1921 romance, first of Heyer's novels. Six years ago Jack Carstares
left England in disgrace, having admitted to cheating at cards. Now in
1751 he's back, and living as a highwayman, leaving the family home to
his brother even though his father has died and he's now the rightful
Earl; but meanwhile Tracy Belmanoir, the sinister Duke of Andover, has
his eyes on beautiful Diana Beauleigh…
This is famously the book that the young Georgette wrote to amuse
her brother Boris, who suffered from hæmophilia and was often weak.
What's surprising is that it's not the pastiche of Orczy and Farnol
that one might have expected; there are duels, and a desperate
ventre-à-terre ride in the dark, but even this juvenile work tries
to be more about the people and their thoughts than about their
actions.
Which means expectations are confounded at every turn. Jack Carstares
is on stage for surprisingly little of the story, while Heyer seems
more interested in his brother Richard Carstares… the one who
actually did the cheating, but Jack took the blame for it so that
Richard would be free to marry Belmanoir's sister Lavinia. Lavinia is
something close to a child in a woman's body, throwing tantrums
whenever her whims are not indulged; but Richard, for reasons that
entirely escape this reader, is still madly in love with her, and
therefore fights against the pressure of his conscience to let the
truth about the cheating be known so that Jack can return to society.
What's particularly strange about this section is that Belmanoir
himself takes the hero's part: for admittedly self-interested reasons
(he is constantly in need of money, and he and his wastrel brothers
can sponge off Richard, which wouldn't be possible if there were a
scandal with Lavinia), he sees the problems Richard and Lavinia are
having, and fixes them. If it weren't that we already know about the
kidnapping and rape (threatened, and presumably committed in the past
with other victims) he'd come over as a cynical antihero rather than
as the villain of the piece.
This isn't helped by Jack himself, and still more Diana, being
remarkably colourless; they aren't entirely stereotypes, but nor are
they particularly interesting as people, and the obstacles to their
romance are entirely practical rather than emotional ones.
Of course, everything comes to a head in a scene which makes me think
that even at this point Heyer had one eye on a stage adaptation: all
the principals end up in the same room, and everything is had out.
One slight oddity is the magistrate who provides Jack with a refuge…
because he's called Miles O'Hara, and he talks like a stage-Irishman.
Now I certainly won't claim that there were no Irishmen being
magistrates in England in the 1750s, but it seems remarkably unlikely
to pass without mention as it does here; and I find myself wondering
whether the story was originally intended not just to be read, but to
be read aloud, the accent thus providing a convenient way to
distinguish this character from the rest of the substantial cast.
Historical references are laid in fairly lightly, with some mention of
Maria
Gunning
and a passing reference to The Spectator… which is in fact a rare
factual error, since the publication by Joseph Addison and Richard
Steele had run from 1711 to 1712, and the modern magazine of the same
name would not come out until 1828.
In itself it's not a particularly impressive piece, but Heyer is at
least striving for something other than the easy imitative form, and
getting a remarkable way towards it.
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