One of Apprentice Writer's favorite novelists is Loretta Chase. This is not remarkable, as she is one of many, many readers' favorite novelists. Consequently, whenever she has a new novel out (which is not as frequently as some other authors) there is much excitement in the air, made up in equal parts of confident expectation of lovely writing, funny dialogue, memorable characters, and happy questions about how it will all mix together this time.
The latest is 'Last Night's Scandal', one in her ongoing 'Fallen Women' series, which AW rates higher than 'Almost a Lady' but lower than 'Lord Perfect', from which the two protagonists are taken. As other Chase fans have remarked: this novel doesn't quite reach the literary heights hoped for, but it's still a Chase - meaning well above average in the historical romance arena.
For AW's gentle readers, some bits that made her laugh:
(right before setting out to explore a dilapidated castle after dark)
" 'Trousers,' said Lisle grimly.
'You told me to wear something sensible,' she said. 'I should never be able to get into tight spaces in a dress.'
'You're not going into any tight spaces,' he said.
'For women, most spaces are tighter these days,' she said. 'In case you haven't noticed, our fashions are a great deal wider than they used to be. Most of my sleeves are the size of butter churns. I'm sure Great-Grandmama had an easier time getting about in hoop petticoats.'
'If you would stay put and let me do the searching, you wouldn't have to squeeze yourself into garments that were never designed to accomodate a woman's shape.'
'I see,' she said. 'You think my bottom's too big.' "
"...'If you're referring to last night, that was my nightdress,' she said.
'It looked like a shift to me.'
'You can't have seen very many, if you can't tell the difference.'
'I'm a man,' he said. 'We don't go in for the fine details of women's dress. We notice how much or how little they're wearing. I've noticed that you seem to wear very little.'
'Compared to what?' she said. 'Egyptian women? They seem to go to extremes. Either they're completely covered except for their eyes, or they're dancing about wearing a few small bells.' "
"A light knock at the door made him start. (He) opened the door.
Olivia stood before him. She was all in white, in a dressing gown with fluttery things on it, her hair tumbling about her shoulders in glorious disarray.
He pulled her inside and closed the door.
Then he changed his mind and opened the door and tried to push her out.
'Make up your mind,' she said.
'You come to a man's bedchamber dressed in your nightgown and you expect him to have a mind to make up?'
'We need to talk,' she said.
'Let me explain something to you. A girl who comes to a man's room wearing practically nothing is looking for trouble.'
'Yes,' she said.
'As long as that's settled,' he said. "
And finally,
"...' Why couldn't you stay quietly in London and write dramas for the stage?'
She began to wave her arms about. 'Why must women stay quietly? Why must we be little moons, each of us stuck in our little orbit, revolving around a planet that is some man? Why can't we be other planets? Why must we be moons?'
'Speaking astronomically,' he said, 'those other planets all orbit around the sun.' "
You go, girl!
/m
