Publication
Brilliance Audio (2014)
Original publication date
1961
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Can the wrong bride become the perfect wife? Adam Deveril, the new Viscount Lynton, is madly in love with the beautiful Julia Oversley. But he has returned from the Peninsular War to find his family on the brink of ruin and his ancestral home mortgaged to the hilt. He has little choice when he is introduced to Mr. Jonathan Chawleigh, a City man of apparently unlimited wealth and no social ambitions for himself-but with his eyes firmly fixed on a suitable match for his only daughter, the quiet and decidedly plain Jenny Chawleigh.
User reviews
LibraryThing member justchris
Oh so long ago to pass a Friday night I picked up A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer. I thought that I had exhausted the Heyer possibilities at my local library branch, having combed the shelves as well as the paperback carrels several times. But I forgot the large-print section until recently,
I don't think this was one that I read in my youth, though I am pretty sure that I would not have cared for it back then. This is a very atypical romance novel. It is not one of those farces where one or both parties are in denial and fail to recognize that love and attraction may be driving their conflicts. It is not the story of two people meeting and falling in love and finally managing to get engaged by the end. And unlike most romances, there is never a point where the heroine declares her feelings either to herself or anyone else directly. There are no villains here, but there is a love triangle or quadrangle.
Instead, this is the story of a storybook romance that crashes on the shoals of real world difficulties. Our hero falls in love with the girl of his dreams when he is on leave from the Peninsular campaign to recover from his wounds. She is the epitome of the high society damsel--beautiful, rich, romantic, not very practical, full of feminine accomplishments like playing the piano, and all exquisite sensibility (in modern terms, a drama queen). However, the story opens when he inherits the family estate and, more importantly, deep debts upon the untimely death of his father in a hunting accident. He and his potential father-in-law recognize the impossibility of his marrying and supporting a wife, particularly such a high-maintenance butterfly with no real domestic skills. So he must give up the woman of his dreams and this passionate romance that they both feel.
Out of familial duty, he agrees to marry a rich heiress, daughter of a Cit, to save the family seat and be able to provide for his sisters and mother to some degree. The rich heiress turns out to be a school friend his lost love, who had also met him before during his convalescence (though of course he doesn't remember her). This romance is the story of two people developing a strong relationship through the daily intimacies of marriage and running a household together, as one of them copes with a broken heart. It is also a story about the antiheroine--she is not pretty or accomplished, uncomfortable in Society, awkward in many ways, with an extremely overbearing and vulgar father, however well-meaning he may be.
In some ways, this Heyer novel is a far closer examination of the society of the day than many of her novels. As the hero copes with his father-in-law and his own family and his ex-fiancee, we see just what the expectations of tonnish society are, in terms of things said or done or left unsaid. Likewise, as the antiheroine copes with being thrust into high society and running a lord's house, we see the underlying assumptions and attitudes and behaviors of servants, tenants, and masters, which are usually taken for granted and unexplored in novels where the couple comes from the same class and have the same "breeding" and background. We also see some of the differences between urban and rural society and different moral frameworks between the middle class and high society.
So it was an interesting read, but definitely understated and more sober than her other works. I'd consider buying it.
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where I discovered this one.I don't think this was one that I read in my youth, though I am pretty sure that I would not have cared for it back then. This is a very atypical romance novel. It is not one of those farces where one or both parties are in denial and fail to recognize that love and attraction may be driving their conflicts. It is not the story of two people meeting and falling in love and finally managing to get engaged by the end. And unlike most romances, there is never a point where the heroine declares her feelings either to herself or anyone else directly. There are no villains here, but there is a love triangle or quadrangle.
Instead, this is the story of a storybook romance that crashes on the shoals of real world difficulties. Our hero falls in love with the girl of his dreams when he is on leave from the Peninsular campaign to recover from his wounds. She is the epitome of the high society damsel--beautiful, rich, romantic, not very practical, full of feminine accomplishments like playing the piano, and all exquisite sensibility (in modern terms, a drama queen). However, the story opens when he inherits the family estate and, more importantly, deep debts upon the untimely death of his father in a hunting accident. He and his potential father-in-law recognize the impossibility of his marrying and supporting a wife, particularly such a high-maintenance butterfly with no real domestic skills. So he must give up the woman of his dreams and this passionate romance that they both feel.
Out of familial duty, he agrees to marry a rich heiress, daughter of a Cit, to save the family seat and be able to provide for his sisters and mother to some degree. The rich heiress turns out to be a school friend his lost love, who had also met him before during his convalescence (though of course he doesn't remember her). This romance is the story of two people developing a strong relationship through the daily intimacies of marriage and running a household together, as one of them copes with a broken heart. It is also a story about the antiheroine--she is not pretty or accomplished, uncomfortable in Society, awkward in many ways, with an extremely overbearing and vulgar father, however well-meaning he may be.
In some ways, this Heyer novel is a far closer examination of the society of the day than many of her novels. As the hero copes with his father-in-law and his own family and his ex-fiancee, we see just what the expectations of tonnish society are, in terms of things said or done or left unsaid. Likewise, as the antiheroine copes with being thrust into high society and running a lord's house, we see the underlying assumptions and attitudes and behaviors of servants, tenants, and masters, which are usually taken for granted and unexplored in novels where the couple comes from the same class and have the same "breeding" and background. We also see some of the differences between urban and rural society and different moral frameworks between the middle class and high society.
So it was an interesting read, but definitely understated and more sober than her other works. I'd consider buying it.
