I’d say it was aimed at a less traditional audience, who won’t be upset by the anachronisms or the quirks of the Regency depicted here that make me uneasy. Nevertheless, I mostly enjoyed it, the romance was powerful, and I liked Graham’s family very much (especially Tabitha). So I’m going to go for four stars.

Review: Olivia by Joan Smith (1981)

Not a perfect book by any means. The heroine is not very likeable, the hero is all over the place, and the supporting characters are largely useless, but there was something about it that got under my skin, and by the end I felt deeply sorry for the heroine.

Here’s the premise: Olivia Fenwick doesn’t get on with her new stepmother, so she’s taken a year away from home to act as governess/companion to the daughter of a distant but high-ranking relation. With the daughter safely wed, she decides to continue her successful career, but this time she’ll market herself as a very superior type of governess, more a family guest than an employee, although charging a phenomenal rate for her services. She settles for a baron’s family, with two daughters, and at first everything goes swimmingly. Only Lady Synge’s brother, Lord Philmot, seems unimpressed by Olivia’s abilities, taking every opportunity to denigrate her.

But gradually things start to go wrong, and Olivia finds herself in very difficult circumstances, not entirely of her own making. I said that she’s not very likeable – she’s arrogant, intolerant, a raging snob and has no self-awareness. Even so, I did actually admire her independence of spirit and was very sorry when everything started to fall apart for her. The hero – well, he veers about from outright antagonism to a kind of heavy-duty flirtation, and sometimes it’s hard to know what to make of him. That’s not helped by the first person narration from Olivia’s point of view, so we only ever see Lord Philmot through her eyes and she’s not the most perceptive person in the world. To be honest, I was quite prepared to dislike him quite thoroughly, since he not only has a mistress in tow for the early part of the book, he tries it on with Olivia, too, and then effectively punishes her when she won’t play the game. But he can be very charming when he wants to be, and he does eventually set things right for Olivia (which he should have done, since most of her problems were his fault).

One of the interesting points in the book is the contrast between the aristocracy, who vary from selfish to outright wicked, and the middle classes. Olivia reveres the nobility, and just can’t see when they’re being horrible. Her now-married former charge, for instance, who cold-bloodedly excludes Olivia from all her social events, which Olivia sets down to forgetfulness or her new husband’s influence. Even when Olivia overhears her talking about ‘a bossy old scold’, she doesn’t for one minute imagine it’s herself being spoken of. It’s quite sad, actually.

But her middle class relations in Hans Town are a lovely, normal family who welcome Olivia with genuine friendliness, and her own family in Bath are equally lovely, setting off for London instantly when they hear what has happened to her, to make sure things are set right. And Olivia is by this time so humbled by her experiences that she finds that her stepmother is perfectly tolerable, in fact. Slightly vulgar, but good-hearted and not at all the enemy she’d imagined.

And the hero eventually becomes suitably heroic, and the book wraps up in the annoying way of books of this age with an abrupt kiss and that’s it. Anyone looking for a schmaltzy extended epilogue – sorry, not happening. This was a bit uneven, and there are a few Americanisms, but in the end I enjoyed it enough to give it four stars.

Review: To Catch A Husband by Sophia Holloway (2024)

I loved everything about this book. It felt like a much older book, one written perhaps twenty or thirty years ago, and I mean that as a very sincere compliment. Lately, I’ve almost despaired of modern Regencies, where the characters behave in modern ways with very modern sensibilities and sometimes even modern language. Sophia Holloway is one of the very few who avoids all these pitfalls.

Here’s the premise: Miss Mary Lound is twenty-five, and a spinster, being happier outdoors than in drawing rooms or ballrooms. That’s never bothered her, but now she’s in a difficult position. Her father’s debts and her brother’s unwillingness to try to repay them means that her beloved home of Tapley End has been sold, and she and her scatterbrained mother are living in near destitution in the Dower House. But the new owner, Sir Rowland Kempsey, is a pleasant man of thirty or so, and if she could catch him, Mary would be free of the threat of starvation, and mistress of Tapley End. It was worth a try…

Trouble is, Mary’s never tried to attract a man before, and she has no idea how to do it. Her early attempts are not very successful, and only serve to deter her target. If only she knew that he was attracted to open, honest and straightforward Mary just as she was. Meanwhile, her neighbour and almost-like-a-brother Sir Harry Penwood is sighing over the beautiful Madeleine Banham, and finding his own courtship troubled by smooth-talking and rakish Lord Cradley. This is the heart of the book – how exactly does one catch a husband? The beautiful Madeleine would like a gentleman who sees more to her than the exquisite exterior, while Mary would just like a man who sees her, and doesn’t veer away the instant the lovely Miss Banham appears.

