These Old Shades by Georgette Heyer is supposed to be a fan favorite so I picked it up recently at a Barnes and Noble "Book Haul." Although I love most things Heyer, this one disappointed. The situations are a bit too outrageous, the reason for the old vendetta that initiates the action is too vague, and the romance is not credible to my mind. The story felt dated, and Heyer’s romances generally do a better job standing the test of time.
The Duke of Avon, Alistair, is a jaded man so wicked he has earned the nickname Satanas. Which people actually call him to his face. He has a lot of old grudges but he particularly hates the Comte de Saint-Vire. (I’m not sure exactly why. A woman maybe?) Avon is filthy rich and despises the lower classes. He recognizes his own poor behavior but excuses it because he’s a duke and can get away with anything.
While out walking one evening in Paris, he is almost bowled over by a young (nineteen-year-old) scamp. The boy is fleeing his brother who is trying to beat him for laziness. Avon buys the boy to be his page, giving the brother a jeweled pin and telling the boy he now owns him body and soul. So that’s a bit distasteful. And not really helped by the fact that the boy is ecstatic, considering Avon his savior.
Turns out that the boy, Léon, is actually a girl, Léonie. She’s the unacknowledged daughter of the Comte de Saint-Vire. The coincidence of the meeting is never explained as anything but sheer chance, though Avon does suspect the truth from the start, so at least that explains why he bought the boy/girl.
Avon constructs an elaborate scheme to get back at the Comte, using the secret daughter. Meanwhile, Léonie charms one and all with her plucky irreverence, her cute mangled English, and her extraordinary beauty. She’s innocent and wise, and she has fallen head-over-heels for Avon. Yet she believes he can’t love her back because she’s baseborn. (Not to mention far too young for him.)
Avon makes her his ward as part of his plot. He calls her "enfant", and "my child", etc., etc. She complains that all men her own age are silly – and so they seem. But Avon is forty and does treat her as a child until he realizes that he’s fallen in love with her. Even then, though she twists him around her little finger and he becomes less domineering, the relationship is lopsided and kind of icky.
Without giving away too much, there are confrontations and abductions. Avon is cool and composed come what may. Léonie is courageous and resourceful. But the characters never seemed real to me and the situations seemed like farce that never quite hit the mark as funny. (Although, admittedly, Avon’s dry reaction to his siblings’ effusiveness and his friend’s dull moralizing are often humorous.)
I’m glad to have read this because it’s been on my to-read list for a long time. But it’s not a book I’d recommend for anyone new to Heyer, because I think it could be off-putting. She’s written much better romances.
Saturday, March 16, 2019
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