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LibraryThing member lyzard
Called home from his military service upon the death of his father, Adam Deveril, the new Lord Lynton, is appalled to discover he must deal with the late Viscount's astronomical debts---debts which will demand the selling of Fontley, the Deveril family estate in Lincolnshire. When his attorney
Looking over his water-logged acres, Adam thought: I still have Fontley. Then, as he thought how much it would cost to bring his neglected land to prosperity, depression surged up in him again... Still, he had at least made a start, and very fortunate he was to have been able to build even two new cottages, when less than a year before he had faced the prospect of being forced to sell Fontley. That had seemed to him the worst thing that could befall him; he had thought that no sacrifice would be too great that would save his home. He had been offered the means to do it, and he had accepted the offer of his own will; and to indulge now in nostalgic yearnings was foolish and contemptible. One could never have everything one wanted in this world, and he, after all, had been granted a great deal: Fontley, and a wife who desired only to make him happy. His heart would never leap at the sight of her; there was no magic in their dealings; but she was kind, and comfortable, and he had grown to be fond of her---so fond, he realised, that if, by the wave of a wand he could cause her to disappear he would not wave it. Enchantment had vanished from the world; his life was not romantic, but practical, and Jenny had become a part of it.
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tentatively suggests that he might "marry money", Adam recoils from the idea---not least because of his tacit understanding with the beautiful Julia Oversley. Recognising that his circumstances forbid their marriage, Adam calls upon Lord Oversley to explain himself, and must endure a painful parting scene with Julia. To his further discomfort, Adam finds Lord Oversley offering the same advice as his attorney; warning him too that once Fontley is gone he will never get it back, and arguing that his duty to his widowed mother and two sisters requires his self-sacrifice. Deeply reluctant but finally resigned, Adam agrees to a marriage of convenience with Jenny Chawleigh, the daughter of the uncultured but wealthy businessman, Jonathan Chawleigh; exchanging his title and social position for Mr Chawleigh's fortune... This 1961 novel by Georgette Heyer is one of her longest and most serious works---and certainly her most divisive. Eschewing her usual humour and deftly handled romance, Heyer instead offers a much more realistic portrait of how marriages were made amongst the aristocracy in the early 19th century. This diversion from her usual approach is one that does not appeal to all readers, with A Civil Contract provoking a great deal of resentment for, in particular, its refusal to manufacture a fairy-tale ending for its characters; although I would argue that they find more happiness than was was usually the case in reality, in this sort of situation. This is a novel with both depth and complexity. It is also unusual for its type in that, at the outset, the marriage of convenience is shown from the man's point of view. In this, Heyer recognises how important it is that the reader understands what Adam suffers under the triple blow of his father's death, his discovery of the debt, and his renunciation of Julia---because otherwise, we could hardly excuse his initial attitude to the plain, shy Jenny: a deep, instinctive resentment exacerbated by both Adam's in-bred class snobbery and his sense of his own powerlessness under the suffocating generosity of Mr Chawleigh---who may well be this novel's real triumph: crass and insensitive - "a vulgarian", as his unappreciative son-in-law labels him; yet at the same time shrewd and kind, and devoted to his only child: we appreciate his good qualities even as we understand why he sometimes drives Adam to the edge of madness. But despite Heyer's care in delineating Adam's state of mind, the reader's sympathies will certainly be with Jenny, as she suppresses her own feelings and tries to be the wife that Adam needs, if not wants, and strives to fulfil the duties of her new and unfamiliar position. (Is there anyone who doesn't agree with Mr Chawleigh when he tells Adam that she's too good for him?) A Civil Contract unfolds over a longer timeframe than most of Heyer's novels, about eighteen months, during which time the apparently ill-matched couple struggles towards a better understanding of each other and a comfortable life together. The passing of time is felt not only in the birth of Adam and Jenny's child (another Heyer first), but in the subplot of Adam's younger sister, the delightful Lydia, who makes her debut and later becomes engaged; and in Adam's monitoring of the military situation in Europe, as the conflict moves inexorably towards the Battle of Waterloo: an event that will mark the beginning of a new phase of the Lyntons' marriage...Looking over his water-logged acres, Adam thought: I still have Fontley. Then, as he thought how much it would cost to bring his neglected land to prosperity, depression surged up in him again... Still, he had at least made a start, and very fortunate he was to have been able to build even two new cottages, when less than a year before he had faced the prospect of being forced to sell Fontley. That had seemed to him the worst thing that could befall him; he had thought that no sacrifice would be too great that would save his home. He had been offered the means to do it, and he had accepted the offer of his own will; and to indulge now in nostalgic yearnings was foolish and contemptible. One could never have everything one wanted in this world, and he, after all, had been granted a great deal: Fontley, and a wife who desired only to make him happy. His heart would never leap at the sight of her; there was no magic in their dealings; but she was kind, and comfortable, and he had grown to be fond of her---so fond, he realised, that if, by the wave of a wand he could cause her to disappear he would not wave it. Enchantment had vanished from the world; his life was not romantic, but practical, and Jenny had become a part of it.
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LibraryThing member atimco
A Civil Contract by Georgette Heyer is not one of that author's very best, but it certainly kept me reading. It tells the story of Captain Adam Deveril, who upon his father's death is facing ruin of the most ignominious kind. Even the beloved family estate of Fontley will have to be sold to pay the
Enter Jonathan Chawleigh. He is the very essence of the self-made man, rich as Croesus but inestimably vulgar to the tastes of the ton. It is his greatest desire to see his only daughter, Jenny, ascend to the heights of society and he hopes to achieve this aim by marrying her to a title. Jenny herself is not terribly ambitious for social distinction, but she is used to giving way to her father's overwhelming personality. She and Adam are soon married and begin their lives with comparative tranquility — but storms are looming ahead. For Adam, though always kind and gentle to Jenny, does not love his slightly stout, undistinguished-looking wife, and comes to resent the garish, lavish presents his father-in-law is always bestowing. Jenny, for her part, loves her handsome, pleasant husband but fears that he looks down upon her. To top it off, she and his old flame Julia Oversley were school friends, and Julia's excessive sensibility leads her to display her broken heart for all the gossips to observe. It seems an inescapable muddle.
