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Contents (80)
  1. CONTENTS
  2. ACTING ON IMPULSE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. INTRODUCTION
  5. “A PROPOSAL TO CICELY”
  6. INTRODUCTION
  7. A PROPOSAL TO CICELY
  8. THE END
  9. READING “A PROPOSAL TO CICELY”
  10. “THE LITTLE LADY”
  11. INTRODUCTION
  12. THE LITTLE LADY
  13. I.
  14. II.
  15. III.
  16. THE END
  17. READING “THE LITTLE LADY”
  18. “LINCKES’ GREAT CASE”
  19. INTRODUCTION
  20. LINCKES’ GREAT CASE
  21. I.
  22. II.
  23. III.
  24. IV.
  25. V.
  26. VI.
  27. VII.
  28. THE END
  29. READING “LINCKES’ GREAT CASE”
  30. “THE BULLDOG AND THE BEAST”
  31. INTRODUCTION
  32. THE BULLDOG AND THE BEAST
  33. THE END
  34. READING “THE BULLDOG AND THE BEAST”
  35. “ACTING ON IMPULSE”
  36. INTRODUCTION
  37. ACTING ON IMPULSE
  38. I.
  39. II.
  40. III.
  41. IV.
  42. THE END
  43. READING “ACTING ON IMPULSE”
  44. “WHOSE FAULT WAS IT?”
  45. INTRODUCTION
  46. WHOSE FAULT WAS IT?
  47. THE END
  48. READING “WHOSE FAULT WAS IT?”
  49. “THE CHINESE SHAWL”
  50. INTRODUCTION
  51. CONT
  52. THE CHINESE SHAWL
  53. I.
  54. II.
  55. III.
  56. IV.
  57. V.
  58. VI.
  59. VII.
  60. VIII.
  61. THE END
  62. READING “THE CHINESE SHAWL”
  63. “THE OLD MAID”
  64. INTRODUCTION
  65. THE OLD MAID
  66. THE END
  67. READING “THE OLD MAID”
  68. “LOVE”
  69. INTRODUCTION
  70. LOVE
  71. I.
  72. II.
  73. III.
  74. THE END
  75. READING “LOVE”
  76. THE SEARCH FOR “ON SUCH A NIGHT”
  77. GEORGETTE HEYER’S BIBLIOGRAPHY
  78. FURTHER READING
  79. COMING SOON!
  80. OCTOBER 29, 2019

“No, no, no! I want to go to Venice! Oh, is it so much to ask?”

My lord straightened himself. Once again he was quiet and collected.

“No, my dear, it is not much. I will take you.”

She sprang up, her silks crumpled and her hair in disorder.

“Ah—!” She came to him, and he saw that the tears had made ugly marks on her painted cheeks. “Now I know that you love me!” She swayed towards him, and mechanically he took her in his arms. She heaved a great sigh, full of triumph. “You do care, don’t you, Henry?” she murmured, and stole her hands up to his shoulders. Her face was upturned, expectant.

He hesitated a moment, fighting his sudden repulsion. Then he bent his head and brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes, leaning on him.

“Ah!” she sighed again. “Now I know! This—is Love!”

He looked down at her, but for a fleeting instant it seemed to him that it was Mary’s face he saw, grave and steadfast, bravely smiling. He drew a deep breath.

“Ay,” he said slowly. He still looked down at her, but now he only saw a painted, sharpened face that filled him with something akin to hatred. He raised his head, looking over hers into space. His voice grew softer. “This – is indeed—Love.”

THE END

READING “LOVE”

Angst. That single word could well be this story’s title – and blurb. It’s all Scarlett O’Hara selfish histrionics and Sydney Carton “It is a far, far better thing I do” self-sacrifice and while I very much admire the skill with which Heyer somehow manages to evoke my sympathies for the cheating Lord Farquhar, I am much more interested in how she managed to make both the women in this story utterly unlikeable.

First, we have Mary. (Ha! Another Mary!) Mary is having an – at least – emotional affair with Lord Farquhar, and is on intimate enough terms with him that she calls him “Henry,” but Lord Farquhar’s troubled, coquettish wife has ensnared Mary’s impressionable brother in her toils and the only way that she can be persuaded to release him is if Henry woos her back to his side and, presumably, bed. So Mary, knowing how much Henry loves her and hates his wife, throws him to the wolves – or, she-wolf, at least – in order to save her brother from a fate that he could very easily avoid if he just didn’t hit on married women. Which you wouldn’t think would be too hard.

So Lord Farquhar (I really, really want to type Lord Farquaad every time his name comes up), after some grousing and an unsubtle suggestion of elopement and lifelong adultery, goes home and finds brother Mathew in his wife’s bedchamber, which is totally normal and everything’s fine, which we know because we’ve read about cicisbeos in a dozen Heyer novels. But our Henry makes a big deal about it and pretends he cares, tricking his long-neglected wife into thinking maybe he might care for her, and sure, she’s immature and manipulative and clearly unstable, but if you had a husband who was palpably bored and/or disgusted by you and who won’t take you to his childhood home and who also has spent at least several months demonstrably in love with another woman, might not you also be kind of a wreck? Might that not be a good reason for some sympathy?