Well. I’ve enjoyed some of Jennie Goutet’s previous works, but this one I found really lax in a number of ways. The idea was good, but the execution felt lazy, as if she hadn’t really thought too deeply about it, and was just pushing the plot along.
Here’s the premise: Lady Eugenia (Geny) Stanich is the daughter of the Earl of Goodwin. It’s a lonely life, for her mother is dead, her father is a distant figure and her young brother is away at school much of the time. She doesn’t much enjoy society life and has few friends among the ton. Her closest friend is a wealthy merchant’s daughter. Her great love is the orphanage her mother started, where she spends a great deal of her time.
John Aubyn is a bit of a rake and a ne’er-do-well, living a dissolute life until he overhears the Earl of Goodwin (Geny’s father, remember) admitting to wanting to dump some investments because he has insider knowledge that things are going pear-shaped. John feels obliged to relay this information to one of the other investors but is disbelieved and blackballed (thrown out) of the clubs and good society. He sets out to get his revenge by proving that the earl is misusing the funds of the orphanage, and gets himself employed as steward there, under an assumed name.
Now, this is a great setup. He’s masquerading as something he’s not and when he’s unmasked, as inevitably he will be, she will see him as a person unworthy of trust. And by that time, they will be well on the way to being in love. Of course they will. So the early part of the book is them developing ‘feelings’ for each other.
I have to be honest, and confess that this part rang false with me. Geny, after all, is an earl’s daughter, and John, for all his gentlemanlike appearance and manners (and I assume an educated accent, although that’s never mentioned), is a lowly employee, and one below the rank of presumed gentleman. It’s hard to believe that she would ever entertain the possibility of a match between them, even for five minutes. But not only does she do so, she encourages him at every opportunity, seeks out his company and even has no hesitation getting into a closed carriage with him without a chaperon, something that would destroy her reputation at a stroke if it became known (and no, him not being technically a ‘gentleman’ wouldn’t save her, it makes it worse, if anything).
The biggest problem with all of this is the practical one – money. How on earth does she imagine they would survive if she married him? She makes a big deal about the fact that she doesn’t need her father’s permission since she’s of age, but she knows perfectly well that he wouldn’t approve and therefore there would be no dowry forthcoming. What’s the salary for a steward at an orphanage? A hundred a year, maybe, if we’re being generous. That wouldn’t even cover the cost of her stockings and gloves. It’s madness. Yet on she goes, allowing herself to be drawn in because she can’t help herself, apparently, and nor can he. Regency restraint? Forget about it.
Of course, there’s a big explosion when everything comes out into the open, and this part of the book and the wrap-up of the romance is nicely done, and if you like sickly-sweet epilogues, you’ll be very happy.
There are some errors and oddities that tripped me up. Geny’s brother, the heir to the earldom, is given the courtesy title of Viscount Fernsby, but is inexplicably addressed throughout as Lord Caldwell. He also seems to think he’s a peer of the realm, which he won’t be until he inherits the earldom. Geny’s orphanage is also called an asylum, more usually a place for those considered to be insane. [UPDATE: in the Regency, asylum hadn’t yet acquired its later meaning as a place for the insane, and meant any kind of refuge/hospital/place for the outcasts of society.] There are a few grammatical errors, too.
Fans of Jennie will certainly enjoy this book. I did too, up to a point, but the hero and heroine were a little bit too goody-two-shoes for my taste, and John is the typical Regency rake whose dissolute ways are only briefly seen, after which he is a perfect model of rectitude. My biggest problem is the way Geny fell (quite improbably, in my view) for the hired help, without giving a moment’s thought to the practicalities of marrying a man with a negligible income. This should have been a major hurdle, which he could have overcome at the proposal stage by revealing the estate he owns, but it seems the author never even considered this point. Disappointing. So only three stars from me.
I always enjoy your reviews, Mary, but since I know you’re a stickler for historical accuracy I’ll gently disagree with you on the historical use of “asylum”. The term became much more associated with insane asylums during the Victorian period, but it was also used for several types of institutions that helped people in need of refuge, including children, from the 18th century onwards. There was a well-known asylum for female orphans set up by Sir John Fielding in London in 1758. Queen Charlotte was later a patroness. Similar institutions describing themselves as orphan asylums were established in various parts of England throughout the late 18th and 19th centuries.
(I’m with you 100 per cent with the whole courtesy title inaccuracy, though. That sort of thing really throws me out of the story when I’m reading a Regency.)
You are absolutely right. I checked the OED (which I should have done before) and it totally agrees with you. Mea culpa. I’ll correct the review, although, to be honest, it would have been more helpful if the author had used ‘orphan asylum’ or similar, instead of sometimes using asylum and sometimes orphanage. Thank you for correcting me. I’m always happy to have my mistakes pointed out.