This is all very predictable, but also very fun. You know in the end that Adam will begin to value the wife he married over the one he originally wished for; it's seeing how it comes about that is the real interest of the story. I appreciate how he is committed to Jenny and takes his marriage vows seriously, even though his heart inclines him otherwise. What a model of self-discipline! And from the control he exercises over his behavior even when his emotions aren't in it, his feelings and inner thoughts begin to follow the lead of his actions. He does come to love Jenny, not with the adoring worship he gave Julia, but with a sturdier, more practical love that will last.
I enjoyed Heyer's characterizations, as usual. The one that stood out to me in particular was Julia. She is not a thorough-going villain by any means, petulant and selfish and lazy like Adam's mother. Nor is she simply a tragic figure, whose first love was crushed by the cruel circumstance of finance. No, she is something of both, loving to be worshiped and but also generous with giving other girls the spotlight (but, as Heyer observes, only when she gives it, not when the other girl is already occupying that throne of attention without any help from Julia... then it's a different story, oh yes). Shallow is probably the best single word to describe her, and yet it doesn't quite do her justice. If Adam had married her, they would have been deliriously happy for a time, but ultimately the dissimilarity between their interests would have given them their own marital difficulties. Several characters hint that Adam had a lucky escape, even.
Though I knew how this was all going to end, it speaks of the sheer pleasure of reading Heyer that I propped open my eyelids and consumed it to the last page after a tiring day. I just didn't want to put it down. For readers new to Heyer, I would recommend reading Friday's Child first as Heyer's better effort at this basic plot. But there's much to enjoy in A Civil Contract as well.
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debts, unless... unless Adam can be persuaded to marry for money. Though his heart is already given to an acknowledged beauty of the ton, Julia Oversley, he will not marry her even if her father would allow it, because of his poverty. So with that sacrifice already settled in his mind, can it be so much worse to marry a respectable Cit's daughter and restore the family fortunes?Enter Jonathan Chawleigh. He is the very essence of the self-made man, rich as Croesus but inestimably vulgar to the tastes of the ton. It is his greatest desire to see his only daughter, Jenny, ascend to the heights of society and he hopes to achieve this aim by marrying her to a title. Jenny herself is not terribly ambitious for social distinction, but she is used to giving way to her father's overwhelming personality. She and Adam are soon married and begin their lives with comparative tranquility — but storms are looming ahead. For Adam, though always kind and gentle to Jenny, does not love his slightly stout, undistinguished-looking wife, and comes to resent the garish, lavish presents his father-in-law is always bestowing. Jenny, for her part, loves her handsome, pleasant husband but fears that he looks down upon her. To top it off, she and his old flame Julia Oversley were school friends, and Julia's excessive sensibility leads her to display her broken heart for all the gossips to observe. It seems an inescapable muddle.
This is all very predictable, but also very fun. You know in the end that Adam will begin to value the wife he married over the one he originally wished for; it's seeing how it comes about that is the real interest of the story. I appreciate how he is committed to Jenny and takes his marriage vows seriously, even though his heart inclines him otherwise. What a model of self-discipline! And from the control he exercises over his behavior even when his emotions aren't in it, his feelings and inner thoughts begin to follow the lead of his actions. He does come to love Jenny, not with the adoring worship he gave Julia, but with a sturdier, more practical love that will last.
I enjoyed Heyer's characterizations, as usual. The one that stood out to me in particular was Julia. She is not a thorough-going villain by any means, petulant and selfish and lazy like Adam's mother. Nor is she simply a tragic figure, whose first love was crushed by the cruel circumstance of finance. No, she is something of both, loving to be worshiped and but also generous with giving other girls the spotlight (but, as Heyer observes, only when she gives it, not when the other girl is already occupying that throne of attention without any help from Julia... then it's a different story, oh yes). Shallow is probably the best single word to describe her, and yet it doesn't quite do her justice. If Adam had married her, they would have been deliriously happy for a time, but ultimately the dissimilarity between their interests would have given them their own marital difficulties. Several characters hint that Adam had a lucky escape, even.
Though I knew how this was all going to end, it speaks of the sheer pleasure of reading Heyer that I propped open my eyelids and consumed it to the last page after a tiring day. I just didn't want to put it down. For readers new to Heyer, I would recommend reading Friday's Child first as Heyer's better effort at this basic plot. But there's much to enjoy in A Civil Contract as well.
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LibraryThing member laura1814
A Civil Contract is an atypical Georgette Heyer novel. While the setting is firmly Regency, beginning at the time of the Battle of Orthez (February 1814) and ending with that of Waterloo (June 1815), it is neither lively nor witty. It is a quiet book, with a love story that grows gradually, without
However, what follows is a sensitive, nuanced exploration of human relationships that from today’s perspective may seem almost quaint: commitment, respect, duty, honor, fidelity, civility, resentment, and generosity. I say “quaint” because the most cursory glance at current divorce and familial statistics show an absence of almost all of these qualities (saving resentment) to such an extent that a marriage and family where they prevail seems almost naïve, or even alien. Imagine a marriage where commitment, civility, and respect are more important than passion and romance, even at its inception, yet fidelity and appreciation are also central. This isn’t a “romance” novel: it’s an “intimacy” novel, in a non-sexual way. (The couple does have sex, though the only way you know this for certain is that they have a baby: Heyer almost never writes about sex directly.)
