In my post of last week, The Duke of Avon and His Descendants, I promised a review of Regency Buck, the characters from which make up part of the cast of An Infamous Army. While Regency Buck is definitely one of Heyer's Regency romances, maybe the most Regency of her Regency romances (as the title suggests), there is a mystery at the heart of the plot which if you read An Infamous Army first, or the remainder of this post, or even the previously mentioned post of last week, will be somewhat divulged. So heed this warning: if you wish to enjoy these stories without any hint of what might happen, please stop reading these comments at the end of this paragraph. Though I do not reveal the details, my mere naming of the hero removes much of the ambiguity surrounding his character, and I cannot discuss this book without naming him, for he is perfectly marvelous. Furthermore, for those familiar with Pride and Prejudice, it is easy to solve the mystery from the moment he meets our heroine. Nevertheless, for now I'll just say that the society portrayed in this book includes the pinnacle of the Ton - the Prince Regent, Almack's Patronesses, and particularly Beau Brummell are active players, not just the side figures, mentioned only in passing, they usually are in Heyer's stories. Boxing matches and cock fights are portrayed in detail, as are the Pavilion, Carlton House, and Cribb's Parlour. Readers will learn much about the blending and preservation of snuff. This is what I mean when I call Regency Buck the most Regency of Heyer's Regency romances. None of her other books that I have read portray the world of London society so vividly or in such detail. On that note, I'll say goodbye to those who fear the minor spoiler below.
Beautiful, headstrong, self-possessed, and unconventional, Miss Judith Taverner leaves her country home for London, accompanied by her younger brother, Sir Peregrine Taverner. The orphaned siblings intend to "cut a dash" with their staggeringly large fortune and confront their guardian, Lord Worth, a man they have never met, but with whom their recently deceased and long reclusive father was once friends. Their only other connection in town is an uncle, from whom their father was bitterly estranged, and his son. En route, they pass through a town where a boxing mill is taking place, and Peregrine is delighted to break the journey so he may attend. All the light vehicles in town are let out for the event, but Peregrine manages to secure a rather ramshackle gig to convey him to the event. He takes his sister for a ride in this unattractive conveyance and very nearly collides with with a highly fashionable curricle-and-four, precipitating the following encounter (for the uninitiated, a "tiger" is not a feline but a small, usually young, liveried groom):
She righted herself, aware that her bonnet was crooked, and her temper in shreds, and found that the gentleman in the curricle was sitting perfectly unmoved, easily holding his horses. As she turned to look at him he spoke, not to her, but over his shoulder to a diminutive tiger perched behind him. "Take it away, Henry, take it away," he said.
Wrath, reproach, even oaths Miss Taverner could have pardoned. The provocation was great; she herself longed to box Peregrine's ears. But this calm indifference was beyond everything. Her anger veered irrationally towards the stranger. His manner, his whole bearing, filled her with repugnance. From the first moment of setting eyes on him she knew that she disliked him. Now she had leisure to observe him more closely, and found that she disliked him no less.
As I hinted earlier, readers of Austen will instantly recognize such determined prejudice as a most promising sign of love. This exquisite gentleman is none other than Lord Worth, not the old Baronet's crony, but his son and one of my favorite heroes in Heyer. The Taverners do not learn his identity until after the arrive in London, by which time they have had several more encounters with him that have confirmed their dislike. They have also met their cousin Bernard Taverner, who has made a very favorable impression on them. Once in London and properly introduced, Lord Worth opens society's most exclusive doors to his wards, while Miss Taverner battles him on every decision made for her own benefit.
Lord Worth is a wonderful creation. Terribly highhanded, as is his right due to his general superiority in everything, the reader has no idea whether to love him or hate him. So when Peregrine has some very near dances with death, the question becomes who could benefit from his demise - his uncle, to whom the ancestral house would fall, or someone who wants to marry Judith, perhaps Lord Worth or Bernard Taverner, as she stands to inherit the bulk of the fortune if her brother dies?
This novel isn't quite as humorous as some of Heyer's other works, but the historical details are absolutely incredible. I love her depiction of Brummell, whom Miss Taverner meets at Almacks and mistakes for another member of his party:
"Do you know, Miss Taverner, you make me feel that I have been out of town longer than I realized? said the gentleman, with one of his comical looks. "When I left London for Cheveley Mr Mills was not leading Society, I assure you."
"Oh," she said, "you must not think I do not know who does that! I have had the name of Beau Brummell dinned into my ears until I am heartily sick of it! I am told that I must at all costs win his approval if I am to succeed, and I tell you frankly, sir, I have not the least notion of trying to do it!" She saw a slightly startled look in his eyes, and added defiantly: "I am sorry if he should be a friend of yours, but I have made up my mind I neither wish for his good opinion nor his acquaintance."
