Cousin Kate by Georgette Heyer

Narrated by Jilly Bond

If you pick up Cousin Kate expecting to listen to one of Georgette Heyer’s trademark romantic comedies of manners, then I’m afraid you might be a little disappointed, as this book is somewhat of a departure from her usual vein.

Cousin Kate is more of a gothic mystery than a romance (although there is one), in which the orphaned Kate Malvern is taken in by her aunt, only to discover that there is perhaps more to that lady’s motives than simple generosity.

Kate is twenty-four, and at the beginning of the story has just returned to London following her dismissal from a post as governess because one of the young men in the household couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Having followed the drum for more than half her life, she has no airs or graces about her, even though she’s a well-born young lady – which is just as well because when her father died, leaving her with nothing, she had to make her own way in life. In London, she stays at the home of Sarah Nidd, her former nurse, who is outraged at Kate’s latest idea of trying to find herself work as a ladies maid, which is, in Sarah’s opinion, no occupation for a young lady of quality.

Because Kate’s father had married against the wishes of his family, he – and by extension, his family – were cast off, meaning that Kate is now very much alone in the world. But her father had a half-sister who married a baronet, and Sarah secretly writes to her, believing that the lady will be just as horrified as she at the prospect of one of her relations seeking such lowly employment. Sarah’s supposition is borne out a few days later when Lady Broome arrives, and asks Kate to come to stay at Staplewood for a few months.

Staplewood is a very grand country house, and Kate is somewhat overawed by both it and her Aunt Minerva’s incredible generosity. In fact, Lady Broome’s gifts of gowns, shawls and jewellery make Kate rather uncomfortable, ill-equipped as she is to repay such favours. The family dynamic at the house is somewhat awkward, too, as the elderly Sir Timothy Broome is frail and often confined to his rooms, and their only son, a beautiful youth of nineteen named Torquil, is spoiled and given to frequent and violent mood-swings. Lady Broome clearly rules both the roost and her son – the latter with a rod of iron against which he invariably rebels with unsatisfactory and deleterious results. Added to the immediate family are the rather mysterious Doctor Delabole, who attends both Sir Timothy and Torquil, and Sir Timothy’s nephew, Mr Philip Broome, a young man ten years Torquil’s senior who dislikes Kate on sight, believing her to be out to ensnare his cousin into marriage.

The story progresses slowly, with much use of internal monologue as Kate tries to understand how this odd family works and, later, as she becomes suspicious of her aunt’s motives, to work out just what Aunt Minerva is up to. The romance that develops between Kate and Philip almost seems like an afterthought, as it doesn’t so much develop as appear practically fully-formed not long after Philip admits that he was wrong about Kate, and starts to warn her to be careful of her aunt’s machinations. Philip is a likeable character, with an aura of quiet strength about him, but he’s not as fully-drawn as Kate or Lady Broome, or even Torquil, who may be a one-note character, but whose “note” is strongly portrayed, nonetheless. There is a pervasive but subtle atmosphere of menace about the story and one or two more shocking episodes of violence (although given this is Georgette Heyer, we’re not talking blood-and-guts shocking) which contrast strongly against that restraint.

I enjoyed the story overall, although I think it probably helped going in that I was aware I wouldn’t be listening to one of Ms Heyer’s sparkling romances. If you’ve not read or listened to any of Georgette Heyer’s books before, then this is definitely not the place to start. That said, Cousin Kate is well-written and its exploration of the way mental illness was viewed and treated among the aristocracy at this time is both fascinating and horrific, especially when it comes to Lady Broome’s plans for her son. The ending, however, is abrupt and rather odd. It’s difficult to say too much about it without spoilers, but the terrible events which take place at the end of the story, while not glossed over, are sort of left “out there” at the end, while Sir Timothy gears up for a game of piquet!

I’ve listened to one or two narrations by Jilly Bond before, and have enjoyed her performances despite one or two issues which weren’t sufficient to spoil my overall enjoyment of the audiobooks in question. The narrative is well-paced and expressively delivered, and her portrayals of Kate and Lady Broome are especially good. The brighter tones in Ms Bond’s voice lend themselves very well to the character of Kate, who is likewise “bright” – cheerful and optimistic with a long practical streak that doesn’t allow her to be downcast for long. Her portrayal of Lady Broome is the real stand-out performance in this audio – she just oozes a kind of back-handed sycophancy that fits the woman perfectly; generosity itself until she is thwarted, when she turns into a spitting cat.

Ms Bond’s performance of the male characters is generally good, although not always as successful as the females. Torquil’s speech is often given an almost guttural note which suits his youth, his impatience and the vicious streak which lurks just below the surface; and in softer moments, she gives him a wheedling, petulant note which emphasises his moodiness very well. Her interpretation of Philip, however, is where I take issue, because he sounds altogether too pompous, and not much like the warm, tender but highly competent man he is in the book. I can’t quite work out what Ms Bond does, but on lowering the pitch of her voice, she somehow “rounds-out” her tone so that I’m left with the impression of something puffed-up and portly!

Fortunately, however, in quieter, more intimate moments with Kate, this aspect of the portrayal of Philip is much less pronounced, and wasn’t enough to spoil the overall listening experience. Another minor irritant was the fact that Ms Bond continuously referred to Kate’s having a “ridicule” instead of a “reticule”.

Cousin Kate isn’t one of my favourite Heyer titles, but it’s nonetheless an accomplished take on the gothic romance wrapped up in a polished and engaging performance from Jilly Bond.

Caz

Narration: B

Book Content: B-

Steam Factor: You can listen out loud

Violence: Minimal

Genre: Historical/Gothic Romance

Publisher: Naxos AudioBooks

Cousin Kate was provided to AudioGals by Naxos AudioBooks for review.