Money plays a big role in the novel, and a feminist reading would no doubt analyze the connection between money and sex. But I think that to reduce it to money and sex would fail to do it justice in almost every respect. Yes, of course the contract is an exchange of money for social position that is literally consummated on the body of the woman, but that is the least important aspect of the situation. The real story is how they grow together and create something new: a lifetime together based not in physical urges but in common goals and a determination to make it work and find contentment. When money comes to the fore, it is more usually (though certainly not always) a point of contention between the hero and his father-in-law rather than his wife: it highlights the differences of class and the meaning of nobility (which, in Heyer’s world, is not always exclusively associated with a character’s station at birth). With more time and space, I could take it a step further, and analyze the tension between money and power being played out over the pregnancy.
Despite the serious overtones, the novel does not lack for the comic relief or the masterfully-drawn secondary characters at which Heyer excels. The most notable is the Cit (the father-in-law), who is hopelessly vulgar, but also shrewd, generous, and kind. (In her new biography of Heyer, Jennifer Kloester describes him as “one of [Heyer]’s comic triumphs” and quotes her as saying that he continually “tried to steal the whole book, & had to be firmly pushed off the stage.”) The recently-widowed dowager peeress, on the other hand, is languishing but selfishly manipulative, and when these two strong-willed persons encounter one another, she is completely nonplussed, while her elder daughter cannot help but “regard him with much the same nervous surprise as she would have felt at being addressed by an aboriginal.” Even more entertaining is the clash of titans between the Cit and the hero’s aunt, who presents the bride at court. She routs him completely, leaving him in the unfamiliar circumstance of having nothing to say. Further amusement comes from the hero’s second sister, an irrepressible damsel not yet out who initially conceives the idea of saving the family fortunes by becoming a famous comedic actress, an ambition that survives (even after her brother’s marriage) until she encounters Kean’s performance in Hamlet, when she decides that she must become a tragic actress instead, in order to play opposite him.
Many Heyer fans name A Civil Contract as their favorite Heyer novel. I personally have found that my appreciation of it has grown over the years, and I did not always like it so well as I do now. I once thought it was a sad book, but I no longer think so: it is a hopeful book, and ultimately a very positive one.
The Sourcebooks edition is typical: a lovely (though Victorian) cover, good paper, and an easy-to-read typeface, with only a few “scannos,” one of which is “Playoff” for General Platoff.
Note: I wrote this review for Austenprose, where it was published 27 November 2011.
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any sparkle or adventure. The eponymous contract is a marriage contract between an impoverished, newly-acceded peer and a wealthy “Cit” (Citizen of the City of London)’s daughter. It is an inauspicious beginning: the aristocrat is in love with someone else, the bride is homely, and the Cit is vulgar.However, what follows is a sensitive, nuanced exploration of human relationships that from today’s perspective may seem almost quaint: commitment, respect, duty, honor, fidelity, civility, resentment, and generosity. I say “quaint” because the most cursory glance at current divorce and familial statistics show an absence of almost all of these qualities (saving resentment) to such an extent that a marriage and family where they prevail seems almost naïve, or even alien. Imagine a marriage where commitment, civility, and respect are more important than passion and romance, even at its inception, yet fidelity and appreciation are also central. This isn’t a “romance” novel: it’s an “intimacy” novel, in a non-sexual way. (The couple does have sex, though the only way you know this for certain is that they have a baby: Heyer almost never writes about sex directly.)
Money plays a big role in the novel, and a feminist reading would no doubt analyze the connection between money and sex. But I think that to reduce it to money and sex would fail to do it justice in almost every respect. Yes, of course the contract is an exchange of money for social position that is literally consummated on the body of the woman, but that is the least important aspect of the situation. The real story is how they grow together and create something new: a lifetime together based not in physical urges but in common goals and a determination to make it work and find contentment. When money comes to the fore, it is more usually (though certainly not always) a point of contention between the hero and his father-in-law rather than his wife: it highlights the differences of class and the meaning of nobility (which, in Heyer’s world, is not always exclusively associated with a character’s station at birth). With more time and space, I could take it a step further, and analyze the tension between money and power being played out over the pregnancy.
Despite the serious overtones, the novel does not lack for the comic relief or the masterfully-drawn secondary characters at which Heyer excels. The most notable is the Cit (the father-in-law), who is hopelessly vulgar, but also shrewd, generous, and kind. (In her new biography of Heyer, Jennifer Kloester describes him as “one of [Heyer]’s comic triumphs” and quotes her as saying that he continually “tried to steal the whole book, & had to be firmly pushed off the stage.”) The recently-widowed dowager peeress, on the other hand, is languishing but selfishly manipulative, and when these two strong-willed persons encounter one another, she is completely nonplussed, while her elder daughter cannot help but “regard him with much the same nervous surprise as she would have felt at being addressed by an aboriginal.” Even more entertaining is the clash of titans between the Cit and the hero’s aunt, who presents the bride at court. She routs him completely, leaving him in the unfamiliar circumstance of having nothing to say. Further amusement comes from the hero’s second sister, an irrepressible damsel not yet out who initially conceives the idea of saving the family fortunes by becoming a famous comedic actress, an ambition that survives (even after her brother’s marriage) until she encounters Kean’s performance in Hamlet, when she decides that she must become a tragic actress instead, in order to play opposite him.
Many Heyer fans name A Civil Contract as their favorite Heyer novel. I personally have found that my appreciation of it has grown over the years, and I did not always like it so well as I do now. I once thought it was a sad book, but I no longer think so: it is a hopeful book, and ultimately a very positive one.
