Shadows of the Heart

Shadows of the Heart (1996) Tracy Grant

Set in Scotland, July 1817

The third book in the series (yes, I did skip the first book on this re-read, but may read it last) is about Robert Lescaut’s cousin Paul, who is the unacknowledged bastard son of the Marquis de Ribard.

Paul manages to rescue a woman from being killed in an alley, but when he discovers who the attempted murderer was, he knows he has to flee, even though the woman wakes with no idea who she is.

Only a woman accustomed to servants would have so many tiny fastenings on the back of her dress.

There are some marvelous scenes in the story when Paul and the women were on the run, including this glimpse into the mind of one of the men chasing them.

Wilkins stared at the flock. At the other huts they’d searched, the sheep had been grazing farther afield. But the day was closing and the shepherd must have gathered them in to count. Close up, looming in the mist, the animals looked larger than Wilkins would have thought. There was something menacing about their black faces. The rams had nasty-looking horns.
…
Eager to be gone, Wilkins tramped out of the hut. The shepherd boy scowled at him. The sheep were bleating and stirring in what Wilkins thought was a menacing manner.

That just makes me giggle.

And the dialogue between Paul and Fenella is marvelous.

“Are you all right?”

“Considering I’m with child, I don’t know who I am, and I’ve been lying facedown in a flock of sheep?”

I also loved the couple who came to the rescue of Paul and Fenella.

I know how peevish you get when you haven’t dined.”

“Peevish? I’m never peevish.”

“Of course not,” Lady Margaret said, contradicting herself with practiced ease.

“That’s my coat and breeches you’re wearing,” Sir James said.

“I’m much indebted to you, sir. Your wife said you no longer wore them.”

“I don’t, eh?” Sir James patted the solid paunch round his midsection. “Well, I daresay she’s right.

Sir James and Lady Margaret are wonderful–a couple who had an arranged marriage, but are quite obviously very fond of each other–perhaps even in love. It was a lovely contrast to way the ton lived–almost looking down upon love and fidelity.

Do you have children, Somerset?”

“No. I’m not so fortunate as to be married yet.”

Sir James clapped him on the back. “No need for that to stop you.”

One of the things I like about Tracy Grant’s books are that the main character are aware (or are made aware) of how those who are not better off live.

“Did you hear what she said about her aunt not being able to pay the funeral society? They have to scrape pennies to ensure their children have a decent burial if they die.”

And I’ll note again the lovely passage, how the poor were quite matter-of-fact about death.

Throwing off Sophie’s arm, she moved to the murdered woman and lifted her hand. “Cold she’s growing.” She set the hand down carefully and passed her own over Mrs. Burden’s face, closing the staring eyes. “It’s not decent else.”

“I was afraid to touch her,” Sophie said.

“You needn’t be. She’s naught but dead now. We all come to it in the end.”

It’s a lovely story.
Rating: 8.5/10

Published by NYLA

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