When the black sheep of the family inherits the title and estate, you know some Gothic inheritance drama is about to go down. Gervase Frant has succeeded his father as Earl, only to find himself fending off attacks on his life while living amongst the family that always hated him in Georgette Heyer’s The Quiet Gentleman (1951). The Romancing the Gothic book club I’ve been participating in this summer recently introduced me to Heyer—the prolific twentieth-century British author who essentially established historical romance as a genre, specializing in the Regency romance. The Quiet Gentleman is a prime example of her work and also shows the clear influence that the Gothic often had on the budding romance genre.
Gervase is the disgraced son of the noble Frant family. When he was a young boy, his mother ran off with another man, and though his father remarried, Gervase’s presence merely reminds the family of this heartbreaking scandal. As the eldest son, however, he is still the heir. And upon his father’s death, Gervase returns to the estate at Stanyon to take on his role as the new Earl of St. Erth. His stepmother and half-brother give him a cold welcome, and it’s clear they had hoped he would die in the military and leave Martin to inherit. But would they dare to act on these hopes? Someone, it seems, is trying to murder Gervase. He’ll need to discover who it is if he wants to survive—and do it quietly if he wants to escape another scandal. Luckily, there’s a clever young woman who is keen to keep him safe.
Though I would categorize The Quite Gentleman primarily as romantic suspense, there are quite a few elements that are borrowed from and in conversation with the Gothic. For one, a plot involving contested inheritances and murderous relations is a common Gothic trope going back to The Castle of Otranto. As another example, the estate of Stanyon is a particularly Gothic setting—an ancestral home that goes back to the Medieval era and is replete with chilling drafts, labyrinthine halls, and secret passageways. But I found the most interesting aspect of the story to be the way that it plays with the tropes of Gothic heroes and heroines.
Gervase and his half-brother Martin are set up as the two main foils in the story. Martin more closely resembles the stereotypical image of the Gothic hero—he’s dark and brooding, with tempestuous moods, unable to control his passions. He’s clearly modeled on the likes of Heathcliff and Mr. Rochester. Yet instead of this being portrayed as romantic, manly, and alluring, he comes off as childish, immature, and dangerous, and most of the women in the story are alarmed and appalled by his behavior. In stark contrast, Gervase is quiet and reserved, always thinking very deliberately before he acts. Even as he investigates the attempts on his life, he never jumps to conclusions or acts on impulsive emotions. He’s also quite the dandy, meticulous about his appearance and obsessed with his fancily tied cravats. Martin finds him rather effeminate, but none of the ladies seem to mind. In fact, Gervase is the one who gets the girl in the end.
The female characters, too, present contrasting takes on femininity. Marianne, the beautiful young debutante in the neighboring estate, is your more typical Gothic heroine. She’s young and naïve, and her beauty makes her the object of every man’s attention. She’s thrilled by tales of ghosts, but helpless when in any real danger. Then there’s Drusilla Moreville, the young houseguest who’s been staying with the Frants while her parents are abroad. Just as Gervase seems to be an anti-Gothic hero, Drusilla is an anti-Gothic heroine. Though her parents are immersed in the ideals of the Romantic movement, Drusilla is eminently practical and disinclined to drama. She quietly observes all that goes on around her and is acutely aware of everyone else’s emotional states and needs. She is a master peacemaker and uses her skills to gently manipulate the other characters in a way that called out to my Slytherin heart. And unlike Marianne, she does not believe in ghosts. Drusilla sometimes berates herself for not behaving more like a romantic heroine—though she gives herself the credit of acknowledging that her practicality is actually much more beneficial to story’s hero. But her life doesn’t revolve around getting the guy, and while others are flirting and fawning, she quietly pieces together the identity of the would-be murderer.
If you love a good Gothic mystery as well as a good romance, check out The Quiet Gentleman. You can buy it online and support The Gothic Library and independent bookstores in the process by clicking this Bookshop.org affiliate link. If you’ve read it, let me hear your thoughts in the comments! I’ll definitely be reading some more Heyer in the future, so Heyer fans feel free to drop some recommendations in the comments, as well.
Love this review and that comparison of Martin and Gervase and where they stand in terms of Gothic heroism! Love it.