Judith A. Lansdowne

Judith Lansdowne writes more in the vein of the Baroness Orczy than of Georgette Heyer. There's politics and history, very well drawn, there's excitement and adventure; but her understanding of the social milieu of the Regency era is a little bit thinner and people tend to commit occasional social gaffes. Their sometimes too-casual way of addressing each other was something I could mostly ignore, but the thing that really bothered me was the amount of grinning. You won't see people in 19th show more century portraits showing their teeth, which doesn't prove that they didn't; but in 19th century writing, grins were usually found on the faces of skulls and hyenas -- I cannot recall an instance of a human grinning with happiness, nor find one in the Oxford English Dictionary through the 19th century. "Grin and bear it" was a phrase in use at the time, but it meant something more like setting the teeth at the time, apparently. And unfortunately "grinned" is one of Lansdowne's favourite replacements for the verb "said": it often occurs twice in two or three pages. People should be smiling, smirking, saying or remarking, but not the everlasting grinning.

Other than these quibbles, it was a pleasant book to read. I liked the portrayal of the relationship between the two brothers and the romantic story with a happy ending for the brain-damaged elder brother. I'm keeping the book on my shelf for now (under the bathroom counter is the shelf where I hide my romance paperbacks) for possible rereading. show less

Opening the book at random, I found an episode in which the protagonist's valet deferentially recommends a waistcoat with gold stars on scarlet "to impress Miss Potts" (whom he apparently dislikes as much as he does the waistcoat), and the protagonist, protesting that he does not wish ("tonight") to impress the young lady, asks which waistcoat would lend the misleading impression that the wearer was about to put a period to his existence! A very humorous, even Bunteresque, scene. The book show more appeared to be worth reading. On further perusal, it was indeed worth reading, and probably worth rereading -- a keeper! The mystery and romance elements were well-balanced and the author didn't drop any horrible clangers, at least not in the sense of egregious Americanisms or anachronisms.

However, I will say that I agree with the reviewer who deplored the "French" accents. It took me some time to realize that Eliza was supposed to be speaking with a French accent; it seemed more like a case of speech impediment caused by mental deficiency. Fortunately the French characters don't appear much, especially in the early chapters. show less

This is a charming book. How often do you read a romance in which the hero already has eight children? And they're so lively and interesting as characters, too. Thankfully, Judith Lansdowne makes it easy for us to keep them straight by having their father name them alphabetically.

The book is full of spying and intrigue. Lansdowne really is more of a Baroness Orczy type than a follower of Georgette Heyer! Never a dull moment. I'll be happy to read this again sometime.

Lansdowne excels at creating casts of estimable, interesting, mature characters involved with one another and who are often embroiled in nefarious, but clean, plots. The Mystery Kiss is true to these qualities.

From the first we are made aware that Fleur, Lady Marston, is extraordinary. She is the widow of a man who routinely abused her, but she managed to protect her step-children from their father. She earned the esteem, loyalty, and love of these now-adult children. As the story opens she show more is about to accompany her step-daughter to London for her first season.
Atticus Charles Howard, Earl of Hartshire, is also a widower but, unlike Fleur, his marriage was a very happy one until the death of his wife four years prior. He is devoted to his only child, 10-year-old Will. He is on his way to London out of concern for his brother-in-law who has apparently disappeared.

Hartshire and Fleur meet along the road where she is incapacitated with motion sickness—from which he is a fellow sufferer. His heart reaches out to her and he rescues her by giving up his own preventative cure—a pair of curious bracelets.

This story has shades of Cyrano de Bergerac in that Hartshire is very self-conscious about his appearance. You see he is enormous, 6 foot 5 inches, with outsided ears. He sets out to ease his ladylove’s entrance into London society while keeping himself shyly in the background.

Both Hartshire and Fleur are intriguing combinations of shy timidity and bold courage. The mystery which provides the vehicle for the plot is well-done, and gets tied up nicely at the end. I really like Judith Landowne’s work, and I enjoyed The Mystery Kiss. show less