1928 Georgian romance. As the consequences of the rebellion of '45 are
still being felt, two fugitives from the losing side set off for
London – disguised as the opposite sexes.
Which may cause the reader to think "hang on a moment": if the
authorities are searching for a young man and a young woman, and
they're presented with a young woman and a young man, surely this is
not calculated to defuse their suspicion? We're told that Prudence,
disguised as Peter Merriott, is a large woman who makes a middle-sized
man, while Robin as a small man makes a middle-sized Kate Merriott;
but even so…
Still, this is basically Shakespearean cross-dressing: it's there
because it allows a woman to move in men's society, and vice versa, in
an age when those were very separate things. Indeed, at times I
wondered when they'd each had occasion to study the other's manners;
though before the attempted revolution they've been living from
adventure to adventure with their father on the Continent, and it's
the sort of whim that might strike him as a Brilliant Idea.
Indeed, the Old Gentleman is the motivator for much of what goes on
here. In his head, he's the Master Planner, the great schemer
arranging the chessboard to his satisfaction while ensuring the pieces
think they're moving of their own will; and his self-confidence is so
supreme that he gets away with it. But having lived on the Continent
where such things are more easily arranged and escaped, will the trick
he plays in England be a scheme too far?
Well, no, of course it won't. But I am glad to see that he's often
treated as a figure of fun, rather than taken seriously; even his own
children, beneficiaries (after himself) of all this plotting, grow
weary of it, and indeed of him, both finding themselves inclined to
settle down and rest for a bit.
But first of course they have to be found partners. Robin's clearly
his father's son, establishing the character of a mysterious suitor to
appeal to his beloved's taste for adventure while gathering
information from meeting her as a female friend. Said beloved suspects
nothing until All Is Revealed at the end. But Prudence… ah, well, it's
Prudence's book more than it's anyone else's. And the sleepy-eyed
"mountain" whom they meet on the road, Sir Anthony Fanshawe, turns out
to be rather more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. (And not
averse to a bit of adventure himself, if the reason is good enough.)
All right, there's a bit of manhandling and kiss-stealing that sits
poorly to my modern sensibility, but in all one can believe in this
couple as a good match – though Sir Anthony's wish to protect his
lady, and Prudence's habit of doing things for herself, would surely
cause further conflict. (Somehow one doesn't see them sitting quietly
at home for the rest of their lives.)
Yes, there are still sword-fights and derring-do, but at this point
they feel as though they're in service to a larger plan rather than
being the most important thing in the narrative. I've enjoyed the
earlier books, but this is the first that I'd consider "prime Heyer" –
and there are many more to follow. (Though in this chronological
reading I'm skipping the ones I enjoy less; I may at some point go
back and fill them in.)
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