Review: 'The Fencing Master's Daughter' by Giselle Marks

I admit I have a vested interest in this book as I did do the artwork for the cover.  I originally did it in midnight blue, but Giselle prefers green, and that's what computer paint programs are for!

Here's the blurb:

Edward, Earl of Chalcombe, walking home, is attacked by footpads. He attempts to defend himself but is bludgeoned to the ground. Death seems inevitable when a fat ugly man carrying a stick and a beautiful slender young lady appeared. The young lady stumbles and picks up his dropped foil, dispatching one footpad and injuring another. The fat man belabours a third with his stick. The footpads flee, leaving their deceased comrade behind. The rescuers bundle Edward home.
The young lady, Madelaine summons the Bow Street runners. Refusing reward she provides no address. But Edward fascinated by both Madelaine’s beauty and swordsmanship intends to pursue the acquaintance. Edward seeks his rescuers and the culprits who wish to terminate his life. Offering the elusive Madelaine marriage but she repeatedly declines. Her father accepts an invitation to visit his estate with her over Christmas as he takes a liking to Edward. As Edward pursues Madelaine, the attempts on his life continue. The sinister French spy, Major Furet, discovered as the arch nemesis in both Edward and Madelaine’s stories. The mystery intertwines as their romance progresses and Madelaine eventually reveals the secret making her refuse to marry him.

The Fencing Master's Daughter is a fast-paced and exciting story with plenty of romance in it but too with a well-crafted and plausible plotline, and - you all know my preferences - some delightfully drawn secondary characters.  The reader wants Edward and Madelaine to be together where they belong, and long to find out why she refuses the offer of marriage from a man she's plainly in love with.  
Madelaine is a heroine after my own heart, no shrinking violet!  She has no hesitation in setting out on a rescue when it becomes necessary, and is a perfect foil - pun intended - to the intrepid Edward.  

find it HERE  at Front Porch Romance
 
Below the two original pastel pictures I did.... 

Friday 13th Lucky for some! Friends and Fortunes published!

So it's here at last, Friends and Fortunes, inspired by Georgette Heyer, and whilst nobody can aspire to her ability, I hope it's a fun read... I thought I'd post the pic with and without all the words and blurb on as I had great fun doing the cover.  There will be a link presently when it's up....

Renaissance Darwin Award

So I was browsing the Medieval manuscripts blog [as you do] and I came across this AWESOME Renaissance Darwin award entry.

Miniature of a man chopping down the tree on which he sits as an illustration of the proverb 'chopping the branch that supports you' which I suppose is another version of biting the hand that feeds you.  Now I've done a bit of tree felling and if he's using the axe with such insouciant abandon in such a position he's actually lucky to have any toes left AND to have made a straightish cut. 
It's from Pierre Sala's Petits livre d'Amour [Paris and Lyon], 1st quarter of the 16th century and courtesy of the British Library public domain tag.  Great resource!  Go and look at the blog, it's something special. 

Miniature of a man cutting down a tree on which he sits (an illustration of the proverb: 'chopping down the branch that supports you'), from Pierre Sala’s Petit Livre d’Amour, France (Paris and Lyon), 1st quarter of the 16th century, Stowe MS 955, - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/08/get-ready-to-save-as-new-uploads-to-the-catalogue-of-illuminated-manuscripts.html#sthash.0u0uazdK.dpuf

Miniature of a man cutting down a tree on which he sits (an illustration of the proverb: 'chopping down the branch that supports you'), from Pierre Sala’s Petit Livre d’Amour, France (Paris and Lyon), 1st quarter of the 16th century, Stowe MS 955, - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/08/get-ready-to-save-as-new-uploads-to-the-catalogue-of-illuminated-manuscripts.html#sthash.0u0uazdK.dpuf

Miniature of a man cutting down a tree on which he sits (an illustration of the proverb: 'chopping down the branch that supports you'), from Pierre Sala’s Petit Livre d’Amour, France (Paris and Lyon), 1st quarter of the 16th century, Stowe MS 955, - See more at: http://britishlibrary.typepad.co.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2013/08/get-ready-to-save-as-new-uploads-to-the-catalogue-of-illuminated-manuscripts.html#sthash.0u0uazdK.dpuf

The Pedestrian Curricle, or Hobby Horse

My first introduction to this forerunner of the bicycle was in the local museum, Christchurch Mansion, in Ipswich, which has been beautifully refurbished since my childhood.  Back then it stood with a sedan chair in the passage outside the kitchen, for want of somewhere better to put it. 
My later introduction to this short-lived fad was through Georgette Heyer's Frederica, the first of her novels I read, at the age of 9, and a fortuitous introduction to a rather young reader.  The adventures that Jessamy Merriville on a pedestrian curricle date the book quite accurately to 1819 and provide a hilarious interlude.

So what WAS the pedestrian curricle? 

This is the one in Ipswich, which thanks to Debbie Barnes of the Ipswich Museum I was able to go and see at the Ipswich Transport Museum where it is on loan [and thanks to for the co-operation of the staff and volunteers there who organised a backcloth for me to photograph it against for clarity].

The  Pedestrian Curricle was invented by one Baron Von Drais and was introduced to England by Dennis Johnson.  One sat astride it and propelled oneself by essentially a form of gliding stride,  with which considerable speed might be obtained. 
With regards to its history I can do no better than the excellent Kathryn Kane who has written it up here, the rise and here, the fall as well as in the book by Captain Roger Street to be obtained here; 
The intent of this blog is to add some supplemental visual material  to Kat's blog, with the photograph of our local one and a few contemporary images.

The fad was sufficiently notorious to achieve an illustrated article in 'Ackermann's Repository' in February 1819.

 

 Jessamy's experience was probably not unusual, and there is an extant picture by, or after, Maurice Rousseau which appears to show some kind of school for the use of the Hobby Horse.  Note that one of the gentlemen has lifted his feet to coast; some Pedestrian curricles had places to rest the feet.  The Ipswich one does not.