This is not a particularly complex book, either in romance terms or in the plot. After a series of missteps, Mary and Sir Rowland manage to reach an accommodation that allows them to drift towards love, and Lord Cradley is seen off by his own misdeeds. Not much happens, in other words, but that doesn’t matter a bit. These characters are so real and so likeable that I was rooting for them all the way. Even the side characters, like Sir Rowland’s younger brother, Madeleine’s parents and the butterfly-minded Lady Damerham, are delightful. There was a certain amount of coincidence in how things worked out towards the end, but not so much as to be implausible.

As far as the writing goes, absolutely nothing tripped me up, not a single anachronism or Americanism, although I would have liked it if the author had used the word ‘nice’ less often. Such a bland word, surely she could have found something more interesting? Otherwise, the whole book is perfection, and I highly recommend it. Five stars.

Review: A Modest Independence by Mimi Matthews (2019)

A strange contrast with the first book in the series. That was riveting, with a fascinating premise and intriguing characters, an absolute page turner from the start. This was… well, just a little bit boring.

Here’s the premise: poor relation and companion Jenny Holloway has been given the modest independence of the title, five thousand pounds which will allow her to travel and see the world. Initially, she wants to travel to India to see if she can’t find out what really happened to the Earl of Castleton. Is he really dead? If not, whatever became of him? Solicitor Tom Finchley helps her by releasing her money and making travel arrangements. And at the last minute, he decides he can’t let her go all that way with only servants, so he goes with her himself.

And if that were all, this book would be half its length (and probably all the better for it). But Tom likes Jenny rather more than he should, and proposes that they become affectionate companions. It’s not a courtship, since neither of them wants to marry, merely an acknowledgement of an attraction between them. This is where I take issue with him, because what on earth does he expect to happen if they get close and affectionate on a long journey involving boats and trains and who knows what else? The pair fall ever deeper in love, that’s what happens, all the while knowing that there’s no prospect of marriage. Jenny plans to stay abroad indefinitely and Tom will go back to London to take up his life as a solicitor, so they have no future as a couple, and I can’t quite forgive him for behaviour that can only lead both of them to deep unhappiness.

Nevertheless, that is what he does, so the first half, at least, of the book consists of the two of them kissing and touching and getting ever closer, while angsting continuously about it. The travel itself, while obviously well researched, is not particularly interesting and the endless introspection is, frankly, dull. Things liven up a bit when they get to Delhi and start asking about Lord Castleton. The mystery part of the story unfurls pretty much as you’d expect. And then the adventure is over, Jenny and Tom leave India and head back to Egypt where Jenny is going to stay for their final separation. And finally, finally Tom does the truly heroic thing – he respects Jenny’s wishes and leaves her there to begin her new life without him, even though it breaks his heart.

I want to have a grumble here about the whole missing earl thing. The 6th Earl has been declared dead on the say so of one eye-witness in the middle of an intense battle, although his body was never found. That is apparently enough for the powers that be in London to accept, so the will is executed and the 7th Earl steps forward. Then Jenny goes off to India to (possibly) find the missing earl. And no one, at any time, ever considers the ramifications if he should happen to be alive. The new earl displaced. The dispositions of the will to be untangled. In practice, of course, no one would have accepted the earl was dead without a great deal more evidence, and a body, at the very least. So whether the earl is ever found or not, the potential ramifications should have been very much in everyone’s mind. It may seem a small point, but I can’t quite forgive it.

My other big grumble is the way the two principals behave and their endless agonising over it. I’m not not a big fan of angsty books, and this one is practically wall-to-wall angst. In every other respect the book is beautifully written, and I’m sure the research is spot on, so if you like travelogues and/or angst, you’ll love this book. For me though it was only a three star read, and a disappointment after the sharpness of the first book.