"You are quite safe in saying what you think of him to me," replied the gentlemen gravely. "But what has he done to earn your contempt, ma'am?"
"Well, sir, you onlu have to look at him!" said Judith., allowing her eyes to travel significantly towards the gorgeous figure at the other end of the room. "A spangled coat!" she pronounced scornfully.
His gaze followed the direction of hers. "I am in agreement with you, Miss Taverner," he said. "Though I should not myself call that thing a coat."
"Oh, and that is not all!" she said. "I am for ever hearing of his affectations and impertinences! I am all out of patience with him."
She had the impression that he was laughing at her, but when he spoke it was perfectly solemnly. "Ah, ma'am, but it is Mr Brummell's folly which is the making of him. If he did not stare duchesses out of countenance, and nod over his shoulder to princes he would be forgotten in a week. And if the world is so silly as to admire his absurdities - you and I may know better - but what does that signify?"
"Nothing, I suppose," said Judith. "But if I cannot succeed without being obliged to court his approval I had rather fail!"
"Miss Taverner," he replied, the smile dancing in his eyes again, "I prophesy that you will become the rage."
The descriptions of the royal residences are likewise marvelous, everything told with detail as dizzying as the Prince Regent's decor. For enthusiasts of the Regency period, this book is an absolute must read, and for fans of Austen, in Lord Worth you will discover the direct descendant of Mr. Darcy. More than any of her other books I have read thus far, it is in Regency Buck that Heyer's love for the period and debt to Jane Austen are most apparent.
I thoroughly enjoyed my last giveaway, in which I asked participants to share the names of Pride and Prejudice characters they would like to see receive a different fate and, for a second entry, to guess the name of the lady who Wickham pursues in my version of events. The answers were diverse, sometimes startling, and thoroughly fascinating. It was so much fun that I have decided to do a series of similar giveaways over the next few weeks, sometimes offering a copy of First Impressions, at other times different books. Each round will reveal another bit of my story line, so stay tuned if you want a sneak peak of the action. I hope all who entered the first giveaway will come back to try again and share their fascinating speculations!
This week on offer is another copy of First Impressions: A Tale of Less Pride and Prejudice. When writing the book, I had to figure out a way to neutralize certain volatile characters in order to allow events to proceed with the tranquility I desired. For some, all I had to do was redirect their attention, while others required confrontation or even removal, by one means or another. There is one particular lady whose negative actions have quite a large impact on the events of Pride and Prejudice. She also enjoys a very poor reputation amongst Austenites. In First Impressions, I strive to redeem her by helping her to develop very opposite feelings to those she has in the original story. Can you guess the name of this week's mystery lady? For an extra entry, correctly name my method of dealing with her: redirection, confrontation, or removal.
The contest is open internationally and will end at 12:00 AM EST on April 14th. Don't forget to provide an email address. I'm looking forward to reading your entries!
All engagements must be accompanied by a good deal of letter writing. News must be spread, announcements placed, lawyers consulted. Certain of these missives, according to etiquette, best come from the engaged couple themselves. Some will be a pleasure to write and quite readily attended to, while others are too much of a burden to intrude upon the happiness of newly solidified love. After a few blissful days spent basking in each other’s company, Elizabeth felt that the most onerous of these tasks best not be delayed any longer.
"Shall you ever have courage to announce to Lady Catherine what is to befall her?" questioned Elizabeth with her pert smile.
"I am more likely to want more time than courage, Elizabeth. But it ought to done, and if you will give me a sheet of paper, it shall be done directly."
"And if I had not a letter to write myself, I might sit by you and admire the evenness of your writing, as another young lady once did. But I have an aunt, too, who must not be longer neglected."
From an unwillingness to confess how much her intimacy with Mr. Darcy had been over-rated, Elizabeth had never yet answered Mrs. Gardiner's long letter; but now, having that to communicate which she knew would be most welcome, she was almost ashamed to find that her uncle and aunt had already lost three days of happiness, and immediately wrote as follows:
I would have thanked you before, my dear aunt, as I ought to have done, for your long, kind, satisfactory, detail of particulars; but to say the truth, I was too cross to write. You supposed more than really existed. But now suppose as much as you choose; give a loose to your fancy, indulge your imagination in every possible flight which the subject will afford, and unless you believe me actually married, you cannot greatly err. You must write again very soon, and praise him a great deal more than you did in your last. I thank you, again and again, for not going to the Lakes. How could I be so silly as to wish it! Your idea of the ponies is delightful. We will go round the Park every day. I am the happiest creature in the world. Perhaps other people have said so before, but not one with such justice. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh.
Mr. Darcy's letter to Lady Catherine was in a different style:
Though you have already made you feelings about this engagement perfectly well-known, I hope we can now put such hastily spoken words behind us. Do not think I haven’t berated myself with the same concerns you expressed last week. This is not a hasty decision I have made, but one long contemplated. Be assured that it is not the lady’s arts and allurements that I admire, but her strength of character, which has had ample opportunity to impress me. Miss Bennet has honored me with her acceptance of my offer. It is now my task to prove myself worthy of her affections.