The Sourcebooks edition is typical: a lovely (though Victorian) cover, good paper, and an easy-to-read typeface, with only a few “scannos,” one of which is “Playoff” for General Platoff.
Note: I wrote this review for Austenprose, where it was published 27 November 2011.
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LibraryThing member rosalita
Adam Deveril is a captain in the British Army, fighting under the Duke of Wellington in France, in the waning days of the first Napoleonic War. Shortly before Napoleon abdicates and peace is declared, Lynton is forced to sell out and return home. His father, Viscount Lynton, has died in a hunting
Deveril's financial advisor and others urge him to consider marrying a rich merchant's daughter to ensure his family's future, but he had earlier fallen in love with a beautiful young noblewoman and can't imagine life with anyone else. It doesn't take long for him to realize that he has no choice, and so in short order he winds up married to Jenny Chawleigh, a shy, plain, plump young woman whose father is both the richest man in London and a vulgarian whose blunt ways set Adam's teeth on edge.
This is Heyer, so we know there will be a happy ending. But it's not the one you might have expected at the outset, and there's much less of the author's trademark slang-soaked slapstick along the way. A Civil Contract presents a view of the aristocracy and the merchant class of Regency London that virtually none of her other books do, and it's deeply satisfying to see familiar character types from different angles. The hero is not perfect, and neither is the heroine, but the author's plotting and personality profiles are as close to perfection as she ever got, in my opinion. Enthusiastically recommended.
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accident and left a severely debt-ridden and mortgage-encumbered estate, along with two young daughters who need husbands and a wife to whom the word 'economy' is unknown. Deveril's financial advisor and others urge him to consider marrying a rich merchant's daughter to ensure his family's future, but he had earlier fallen in love with a beautiful young noblewoman and can't imagine life with anyone else. It doesn't take long for him to realize that he has no choice, and so in short order he winds up married to Jenny Chawleigh, a shy, plain, plump young woman whose father is both the richest man in London and a vulgarian whose blunt ways set Adam's teeth on edge.
This is Heyer, so we know there will be a happy ending. But it's not the one you might have expected at the outset, and there's much less of the author's trademark slang-soaked slapstick along the way. A Civil Contract presents a view of the aristocracy and the merchant class of Regency London that virtually none of her other books do, and it's deeply satisfying to see familiar character types from different angles. The hero is not perfect, and neither is the heroine, but the author's plotting and personality profiles are as close to perfection as she ever got, in my opinion. Enthusiastically recommended.
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LibraryThing member T.Arkenberg
I had this book recommended to me by a number of people as a different sort of romance. And it is certainly, refreshingly that. It is unstintingly true to its premise—the marriage of convenience—and, may I say what an awesome change of pace it is to read about a heroine who is goodhearted and
But a quick warning to anyone who gets the Harlequin mass market paperback: Jo Beverly’s introduction spoils you for the ending but good! Once you’ve safely finished the story, it’s worth going back to the intro for some background on the arranged marriage in romantic fiction and on A Civil Contract’s position in Heyer’s body of work. Apparently Heyer wrote this book during a difficult period of her life, which may be why it’s more subdued than many similar stories. For all that, it has great charm if not searing passion.
A Civil Contract felt very convincing as a historical. People’s feelings about the arranged marriage—practical, if wistful for missed opportunities—seemed like what you’d expect in a place and time where marriages of convenience were usual. This does make the drama much more low key, but there were still plenty of sources of tension: the hero, Adam, is a Viscount who finds himself dependent on his fiance’s father’s money, raising a host of class issues, and then there’s his former love Julia who doesn’t take the marriage quite as calmly as everyone else. The characters were sympathetic and I genuinely cared for their happiness by the end.
While no expert on the Regency period myself I think the story was well-researched. I did have my doubts about the hero’s younger sister wanting to join the theater early on in the story—obviously she’s being impractical with this idea, but I thought it would be much more of a scandal to become an actress than her family treats it with (in effect, I wouldn’t expect people to respond so calmly to an announcement their little sister wants to become the next thing to a prostitute, even if she obviously can’t and won’t go through with it). I’ve also since heard that Heyer made up many of the characters’ colloquialisms. Those colloquialisms spouted in profusion, especially from the nouveau riche bride Jenny Chawleigh and her father (everything from “sure as a gun” to “Humdudgeon…and fiddle-faddling nonsense!”), making some of the minor figures especially seem cartoonish, yet also breathing life into the story. The prose itself follows Austen’s, perhaps too well for readers who prefer shorter sentences.
Speaking of historical background, I should note that knowing the denouement of the battle of Waterloo did not keep me from rapidly devouring, with great anticipation, the climax of the story in which it played a decisive role. Although quiet, the stakes in this story are still high—the livelihoods and happiness of two people who only want the best for themselves, their families, and their friends.
Less a historical romance than “historical fiction about a marriage,” I can see how this one may disappoint readers after the more typical love story. Even I found it a touch bittersweet. But by subverting the standard romantic tropes, it encourages readers to reexamine them, and emerge with a new appreciation for all sorts of happy endings.
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clever, but also hopelessly awkward and rather plain, mousy and plump? Jenny is one of the realist romance heroines out there—and the ending of the story is also very real. But a quick warning to anyone who gets the Harlequin mass market paperback: Jo Beverly’s introduction spoils you for the ending but good! Once you’ve safely finished the story, it’s worth going back to the intro for some background on the arranged marriage in romantic fiction and on A Civil Contract’s position in Heyer’s body of work. Apparently Heyer wrote this book during a difficult period of her life, which may be why it’s more subdued than many similar stories. For all that, it has great charm if not searing passion.
