This was really quirky in some ways, but it was still a lot of fun. It’s necessary to suspend all critical faculties, however, for none of it makes a great deal of sense, but if you can go with the flow, it’s highly readable.
Here’s the premise: Elyza Leigh is that staple of the Regency romance, a girl making her debut in the season who’s being pushed into marrying a worthy but deadly dull man. Rather than submit, she dresses in boys clothes and runs away (yes, we’re deep into Cliche-land here), in an attempt to get to her aunt in Bath, but after a night at an inn, her purse has been stolen and she can’t pay her shot. Happily, a random stranger comes to her aid, the fabulously wealthy Cleve Redmayne, newly returned from India, who’s hoping to make his debut in English society – and find a beauty he spotted briefly two years before. He sees Elyza as someone who can help him. She’s in society herself, so she knows everyone, doesn’t she? And since they both appear to be heading to Bath, where his lost love is also heading, he believes, they can join forces.
Now Redmayne (I refuse to call him Cleve; I’m sure that’s a typo, because the blurb has him as Clive, but no matter) is not worldly wise to the ways of England, so before long the pair, aided and abetted by Redmayne’s vast retinue, are enjoying a country fair and getting into all sorts of difficulties of the reputation-ruining variety. Along the way, they pick up bouncy Nicholas Crawfurd (another odd name) who is also ripe for any lark. Redmayne and Crawfurd aren’t in the least bothered by Elyza’s boy’s clothes, but when Colonel Hanley turns up, sent by Elyza’s London chaperone to retrieve her, they realise just what a mess she is in.
Now, Redmayne is one of those magical McGuffin characters, who is so fabulously rich and surrounded by so many efficient and willing servants, that he’s able to solve any problem. In an instant, he has devised a cunning plan to get Elyza safely back to London, reputation intact. Crawfurd and the Colonel are sworn to secrecy, and all goes according to plan. Redmayne is actually a fascinating character, because he’s supremely self-confident (and with some justification) and yet at the same time he’s quite different from the usual run of Regency heroes. There’s something off-kilter about him, his assurance mixed with over-the-top displays of wealth and a slightly wobbly grasp of social protocol. He is a little too good at everything for my taste (what can I say, I like a beta hero myself).
The plot takes a dramatic swerve here, because somehow, for reasons I missed, Elyza and crew are going to Brighton for the summer, and Redmayne is also going, abandoning his previous plan as soon as he discovers from Elyza that a certain young lady by the name of Corinna Mayfield will also be there. Redmayne saw her briefly two years before and has been passionately in love with her ever since. Now that he’s rich, he intends to sweep her off her elegantly shod feet and waft her away to the altar. The bouncy Mr Crawfurd comes along for the ride, and so what seemed to be a road trip to Bath becomes a seaside holiday, featuring an appearance by no less a personage than the Prince Regent himself. Naturally, Elyza’s deadly dull suitor, Sir Edward Mottram, is also on hand to make the dreaded proposal.
This was written in the heyday of Georgette Heyer and it’s highly influenced by her work. The wheeling out of Prinny and other historical figures, for instance, and the detailed description of the Brighton Pavilion are very Heyer, and the whole plot is infused with the sort of unlikely happenstances and fairytale events and characters that make it more of a romp than a romance. There’s a silly subplot involving a villain that Elyza deals with very badly, there’s a even sillier duel and then the inevitable kidnapping (what is it with Regencies and kidnappings?). The main romance is fairly unconvincing, but that’s par for the course for books of this age, so I won’t complain too much. It’s funny, and I can forgive a book a great deal if it makes me laugh.
The writing is fine, and my only complaint is that the book seems to have been digitised with a character reader and not properly proofread, because every once in a while there’s a word mid-sentence that makes no sense at all. Sometimes it’s possible to work out what it should be but not always. Other than that, the book is a light-hearted read, true to its vintage. Don’t expect depth or rounded characters or even a plot that makes much sense but it’s hugely fun and I enjoyed it tremendously. Five stars.
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