Though Lady Catherine fumed upon reading these lines, she was not surprised by them, Mr. Collins having scuttled to her side the day before with tidings of the engagement. Then she had denied the report, insisting that she would hear such news from her nephew herself, hoping against hope that this letter would not come. His behavior upon being told that Elizabeth refused to comply with her demand never to enter into such an engagement had determined the matter for Lady Catherine. Angrily she had returned to Rosings, and angry she remained, never more so than now when there was no possible excuse to continue avoiding telling Anne.
“Get me Mr. Collins!” she bellowed, sending several servants into motion. Someone must feel the brunt of her rage and the Rector was her man. After all, if he had just married the impertinent lady in question, none of this would be happening.
The joy of communicating to Miss Bingley the news of Mr. Darcy’s engagement fell to Miss Bennet, the person least likely to appreciate the delight of such a task. Carefully penning what she hoped was a kind response to her soon-to-be sister’s insincere congratulations, Jane unknowingly wrote the most distressing letter Caroline Bingley had ever received. Rather than congratulating herself on never having suffered any greater tragedy than this, the marriage of a man she had presumptuously set her sights on, Miss Bingley gave in to the full force of her tragedy. It fell to Mrs. Hurst to comfort her and scold her into decorum while her husband, upon witnessing the onslaught of the hysterics, hid from the uproar at his club, very keen to be the first to share news of Darcy’s betrothal.
“I will NOT attend that wedding!” was Caroline’s muffled cry as she wept into her pillow.
“But you must! It would look so very particular if you do not! Mr. Darcy will think that you cannot bear to face him. I’m surprised you would even consider giving the Bennets the satisfaction.”
This thought brought a halt to the rhythmic sobs. “I care not. I’ll plead the headache.”
“A likely story indeed. Besides, think of the Pemberley connection! You and Miss Eliza are already on poor terms. If you wish to maintain the relationship, I suggest you start making amends!”
As Louisa continued to recite the many good reasons not to slight the future Mistress of Pemberley, Caroline reflected on her entire acquaintance with Mr. Darcy. She remembered the first time he accompanied her brother home on holiday and the delight of being invited to Pemberley, then Pemberley itself. Sweet Pemberley! The tears again began to overwhelm her when her sister’s words intruded upon her musings.
“ …and Georgiana will have her season soon. You are in a position to establish yourself as a member of their family party – think of the doors which will open to you! You had best forget every thought you ever had of Mr. Darcy and set your mind to finding a husband. You are not getting any younger, as I need not remind you, …”
“No, she really needn’t,” thought Caroline. “Of course, Louisa is correct. Elizabeth and Darcy will not enjoy constantly escorting Georgiana, especially as it is unlikely the new Mrs. Darcy will be welcomed into society with open arms.” Miss Bingley knew very well those protective, invisible walls that the Ton enveloped itself in, penetrable only by bloodline, having felt first hand the sting of being regarded only a visitor within their sanctum. The notion of Elizabeth Bennet impacted with the full force of society’s scrutiny brought some solace. Nonetheless, only the most eligible men would be presented to Miss Darcy. There certainly was much to be gained in maintaining the acquaintance and little profit, but in self-regard, in breaking it.
Louisa paused in her lecture, either to catch her breath or due to the look of resignation that had spread over Caroline’s now calm mien, “Have I gotten through to you, sister?”
There was a pause before Miss Bingley responded collectedly, “Thoroughly. I will write to Georgiana with my congratulations and to invite her to stay at Netherfield whenever this monstrosity of a wedding takes place.”
“You forget it will not fall to you to invite Miss Darcy, as it is likely Charles will be married before her brother.”
Caroline scowled, but no more tears threatened. Louisa smiled and departed from her sister’s chambers.
This news which sent Miss Bingley into such disorder had much the opposite effect upon Georgiana. Indeed, the joy which Miss Darcy expressed on receiving similar information was as sincere as her brother's in sending it. Writing to his dear sister was no onerous task for Mr. Darcy; only one of those rare errors of the postal service could be blamed for the sister of the groom not being one of the very first notified of the impending marriage. Four sides of paper were insufficient to contain Georgiana’s delight, and all her earnest desire of being loved by her sister. Sadly, her happiness was soon tampered, as she received less pleasant communications from first her aunt, Lady Catherine, who made no secret of her disapprobation for Elizabeth Bennet, and then this from Caroline Bingley:
Words cannot do justice to my feelings upon learning of the impending marriage between your brother and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Please express to Mr. Darcy my sincerest congratulations on his engagement in your next letter. My particular delight in his choice stems from the closer relationship which we shall share, my dear friend, when my brother is married to Jane Bennet. Two best friends marrying two sisters – what could be more charming?
