Knave of Hearts

This has none of the previous book’s fast-paced originality or compelling storyline. Instead, we have a plodding narrative that builds to the first outbreaks of the French Revolution in 1789.

Some quality scenes emerge in places, though too often the first-person narrative rambles on to no great effect.

This author – under all her pseudonyms – is guilty of several annoying traits. One is repetition, another is using the passive voice, and the worst is “telling” instead of “showing”.

In many works, be it as Philippa Carr or Victoria Holt, there’s one male character who’s invariably referred to by both his names. In this case, it’s Léon Blanchard. Why she can’t use one name or the other I don’t know, but the show more continual use of both names soon grows annoying, as well as sounding unnatural at times.

Another annoying trait is the author’s lack of pinpointing time. In most of her books I’m picturing certain characters at a specific age, only to suddenly learn that someone who was twenty during the previous dozen or so pages is suddenly forty-five.

It’s worse still with child characters. For example, the character Claudine is a toddler for quite some time, therefore I had a “What the hell?” moment when – still thinking Claudine was about three – I read this:

“The children are growing up. Claudine is nearly thirteen years old.”

Thirteen! I had to pause, readjust, and digest this unexpected info. It’s a bit like forcing someone running a marathon to leap a few hurdles halfway through their run.

If the author chaptered her novels properly instead of cramming what should be ten or more chapters together as one, maybe the reader would gain a better sense of time. She seldom mentions what year we’re in, which doesn’t help matters.

Despite the above criticisms, this novel is not without merits. As mentioned, certain scenes are quality reading. Some plot lines were predictable, but more than once the author surprised me, which is a good thing. Elements in the last chapter are very good, though in places the “telling” instead of “showing” trait spoils the mood.

Of the characters, I rate Dickon as the strongest creation. He stars in the previous book, and like with that story, he adds a lot of colour to this one. He’s also more likeable in this novel.

In short, this isn’t the best in the Daughters of England series, but it’s not the worst, either. show less

The characters are as morally bankrupt (male) and/or naive (female) as always in Carr's novels, however this is one of the more enjoyable installments of the series.

Read during Spring 2003

The lovers of The Adulteress are reunited but this is the story of their daughter, Lottie. Zipporah marries Gerard and moves to France, bringing 11 year old Lottie to get her away from the influence of Dickon, who wishes to marry her to gain her estate, Eversleigh. Dickon was an unbearable brat of a child in the previous book and turns into a outwardly charming but still unbearable young and middle aged man throughout the book. Lottie adapts to her new life in France but the American and French revolutions are brewing. She marries but Dickon schemes to send her husband to fight (and die) in the American revolution. She resists his advances, even though she admits to being attracted to the little swine, but the show more final page did it in for me. She accuses him of wanting her French fortunes and, when she looses it all in the French revolution, he berates her for not seeing that he loved her and not her money, and she finally admits all. Ugh. It is hard to imagine this man will become the doting father of Jessica in The Return of the Gypsy, show less