THE PORTRAIT

A young woman defiant of social conventions must quickly find a husband to preserve her mother’s aristocratic lineage in this debut 19th-century romance. 

When Lady Catherine Claverton is born, her father, the earl of Delamare, immediately despises her, incensed that she is not only a girl who cannot carry on the family name, but disabled as well. Exiled to a country estate and estranged from her father, she becomes a fiercely outspoken nonconformist despite being treated like a “weak-minded invalid.” When her father is on his deathbed, she learns an extraordinary secret: Her mother was the Countess St. Clair, a title she held before she married the earl. This was kept from Catherine for fear she would be exploited by others for the wealth and influence a marriage to her would promise. But now Catherine, just 24 years old, realizes that the title is really an earldom, which means she can continue her mother’s family line if she marries and births a son. She has only two eligible candidates: First, Sir Lyle Barrington, a passionate gentleman who is reputed to engage in nefarious business practices and may only be feigning interest in her opportunistically. And then there’s the handsome Capt. Avebury, a talented and well-heeled sailor. There’s a romantic spark between them, but unbeknown to Catherine, he’s on the run from the Admiralty, wanted for serious crimes, including murder. Meanwhile, Catherine is haunted by a past of her own—she imprudently allowed a young artist to paint a risqué portrait of her, a work he uses to threaten her for favors. Austen’s ambitious story is a vivid commentary on the rigid manners of the time. She is unabashedly inspired by her namesake Jane Austen. The protagonist is a remarkably independent woman for the period, and Catherine’s character is powerfully drawn by the author (Sir Lyle “treated her almost as if she were a young widow, not an unmarried woman. Perhaps that was a consequence of her refusal to conform to society’s expectations. She almost liked it. She certainly appreciated that he thought her smart and independent”). Unfortunately, the incessant reminders of Catherine’s autonomy finally become tediously heavy-handed. In addition, the author has none of Jane Austen’s mischievous wit—this is a well-crafted tale, but a humorlessly melodramatic one as well. 

An homage to Jane Austen written with great intelligence, but also a large measure of maudlin theatricality.