Once a wedding date has been set, please consider joining the Hursts and myself when we travel to Hertfordshire. Your companionship will enliven the journey and you are, of course, most welcome to stay at Netherfield as long as the celebrations keep you in the area. I fancy the accommodations at Longbourn would be a bit trying for one of your refined sensibilities, and as your brother will, of course, be in residence at Netherfield, I quite feel as if you belong to our family party. The future Mrs. Bingley will not mind my taking the liberty of extending this invitation, as she is kindest sister for whom one could wish and quite devoted to my happiness, which will most certainly be secured by your companionship.
Georgiana knew Miss Bingley well enough to perceive her standard insincerity in these words (except for the first line, which she could readily believe). Long had Caroline tried in vain to attract Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana had born witness to some of her most humiliating attempts. She had hoped that with the end of Darcy’s eligibility, so too would end Miss Bingley’s attentions, but it seemed that was not to be. Clearly, Caroline was determined to continue inflicting her presence on the Darcys. Not amused, Georgiana responded thusly:
Please accept my congratulation upon your brother’s approaching nuptials. It is natural that you feel your good fortune in securing Jane Bennet as a member of your family, for I hear she is the sweetest and loveliest of ladies. It is very gratifying that Mr. Bingley, one of the kindest brother’s I know (indeed, I often feel as if he is my own), should find his equal in his wife.
Your felicitations are most welcome, and I will happily avail myself of your offer to journey together. It will provide Mrs. Annesley with the ability to use my brother’s marriage as an opportunity to visit her sister, without my having to ask Fitzwilliam to part from Miss Bennet. I would hate to intrude upon their time together, and your kind invitation provides a most welcome solution to the problem. As for where I shall reside while in Hertfordshire, I appreciate your kind offer upon the future Mrs. Bingley’s behalf, but I have already accepted Miss Elizabeth’s invitation to stay at Longbourn. I trust my sensibilities shall somehow bear the affront.
As for Lady Catherine’s letter, she fed it to the fire.
“Mrs. Collins! Mrs. Collins!” cried her husband as he ran into the parsonage, flushed and breathless, and stumbled into the parlor.
“Yes, Mr. Collins?” Charlotte inquired, setting aside her work and rising.
“Lady Catherine,” he panted, “Lady Catherine has received tidings from Mr. Darcy!” Mr. Collins collapsed in a chair, pulled out his handkerchief, and dabbed at his brow.
Charlotte remained calm, “Has she finally accepted his engagement?”
“Accepted perhaps, but she holds me entirely to blame! I know not what to do. She is my patroness, to her graciousness we owe our good fortune, but I do not know how to make amends for not marrying one of the Bennets as she instructed me! One cannot undo a marriage! It is a delicate situation,” he said, suddenly aware of the indelicacy of his statement, “but the truth cannot be altered, my dear. By not sacrificing your most felicitous company in favor of Cousin Elizabeth’s, I have irreparably harmed the jewel that is Miss De Bourgh!”
Charlotte did not remind her husband that Elizabeth had rejected him, nor did she comment on the probability of Mr. Darcy ever having had any intention of marrying his sickly cousin. She also did not reveal her glee in her friend’s victory over the lady whose indomitable spirit ruled her life, a sense of triumph she was only ever to experience vicariously. Instead she moved to Mr. Collins’ side, took his hand, and began to sooth him thusly: “But you cannot be held in any way to blame, Mr. Collins! You and I have often discussed the attentions Mr. Darcy paid to Eliza from the earliest moments of their acquaintance. Why, you noted their dance at the Netherfield ball yourself! Mr. Darcy is his own man. The Master of Pemberley will do as he wishes; you are not responsible for any part of the matter.”
He patted her hand thankfully, “Yes, indeed, my dear. I knew you could be relied upon to see my perspective, yet such sound reasoning will not, I fear, induce Lady Catherine to forgive me for this unhappy state of affairs. It seems I must bear the responsibility.”
“Lady Catherine is unjust. She abuses you in her nephews place.”
“Oh no, my dear, you must not say so! She certainly did suggest that I marry the lady, and indeed I did not comply.”
“But you could not, Mr. Collins.”
“True, Mrs. Collins. It was not long after my arrival at Longbourn that I knew my partner in life was not to be found within its walls.”
“Which renders Lady Catherine’s criticism of you nothing but spleen.”
“Perhaps the honorable Lady is a bit chagrined at the moment. After all, when one is so often infallible, to have misconceived anything, let alone one’s daughter’s marriage, must be deeply disturbing. We will make her excuses for her and hope her anger soon abates.” Mr. Collins felt much recovered from his fright at Lady Catherine’s diatribe and subsequent flight home. Busy as he was relishing the comforts of his house and wife, who was now serving tea, he did not hear the lady’s next question.