A Civil Contract felt very convincing as a historical. People’s feelings about the arranged marriage—practical, if wistful for missed opportunities—seemed like what you’d expect in a place and time where marriages of convenience were usual. This does make the drama much more low key, but there were still plenty of sources of tension: the hero, Adam, is a Viscount who finds himself dependent on his fiance’s father’s money, raising a host of class issues, and then there’s his former love Julia who doesn’t take the marriage quite as calmly as everyone else. The characters were sympathetic and I genuinely cared for their happiness by the end.
While no expert on the Regency period myself I think the story was well-researched. I did have my doubts about the hero’s younger sister wanting to join the theater early on in the story—obviously she’s being impractical with this idea, but I thought it would be much more of a scandal to become an actress than her family treats it with (in effect, I wouldn’t expect people to respond so calmly to an announcement their little sister wants to become the next thing to a prostitute, even if she obviously can’t and won’t go through with it). I’ve also since heard that Heyer made up many of the characters’ colloquialisms. Those colloquialisms spouted in profusion, especially from the nouveau riche bride Jenny Chawleigh and her father (everything from “sure as a gun” to “Humdudgeon…and fiddle-faddling nonsense!”), making some of the minor figures especially seem cartoonish, yet also breathing life into the story. The prose itself follows Austen’s, perhaps too well for readers who prefer shorter sentences.
Speaking of historical background, I should note that knowing the denouement of the battle of Waterloo did not keep me from rapidly devouring, with great anticipation, the climax of the story in which it played a decisive role. Although quiet, the stakes in this story are still high—the livelihoods and happiness of two people who only want the best for themselves, their families, and their friends.
Less a historical romance than “historical fiction about a marriage,” I can see how this one may disappoint readers after the more typical love story. Even I found it a touch bittersweet. But by subverting the standard romantic tropes, it encourages readers to reexamine them, and emerge with a new appreciation for all sorts of happy endings.
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LibraryThing member lovell
I like this book because the heroine is not beautiful and the hero is not a cardboard cut out but has realistically annoying foibles. It is more a story of how a marriage can be based on a desire to make it work, what happens after the wedding bells rather than "they happily ever after.
LibraryThing member nholmes
One of Heyer's best, with a great variety of characters and an unusual plot - not at all in the usual vein of romantic plots
LibraryThing member laughingatus
Adam Deveril, a hero of Salamanca, returns from the Peninsula War to find his family on the brink of ruin and the broad acres of his ancestral home mortgaged to the hilt.
LibraryThing member PhoenixFalls
This was my first Georgette Heyer novel, and I found it truly delightful. I rarely read romances because I have no patience for swooning heroines and brooding heroes, and though one of my favorite authors cites Heyer in general and this book in particular as an inspiration, it took me some time to
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pick it up.I had no trouble with the amount of period detail, because it seemed no more overwhelming than reading any period piece (such as Jane Austen, who is mentioned a couple of times in the text); indeed, it was set out in a fairly accessible way, which it often is not when reading something written during that time period. I also had no trouble with the time spent on description, particularly of clothing -- Heyer uses her descriptive passages well, always making sure that they are accomplishing either some character-building or at the very least are humorous. (In many cases they were both.) I did find the characters drawn a trifle broadly for my taste -- each person, when introduced seemed so much a stereotype that I worried the plot would be wholly predictable.However, once all the principal parties were introduced, Heyer was able to just set her characters at one another, and this was where she soared for me. I giggled throughout the novel, and actually found myself dog-earing pages with particularly witty dialogue so I could read them to my boyfriend later on. I found Jenny a heroine after my own heart, particularly because she would have laughed at anyone even attempting to call her one.And that was why I loved the ending so very much. The novel has no ". . .and they lived happily ever after", and that makes it feel far realer than a romance has any right to be. There is no melodrama in this novel, no great stores of passion; it is simply two people finding contentment with each other, and discovering that if the choice is between passion and contentment, contentment is to be preferred. Truly, a novel after my own heart, and one I can heartily recommend. Show Less
LibraryThing member AbigailAdams26
When Captain Adam Deveril returns homes from the Napoleonic Wars, he is shocked to discover that his family fortune has been lost, and that he stands in danger of losing Fontley, his family's ancestral seat. Surrendering his dreams of marrying the woman he loves, the new Viscount Lynton does his
A Civil Contract has never ranked among my favorite Georgette Heyer novels, owing in large part to the fact that it is somewhat melancholy, and far less romantic than some of her other work. The story of a married couple who start out without love, but eventually achieve a comfortable friendship, it is not designed to appeal to younger readers.
That said, I did find myself enjoying it far more than I expected while re-reading it, and think it marvelously well-written. Some of the secondary characters, from the vulgar Joseph Chawleigh to the spirited Lydia Deveril, are truly engaging, and the reader can't help but wonder what will happen next.
It is unfortunate however, that this second reading did nothing to improve my impressions of the hero, whom Heyer presents as a model of forbearance and good manners, but who strikes me as a somewhat dim-witted hypocrite, so blinded by his own class prejudice that he believes that Jenny - the most perceptive and honorable character in the book - lacks the "sensibility" necessary to understand his feelings. She spends the entire novel protecting him from his own weakness, despite knowing that he only married her for her money, and he spends it trying to adjust to the vulgarity of relations he wouldn't have at all if he wasn't more concerned with their money than their "quality."
What can I say? Jenny is worth ten of her "hero." I might have given A Civil Contract 2 stars, had Heyer's excellent writing not saved it...
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duty by his family instead, marrying the far less attractive Miss Jenny Chawleigh, daughter of England's most wealthy merchant...A Civil Contract has never ranked among my favorite Georgette Heyer novels, owing in large part to the fact that it is somewhat melancholy, and far less romantic than some of her other work. The story of a married couple who start out without love, but eventually achieve a comfortable friendship, it is not designed to appeal to younger readers.