Review: The Improper Governess by Carola Dunn (1998)

A lovely old-fashioned Regency with all that entails. Yes, it has some weaknesses, like an implausible premise, a hero with a penchant for mistresses and a romance that comes to the boil only in the last paragraph, but I thoroughly enjoyed it nevertheless.

Here’s the premise: Lord Ashe is in the market for a new mistress after setting his last ladybird loose, and there’s an opera singer who’s a bit different – she do nicely. But supper with the lady makes him realise that she’s more different than he had guessed – not only young and innocent, but also caring for two younger brothers. He decides not to press her, giving her the remains of the supper for the boys and taking her home, where the boys turn out to be surprisingly well brought up. Lord Ashe is intrigued and concerned by some of the information Lissa and the boys let slip, so when his widowed sister has trouble keeping a governess for her sickly son, Ashe proposes Lissa for the job. She’s suspicious that he’s just using that as an excuse to seduce her, but when another potential seducer circles close to her, she reluctantly accepts the offer.

From here on, there aren’t too many surprises. Lissa turns out to be an excellent governess, her two brothers make good playmates for Ashe’s nephew, Colin, and Ashe behaves impeccably. It’s an odd thing, but rakes in Regencies always do behave impeccably once the story gets under way, although Ashe does at least have believable moments of still hankering after Lissa. Colin turns out to have what sounds like asthma, but a bolt for the country and Ashe’s own estate restores him to health, and the three boys enjoy a healthy outdoorsy existence.

There’s bound to be a fly in the ointment, however, and here it’s Colin’s mother, a clothes-obsessed social butterfly and her noble suitor, who let the cat out of the bag regarding Lissa’s former occupation as an opera singer (regarded as no better than a prostitute). All sorts of ructions ensue, but in the midst of the mayhem, Ashe, having long resisted looking into Lissa’s mysterious past, now sets out to discover who precisely she is. More ructions ensue, and really, he should have known better. He knew perfectly well that they were escaping from a violent home, so it would have been much better to leave well alone. Or, since he was very much in love by this point, he could have gone to Lissa and said: ‘I want to marry you, but to keep you and the boys safe, I need to know just who you are.’

But of course everything comes right in the end, without very much effort, in fact, and Ashe finally says and does the right thing. This isn’t a perfect book by any means, but then what is? But it’s very well written, with a realistically evoked Regency era and no Americanisms or anachronisms that I noticed at all, and I enjoyed it so much that I can’t give it less than five stars.

Review: Blossom Time by Joan Smith (1997)

Finally, a Joan Smith Regency I can enjoy unreservedly. I liked both hero and heroine, the side issues were interesting and there was a lovely kiss quite early on which should have ignited something, and perhaps it did, but the romance still only smouldered until the very end.

Here’s the premise: Rosalind Lovelace is twenty-four, and seemingly firmly on the shelf. Her brother is engaged, so she’ll soon be superfluous in her own home. However, some poetry she’s written has been accepted for a fancy London magazine, and the publisher wants to meet her. She’d have preferred to keep her writing secret, especially from her neighbour Lord Harwell, who would tease her unmercifully about it, but when Lord Sylvester Staunton arrives, not only is her secret revealed but it seems that she has acquired an admirer. Could this lead to a marriage offer? Lord Harwell certainly thinks so, and he realises rather belatedly that Rosalind would be the perfect wife for himself.

And so the plot unfurls in amusing style, much of it revolving around Rosalind’s brother’s vulgar and snobbish future wife. Her excesses were very entertaining, and even though the final outcome was never in any doubt, the route there was a pleasant one. I never felt that the characters were behaving oddly or were being manipulated purely to advance the plot.

I loved Lord Harwell (or Harry, as Rosalind and her brother charmingly call him), who never put a foot wrong and never became the sort of overbearing arrogant man so beloved of older Regencies. I liked Rosalind, too, pragmatically building a new life for herself when faced with a sister-in-law she couldn’t get along with. And if she seemed a bit bossy sometimes, that was inevitable given that she’d been running the household for years, and her brother had leaned on her to make all the difficult decisions. Her hopes for Lord Sylvester were rather sad, when she would much rather have stayed at home. And then, a fine ending, with all loose ends neatly tied up and Harry and Rosalind finally getting together for a repeat of that lovely kiss. A very enjoyable five stars.