“Perhaps it would be best to let the fires cool at Lucas Lodge?”
“Yes, my dear?” he responded, his thoughts consumed by a tart.
“There now! I knew you would see the benefit of such a course. Indeed, is not a removal from Hunsford, at least for a few weeks, ideal at such a moment?”
To that Mr. Collins attended. “Remove from Hunsford? Oh no, that would not do at all. Indeed, Lady Catherine would perceive it as the greatest insult: as cowardice, on my part. If we left, who is to say she would not ask the bishop to relocate me, when I am not here to plead my cause?” As the subject threw Mr. Collins back into a state of distress, it was promptly dropped and not resumed, even when Charlotte’s desire to be in Hertfordshire increased upon receiving a letter announcing Elizabeth’s happiness. Fortunately, Mr. Collins received Mr. Bennet’s note on the same day.
“You know, my dear, perhaps it would be best to relieve Lady Catherine of my presence, at least while it continues to vex her. We could visit your parents and wish both happy couples our congratulations in person.”
“I think it a splendid idea, Mr. Collins.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Collins. I have been known to have one or two, if I may say so myself. I will make the arrangements directly.”
The Classics Circuit posted their Heyer tour retrospective yesterday, and I thought I would use the opportunity to comment on a few more of the books I have already read (I discussed several of the Regency romances reviewed here). Please forgive the imprecision of some of my references, but we are in the process of moving and my husband (with good, if mistaken, intentions) already packed these books. Today's topic is Justin Alastair, the Duke of Avon, hero of These Old Shades. The story tells how he meets his brash, volatile, and totally charming Parisian wife Leonie, thereby unleashing a race of miscreants upon polite society. We are in a world quite remote from Austen's: a world of French aristocrats, villainous morality, and cross dressing. The period is sometime in the early 18th century (I think) and Alastair (known by Satanas, for good reason) is walking down the dark, unsavory streets of Paris, as if he hadn't a care in the world, when he is suddenly plunged into by a young boy, whom he first expects is a thief, running for his life. His pursuer isn't far behind and proves to be his older brother. On a lark, the Justin buys the child from his sibling and makes him his page. Thus begins a tale of intrigue, mystery, deception, and wild good fun.
In every archaic sense of the word, Alastair and Leonie are a most exceptional characters. Despite their impeccable blood lines, I can assure you that Lady Catherine, as well as every other matron in Austen, would be seriously displeased with their behavior. Nonetheless, they are thoroughly charming and must be adored, especially Leonie. One of Heyer's great strengths is taking characters who you want to not like and forcing you to do so, regardless of any intentions otherwise. Indeed, it is the desire for more of this remarkable couple that made me instantly seek out both Devil's Cub and An Infamous Army upon completing These Old Shades. The first is the story of their son, the second of their great-granddaughter. Neither enthralled me like These Old Shades, but both have their merits. Read The Classics Circuit review of These Old Shades at Musings.
Devil's Cub (so aptly named) is a frolicking story about the abduction of the wrong lady who, of course, turns out to be exactly the right wife. Dominic Alastair, the Marquis Vidal, is just as rash and reckless as his father, though sadly not as indomitable. For him, shooting a man and being forced to flee to the continent is an everyday adventure, so it takes a rather extraordinary lady to pierce his heart, as Mary Challoner almost literally does. I'll say no more, but for a very approving review of this book and a comparison between it and These Old Shades, please read The Classics Circuit review of both at The Adventures of an intrepid Reader. Michelle's Masterful Musings found Devil's Cub less impressive.
Unfortunately, no one reviewed An Infamous Army on The Classics Circuit tour, a story which brings together three delectable topics: Lady Barbara Childe, the grand-daughter of Dominic and Mary, Colonel Audley, the brother of Lord Worth of Regency Buck (which I will get to in a moment), and Waterloo. According to one Amazon editorial, An Infamous Army "must be the most accurately researched and detailed battle description that has ever appeared in a book of romantic fiction." It would be rediculously presumptuous of me to attempt to properly review it without a copy of the text on hand, especially after having read it more than a month ago. It is unlike any other of the Heyer novels I have read: epic in scope, almost entirely consumed with scenes of battles rather than ballrooms, and there is this curious background character,Wellington, who orchestrates the whole while remaining enigmatic, much in the manner of a mythic hero. I much preferred this story to Devil's Cub, mostly because it bring back two favorite characters, Lord and Lady Worth (formerly Judith Taverner), who hold more interest for me than Justin and Leonie's descendants (from who I expected much more). No one reviewed Regency Buck for The Classics Circuit either, so I will have to make a point of doing so at some point once we have moved and unpacked the books, as it is an excellent Regency romance.