That said, I did find myself enjoying it far more than I expected while re-reading it, and think it marvelously well-written. Some of the secondary characters, from the vulgar Joseph Chawleigh to the spirited Lydia Deveril, are truly engaging, and the reader can't help but wonder what will happen next.
It is unfortunate however, that this second reading did nothing to improve my impressions of the hero, whom Heyer presents as a model of forbearance and good manners, but who strikes me as a somewhat dim-witted hypocrite, so blinded by his own class prejudice that he believes that Jenny - the most perceptive and honorable character in the book - lacks the "sensibility" necessary to understand his feelings. She spends the entire novel protecting him from his own weakness, despite knowing that he only married her for her money, and he spends it trying to adjust to the vulgarity of relations he wouldn't have at all if he wasn't more concerned with their money than their "quality."
What can I say? Jenny is worth ten of her "hero." I might have given A Civil Contract 2 stars, had Heyer's excellent writing not saved it...
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LibraryThing member LadyWesley
A masterful job by Georgette Heyer that deserves to be liberated from the "Regency romance" ghetto and considered as serious fiction. It's not really even a romance, given that the main characters marry for money and nothing else. We watch them grow, however, into a sort of love based upon their
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strong commitment and sense of honor. Very touching, with a dose of humor delivered by the bride's impressively vulgar father. Show Less
LibraryThing member lovelylime
2.5 stars. Meh.
I like Jenny, I like Jenny a lot. But I don't like Adam, and I don't like the plot. I was far more interested in Lydia and Brough, and Julia and Rockhill. This started as a marriage of convenience, and ended as one. Bore!
I like Jenny, I like Jenny a lot. But I don't like Adam, and I don't like the plot. I was far more interested in Lydia and Brough, and Julia and Rockhill. This started as a marriage of convenience, and ended as one. Bore!
LibraryThing member kloafman
Have re-read this one more than any other of her works.
LibraryThing member Figgles
Almost an anti-romance, this work subverts Heyer's usual world where people marry for love (though generally sensibly). Here we have a hero who must marry for money and who learns, as time passes that he's better off with his plain, practical bride. Although the subtext that the way to a mans heart
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is through making him comfortable can make for uncomfortable reading! A little unusual but worth the read. Show Less
LibraryThing member Murphy-Jacobs
Fluffy Regency tale about a man learning the difference between romantic fantasy and stable, married love set with Waterloo in the background.
Somehow Heyer delights me despite an over reliance on adverbs to describe how people speak, stabbing eyes and people bursting into tears.
Somehow Heyer delights me despite an over reliance on adverbs to describe how people speak, stabbing eyes and people bursting into tears.
LibraryThing member Krumbs
It took a little while for me to get past the language and get into the story, but once I got used to it I really enjoyed the author's style. She began writing on the 1920s but the book holds up very well. Much richer than a modern romance novel, but at it's heart that's what this was. Perhaps
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better--there was no magical happy ending or grand passion. It was a standard romance plot without all the modern contrivances. The eyes did not speak! Although vintage, it was a breath of fresh air. Show Less
LibraryThing member riverwillow
This is the antithesis of most of Heyer's other Georgian novels as the book starts with the marriage. Adam Devril has met the love of his life, Julia Oversley, but it's not a suitable match because Adam's father has gambled away so much of his family fortune so Adam needs a rich wife. So he's
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introduced to Jenny Chawleigh, daughter of a wealthy city man whose looking to marry her to a man of status. The book charts the first few months of their marriage and how their arranged marriage settles into something that will endure. Show Less
LibraryThing member byroade
One of my all-time favorite books with good character development and an understandable love story. Every time I read this story I pick up more and more elements. There's a lot to engage the reader, but you probably need a good dose of Regency novels and an understanding of the subgenre's
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conventions to fully appreciate the workings of the storyline. Show Less
LibraryThing member CarriePalmer
Lambert Says! A portrait of a marriage in the late Regency era. I love this book, but I have always thought this should be titled The Convenient Marriage and the Convenient Marriage called Civil Contract.
LibraryThing member katiekrug
I started this one on audio, but wasn't getting a lot of time to listen and was impatient to know what would happen next in the story of Jenny and Adam so I bought the Kindle version to finish the last 150 pages or so. It is not as overtly comical as many of Heyer's Regency works, but there is
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still humor, mostly provided by the impossibly vulgar but lovable Jonathan Chawleigh. At heart, this is a story of growing up and growing out of youthful passion and into respectful and sensible adulthood. And that was my one problem with it. I spent a few hundred pages watching the story develop and waiting for Adam to realize just how wonderful Jenny was, and while he did come to appreciate her, there was no great "AHA!" moment, and, being a romantic at heart, I kind of wished there had been. It would have made up for a lot of annoyance I felt at Adam through much of the book. As it was, I felt let down by the ending and what could have been a really wonderful 4.5 star read for me lost a bit at the end. Still, worth a look if you like Heyer and her type. Show Less
LibraryThing member MusicMom41
This is almost an “anti-romance” novel. Viscount Lynton (Adam) comes home from the Napoleonic Wars when his father dies in a hunting accident only to find that his father has ruined the estate and he faces having to sell the family home. He also must give up the girl of his dreams to whom he is
I think this book may be distantly related to These Old Shades & Devil’s Cub which are related to her classic book, Infamous Army, the book about the Napoleonic wars. There is quite a bit of information about the battle at Waterloo in this book.