These Old Shades, Devil's Cub, and An Infamous Army can't really be viewed as a trilogy,for one is a mystery, the second strictly a romance, and the third a military history, but it is delightful to read them altogether. I would definitely recommend reading the first two and Regency Buck before embarking on An Infamous Army. I would also, depending on your fluency at French, keep a French-English dictionary or a translator handy, as there is a lot of it, especially in These Old Shades. Ne parlez pas Francais? Don't be intimidated. Like all Heyer books, you wont be missing anything overly deep and meaningful if you choose not take the time to do the translations. Just sit back and enjoy the ride. You are in very good hands.
Thanks to all who entered the giveaway! I had a wonderful time reading all your comments, laughing a great deal. I had thought only one or two ladies were possibilities for "Wickham's Mystery Lady", as she has been dubbed, and you all proved to me how very narrow minded I was. Fourteen people entered, and the answers were all over the place. Charlotte Lucas was by far the character whose fate most of you would like to change with five votes, followed by Mary Bennet with three. As for "Wickham's Mystery Lady", only two people guessed correctly and as neither of them won, we can assume the extra entry provided no great advantage. The winner, with great ambitions to save Miss Anne De Bourgh from the wretchedness of life at Rosing, is:
yarden
Congratulations! I hope you enjoy the book every bit as much as you expect to! I will contact you via email.
Lucas Lodge is where most of you guessed Wickham would set his sights, both Charlotte and Maria receiving three votes each. While I appreciated your reasoning, I am relieved to have spared these ladies such a fate, reserving it for a far more deserving woman. For those who would like a taste of what is to come (that's my version of a spoiler alert), I invite you to join me for a morning call at the impressive estate adjacent to Longbourn ...
At Netherfield a distracted Caroline Bingley paced the floors, feeling most put out by a second consecutive day of Darcy absenting himself in favor of the company at Longbourn. Occasionally she would stop to strum on the keys of the pianoforte discordantly, eventually causing her sister to flee from the room. Following one of these impromptu musical interludes, having shut the instrument with a snap of disgust, the butler interrupted her with the announcement that there was a visitor for Mr. Darcy. Upon learning he was not at home, the gentleman had insisted on waiting. The butler handed Miss Bingley a newly printed, elegant card, baring a name she did not recognize. The distraction was welcome and she ordered the man shown in. Pasting a more pleasant look upon her face, she picked up her neglected work and awaited the gentleman's arrival.
Immaculate in his new uniform – boots shining, buttons gleaming – the newly made Lieutenant Wickham was a pleasing vision to Caroline's refined eye, as she was to his. At the moment of his entry, even Miss Bingley could find some merit in Kitty and Lydia Bennet's intense admiration for a red coat. He bowed in a most gentlemanly manner and introduced himself, excusing his intrusion while emphasizing the urgency of his need to see Mr. Darcy. Miss Bingley invited him to sit down before replying, “I am afraid my brother and our guest may not return for several hours. Perhaps I may convey a message on your behalf?”
She watched the handsome face fall before he stood and walked to the window, staring out of it in the same brooding manner she had so often observed in Darcy. “Who is this militia man?” she wondered. “Why would such a gentleman not seek a commission in the regulars? And what is his relationship to Mr. Darcy?”
He moved from the window and returned to his prior seat, bestowing a sad smile on his hostess, “I am afraid, Miss Bingley, that the delicacies of my business with Mr. Darcy cannot be easily expressed in a mere message. But surely, as you presently reside in the same home, you must know Mr. Darcy rather intimately – dare I impose upon you with my troubles?”
“Yes indeed sir. Dare away!” she thought, always eager to learn more about Mr. Darcy, through whatever means. Her audible response, however, was more subtle, “I am always happy to oblige my friends, Mr. Wickham. You pose no imposition.”
“Thank you, Miss Bingley. You are graciousness itself.” He paused before continuing, taking a moment to gage the effect of his words. “I gather by my admittance here today that you know something of the particular manner of my intimacy with the Darcy family?” he said with an appearance of perfect honesty though he knew it was most unlikely that Darcy would ever speak of him. He was also armed with a great deal of information regarding the inhabitants of Netherfield, which he had been scrupulously garnering since he encountered Darcy in Meryton.
“I assure you sir. I have never heard your name before this very hour.”
“Surely I never thought you would ask me in had you not previously heard my name! Mr. Darcy never speaks of me?”
“At least not to me, sir.” The indignation in her tone was not lost on Wickham, who rose again and began to pace the room as if deep in thought. Caroline's mind raced to conclusions as she impatiently waited for him to proceed. An intimate relationship with the Darcy's! Whatever could it be?
When he felt he had adequately built up her suspense, he turned to her with his most endearingly pathetic look, “Please excuse my unforgivable distraction, but I am most saddened. I should depart at once, having already taken up too much of your time. My sorry story would only cause you to lose whatever good opinion of me you may have already formed.”
It was too much for her to bear. “Please Mr. Wickham! Obviously you have something of great import on your mind. Again I offer you my services in communicating with Mr. Darcy. We have known each other for many years as he is a great friend to my brother. I assure you I will be totally discreet.” His face momentarily brightened before falling again, noting with satisfaction Miss Bingley's corresponding expressions.
“Forgive me, Miss Bingley,” he said tenderly. “In your kindness you have offered your ear to my tale of woe and it is simply too tempting to tell all. You cannot know how badly I want to oblige you, but how can I? And yet, my avenues of hope are so small, I have so few options, how can I refuse?” He paused ponderously. “Very well then. Perhaps you are the very person to offer advice on how to proceed.”
“I will do my best,” she readily assured him.
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “You see my father was the steward to all the Pemberley estates, underneath the late Mr. Darcy, the best man I ever knew.” Caroline's face, despite her ardent effort, betrayed her dismay.
“You wonder how a man educated as myself can be the son of a servant?” She bowed her head and blushed in reply. “I was raised at Pemberley, side by side with Fitz – I mean, Mr. Darcy. His father was a generous man and provided for me amply. As my godfather,” Godfather! “he oversaw my education, preparing me for a future in the church. Have you ever been to Pemberley Miss Bingley?”
“Yes, indeed I have. It is a magnificent estate,” she replied collectedly, though Wickham could perceive the tinge of longing.
“Then perhaps you are familiar with the small village of Kympton nearby?”
“Yes I am. I believed we dined with the rector during our visit. A Mr. Westover, if I recall.”
Again turmoil swept over Wickham's malleable face and he paced once or twice more before saying, with great feeling, “That is the very living that the elder Mr. Darcy intended for me!”
Caroline was shocked, “How can this be? Surely Mr. Darcy would not disregard his father's will?”
“There was an informality in the terms of the bequest and Darcy chose to doubt it – to treat it as a conditional recommendation. Certain it is, that the living became vacant two years ago and that it was given to another man, presumably the one you dined with.”
“Dear me how dreadful! I should not think it of Mr. Darcy.” Suspiciously, “What could have caused such a massive falling out between two childhood companions?”
“I am afraid, Miss Bingley, that it is a very delicate matter. What indeed could cause the best friend of my youth to cast me off so decidedly, without explanation, without remorse? I have a theory of what lies at the bottom of this misunderstanding but I am afraid it involves a lady's honor, so I dare not mention it lightly. This is why I so wished to speak to Darcy. You will reassure me, kind Miss Bingley, of your absolute secrecy?”
Please visit Maria Grazia's Fly High, where I was interviewed as part of her "My Blogger Buddies" series! I reveal some embarrassing personal information and you can enter a giveaway to win a copy of First Impressions by leaving a comment before April 12th. This is the first time I've ever been interviewed (except for jobs), so it has been very exciting for me. It was also nice to speak about something other than Austen for once. Did I just say that?! Not too nice, I assure you! Anyway, Fly High is one of my very favorite blogs. Maria Grazia's post are amazingly thorough and cover an impressive range of information, from her favorite Richard Armitage to Sylvia Plath, all with a good deal of Austen mixed in! Please do check it out.
Maria Grazia has another delightful blog I only recently discovered: My Jane Austen Book Club! Check out the video she made for their meeting on Pride & Prejudice, in which she shows Darcy's first proposal as portrayed by each film adaptation, in chronological order.
I have never read any of the "cozy" mysteries Hazel Holt is famous for, but I had to be intrigued by My Dear Charlotte, written "with the assistance of Jane Austen's letters." An epistolary novel told via the pen of Miss Elinor Cowper (writing to her sister Charlotte), Ms. Holt weaves a murder mystery and a romance amongst details of the daily lives of the fictional residence of Lyme Regis (approx. 1815), frequently quoting Austen's letters along the way. Academically, the concept is masterful. As a source of entertainment, the book falls kind of short.
I have read are Austen's letters more than once, though not recently. I find it unnecessary to do so as I am often revisiting their content in other sources, like in David Nokes' biography, Jane Austen: A Life. Yes, Austen's life is fascinating, and I am eternally thankful for each scrap of paper we have written by her hand, but I don't find her letters particularly rereadable, not nearly to the degree of her novels. Her voice is fascinating to analyze, but her material is mostly gossip and trivialities. I hate to say that, but it is true. So when Ms. Holt based her mystery in those trivialities, she sacrificed the intrigue that keeps a reader turning the page. It took me a week to read this book, always in fits and starts. It was very pleasant when I picked it up but far too easily put back down.