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betrothed. The girl’s father puts Adam in the way of marrying an heiress, the daughter of an extremely shrewd and wealthy, if somewhat uncouth Cit in order to save the home. The daughter has been raised to have good manners, but she is no beauty and certainly not romantic. She reminds one of Drusilla in The Quiet Gentleman, but without the genteel background. The story was entertaining, especially for readers who like to root for the more sensible girls over the lovely but impractically romantic beauties who usually win the hero. I think this book may be distantly related to These Old Shades & Devil’s Cub which are related to her classic book, Infamous Army, the book about the Napoleonic wars. There is quite a bit of information about the battle at Waterloo in this book.
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LibraryThing member Bodagirl
My first Heyer, and I liked it. I though her dealings with the feelings of both Jenny and Adam to be realistic. I almost wish it had stayed a tragic love story, but I wasn't displeased with the happy ending. Very reminiscent of Vanity Fair by William Thackery, though much more readable. I could
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also see watching the Kiera Knightley movie The Duchess as a companion piece. Show Less
LibraryThing member Tafadhali
A fun read, as always. I wish I felt more convinced of Adam's feelings for Jenny, but they were both likable characters and it was an interesting take on the marriage of convenience plot.
LibraryThing member wealhtheowwylfing
Adam Deveril inherits his family estate only to find it horribly encumbered by debt. Of course in such a situation he can no longer dream of marrying the woman he fell in love with years ago, Julia. Even worse, his only chance to keep his beloved family home and give his sisters good dowries is to
But while Adam enters into the arrangement as though it was purely a civil contract, Jenny has more on the line. Jenny actually knows Adam from years ago, when she was one of Julia's many friends hanging around in the background as Julia and Adam had their epic romance, and she's been in love with him ever since. She knows he cannot love her back, but she is determined to be a good wife to him, and make his life comfortable even if she cannot be who he actually wants to marry. Over the course of the novel Adam sees some of what she does for him (although not all--most of her attempts to please him in even small ways, such as going to parties she hates or having his favorite pastries made every day in case he comes home from traveling that day, remain unnoticed and are never recognized as the abject offerings of love that they are) and realizes that he actually likes their joined families.Over the course of the novel he realizes that Julia would have been a clinging wife who needed constant reassurance and attention, and wouldn't have helped him resurrect his estates' farms, and even starts to fall out of love with her. By the last chapter, the stage seems set for Adam to finally realize that he's in love with Jenny, with whom he shares so many little jokes, with whom he's created a family he loves, who makes his life comfortable and pleasant in a million different ways--and he doesn't. The very last pages have Jenny realize that her best efforts have gotten her a relationship of companionship, but that he will never love her.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
This was the very first Heyer book I've read in which I really wanted the couple to fall in love, and also the only one in which they haven't. Adam is easily my favorite of Heyer's male leads: he tries so hard to do what's right and be kind to those around him. Even when he'd rather tear his hair out and go screaming into the night, he makes a soft little joke instead to lighten the social mood and keep his guests comfortable. And I really liked Jenny, although her pitiful attempts to please Adam in every way possible got a little sad. If he'd ever noticed them, or realized what effort she put in, I would have felt less uncomfortable with it. But still I wanted them to get together--they seemed like a couple that would actually work well together. They both have learned to respect each other, unlike the numerous Heyer romances in which the masterful man takes over for the fainting heroine, or the few in which the clever heroine out-maneuvers the naive hero). And they seem well-suited: they are both family-loving, pragmatic homebodies.
So close to being everything I want in a Heyer, and then the ending ruined it for me. As a commentary on marriages of convenience, it's a wonderful breath of fresh air. As a romance (which is what I thought it was) it is a horrible let down.
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marry a rich man's daughter. Although he shies away at such a mercenary marriage, he is at last persuaded to marry plain, unexciting Jenny Chawleigh. They both enter into their marriage knowing it to be a marriage of convenience--Adam gets money from Jenny's doting and immensely wealthy father, while the Chawleighs' get to move up in the social world. But while Adam enters into the arrangement as though it was purely a civil contract, Jenny has more on the line. Jenny actually knows Adam from years ago, when she was one of Julia's many friends hanging around in the background as Julia and Adam had their epic romance, and she's been in love with him ever since. She knows he cannot love her back, but she is determined to be a good wife to him, and make his life comfortable even if she cannot be who he actually wants to marry. Over the course of the novel Adam sees some of what she does for him (although not all--most of her attempts to please him in even small ways, such as going to parties she hates or having his favorite pastries made every day in case he comes home from traveling that day, remain unnoticed and are never recognized as the abject offerings of love that they are) and realizes that he actually likes their joined families.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
This was the very first Heyer book I've read in which I really wanted the couple to fall in love, and also the only one in which they haven't. Adam is easily my favorite of Heyer's male leads: he tries so hard to do what's right and be kind to those around him. Even when he'd rather tear his hair out and go screaming into the night, he makes a soft little joke instead to lighten the social mood and keep his guests comfortable. And I really liked Jenny, although her pitiful attempts to please Adam in every way possible got a little sad. If he'd ever noticed them, or realized what effort she put in, I would have felt less uncomfortable with it. But still I wanted them to get together--they seemed like a couple that would actually work well together. They both have learned to respect each other, unlike the numerous Heyer romances in which the masterful man takes over for the fainting heroine, or the few in which the clever heroine out-maneuvers the naive hero). And they seem well-suited: they are both family-loving, pragmatic homebodies.
So close to being everything I want in a Heyer, and then the ending ruined it for me. As a commentary on marriages of convenience, it's a wonderful breath of fresh air. As a romance (which is what I thought it was) it is a horrible let down.
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Language
Original language
English
ISBN
9781491572382
UPC
889290364357
Physical description
6.5 x 5.5 inches