Despite the introduction's claims that all will enjoy this book, be they mystery readers or Austen fans, those who have studied the letters or those who know nothing of them, the only people I would recommend this book to are either Austenites (on the geekier side of that spectrum) or those with an interest in 19th century housekeeping. The romance is predictable, the hero uninspiring, and the mystery is not satisfactorily concluded. However, while it may not be "excessively diverting", it is often fairly so, and the exercise of picking Austen's words from Ms. Holt's - no easy task, as she does a remarkable job of capturing Austen's tone - is quite enjoyable. For example, the following passage is riddled with Austen. While the rather random characters her words are manipulated to accommodate mean little to the reader, spotting Jane amongst them thoroughly amuses:
Since you will wish to know, I wore my checkered muslin with a band of the same round my head and I danced with Captain Tilson and Mr Cooke, when Miss West had done with him. He is a quiet young man who fancies himself a poet. And, since his mind was obviously elsewhere when dancing with me, he was probably composing verses to Miss West's beauty.
There was the same kind of supper as last time and the same want of chairs.
I am glad that our aunt's friends the Mortons have engaged themselves to take you about when she attends upon our uncle. From what you say, they sound most agreeable people. They were lucky to secure seats for Drury Lane, and in a front box, too, since, as you say, there is such a rage for seeing Kean. I greatly envy you seeing his Shylock.
Dame Bushell washes for us one week more, after which time John Stevens' wife undertakes our purification. She does not look as if anything she touched would ever be clean, but who know?
You say that black gauze cloaks are much worn. Do you intend to purchase one to wear at the theatre?
Your envious but affectionate sister,
E.C.
Most of the book is much like this: Austen's letters worked into a narrative that has little to do, until rather far into the story, with the murder mystery at hand. The most exciting things that happen, other than the murder itself, of course, is that the store cupboard floods and the chimney requires repair (events that should also have a familiar ring).
There are illusions to Austen beyond her letters in the book. One of my favorite aspects is the background presence of a third Cowper sister, a married lady named Mary, whose name and character are awfully familiar. She is usually mentioned only as an aside at the end of Elinor's letters, as in these two incidences:
Mary complains that it is many weeks since she heard from you but says you are doubtless so immersed in the pleasures of Bath that you have no time to write, although she did tell you in her last that she has had one of her bad throats this last month or more and, as we are aware, her throats are always worse than anyone's. However, I remain your affectionate sister,
E.C.
We also heard from Mary today and she begs me to inquire of you whether they sell cloths for pelisses at Bedford House, and if they do, will be very much obliged to you to desire them to send her down patterns with width and prices; they may go any day of the week from Charing Cross. Why she could not write to you herself about this matter I do not know, though, of course, I am always interested in her new purchases!
I greatly enjoy the exquisite weather we are having and selfishly hope we are to have it last till Christmas - nice, unwholesome, unseasonable, relaxing, close, muggy weather.
Your affectionately,
E.C.
Other characters also resemble Austen's creations: the mild, elderly gentleman whose family is at the center of the murder is almost a precise replica of Mr. Woodhouse (imagine his distress!) and Mrs. Cowper is a somewhat milder version of Mrs. Bennet. I like how this passage illustrates the latter's matchmaking propensities:
We heard yesterday from Frank whose complaints about the tediousness of the business in Vienna seem to have been modified somewhat by the presence of a Miss Forsyth. He was introduced to her at a formal dinner and then encountered her at a ball a few days later and seems to have been greatly struck by her wit and beauty. It would seem that she will be in Vienna for some time since her father, Sir Stuart Forsyth, is on a mission there and has had the forethought to bring his wife and daughter with him. As you may imagine, our mother is in raptures and can scarcely talk of anything else and is extremely annoyed with Frank for not providing the many and more particular details she wishes for. Poor Miss Forsyth, she little knows what expectations she has raised!
Your affectionate sister,
E.C.
But of course, the best character in the story is she who speaks with Austen's tongue, Elinor Cowper. One last quote (I promise!) just because it is my very favorite from the book:
Since Sir Edward's boys are to come tomorrow I have been searching the schoolroom for Frank's 'collection' and have discovered many other treasures while I was about it. That ivory pen, curiously carved, that we fell out about ten years ago found itself at the back of a drawer of the old dresser in the corner, along with a shrivelled skeleton of some small creature, which I presume to be one of William's specimens. I will include the latter, since boys are interested in such things. The pen, however, I will claim for myself, since, you will recall, it was originally a present to me from old Mrs Woodward and not to you as you claimed at the time. I do not wish to open old quarrels but I think, with the passing of time and with mature reflection, you will admit the justice of my cause.
Isn't she delightful? There is so much in this book to parse and analyze, and it can be great fun, but that doesn't make the overall narrative successful. A fascinating academic exercise it certainly is, but how often does such a thing translate into riveting reading material? Rarely. I had much more fun scanning back through the book to write this review than I had actually reading it. Nevertheless, for the hardcore Janeite - especially, I suspect, those with a distaste for fan fiction - this book induces a comfortable sense of contentment: the kind we feel when reunited with an old friend.
