The Mischief of the Mistletoe (Lauren Willig)

'In all the annals of romance, it was never the court jester who got the girl. It was always the knight in shining armor, dashing to the rescue in shining breastplate on a snowy white steed,' muses the hero in Lauren Willig's The Mischief of the Mistletoe. He has reason to -- he is more jester than knight, and it will definitely take more than his clashing clothes and social ineptitude to win the girl.

I've always enjoyed the Lauren Willig books for their mix of contemporary romance, historical romance and espionage. I guess after seven books, I've grown used to this mix. A friend pointed out that one of Ms Willig's plots was derivative of a Georgette Heyer title but that hasn't kept me from following her work. Fans of Ms Willig will note the absence of Eloise and Colin in this title but I didn't mind at all since there is still plenty to rave about here.

The Mischief of the Mistletoe is the fifth book in the Pink Carnation series, at least chronologically speaking (it was written after Books 6 and 7). It features Turnip Fitzhugh, a character who turns up in The Masque of the Black Tulip and is finally given a novel of his own. It is the holidays, and Turnip is visiting his sister at Miss Climpson's Select Seminary for Young Ladies, where he literally runs into Arabella Dempsey, the new instructress. In the rush of activity around the school, they come into possession of a Christmas pudding with a mysterious note. Their curiosity gets them embroiled not only in each others' lives, but also in a plot to save the nation's secrets from getting into the wrong hands.

In this book, Jane Austen waltzes in as Arabella's best friend. In fact, it is intimated here that Ms Austen's unfinished work The Watsons is inspired by Arabella's situation. She was expected to be adopted by a rich aunt, but when Aunt Osborne decides to marry someone half her age, Arabella is sent back home to the country. To augment her family's income, she takes a teaching job at Miss Climpson's, not knowing how this is about to change her life. I really enjoyed this device.

But what makes this a winner in my book is Turnip himself, certainly a different kind of romantic lead. He is far from the dark and brooding type, he dresses outlandishly, and he unintentionally creates humorous situations for himself. One of my favorite romance titles, Jude Deveraux's The Raider, features a similarly foppish character, but in that book, the colorful dandy is merely a front for the timeworn dark and brooding stereotype. But Turnip Fitzhugh is really cut from a different cloth. What you see is what you get: a genuinely endearing and guileless romantic lead. His manner of speaking is markedly different from other heroes in the Pink Carnation series. He is also a very learned man, but Ms Willig allows the readers to discover this for themselves, rather than have another character point out how clever he can be. I like that everyone else (except Arabella, of course) tends to dismiss him as a buffoon.

It's lovely to see a hero who can genuinely make a woman laugh and swoon. There were so many times that I smiled throughout the text. Not only did Turnip and Arabella get themselves into a lot of amusing situations, and bumbling through their encounters with French spies and their own feelings. Reading this was a heart-melting experience, not at all far from what I'd feel after seeing a cute dog. Very refreshing.

Arabella's wards at Miss Climpson's are also a delightful addition to the Pink Carnation family (and I do mean family -- a trio of friends here are the younger relatives of old Willig leads). I hope I'll see more from them in latter books, but since there are only two left, this wish might be a longshot.

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation (Lauren Willig)

Procrastination, thy name is Chris. I had finished Lauren Willig's The History of the Pink Carnation and The Masque of the Black Tulip in less than a day since I borrowed them from Oz a few weeks back, but I was too preoccupied with other matters (like the naming of dogs and the purchasing of blue hair dye) to write. I suppose some books can wait to be reviewed. But here, my first historical romance review. Reviews, I mean.

I started out with Ms. Willig's Pink Carnation only because it's logical to begin with the first book in any trilogy, even if it was the plot of the second book that I liked better. Still, first things first. Meg Cabot calls the book a "genre-bending read" since it has two love stories in one. Not quite genre-bending in my book (nor highly original: think Possession, The Conjurer's Bird or, if you want to stick to the historical romance genre, Remembrance), but still very much worth the read if you like this sort of thing. And I do. So, yay.

Pink Carnation introduces us to Eloise Kelly, who is England to finish her dissertation on aristocratic espionage. Research, research, meets descendant of one of her topics, earns access to private journals, meets dashing but snooty grandson, sparks. Anyway, she learns about the identity of the Pink Carnation via the letters of Amy Balcourt, who wants to join the league of aristocratic spies (not because it was fashionable at that time). Amy meets the dashing Purple Gentian, meets his alter-ego Lord Richard Selwick, sparks. Also, they foil Napoleon's plans to invade England. See, I have no qualms of spoiling it all this way because we all know how these things end anyway. But more importantly, the book also introduces us to Richard's sister Henrietta, and his best friend Miles Dorrington.

Which brings us to Ms. Willig's Black Tulip. I liked Pink Carnation fair enough, but it wasn't outstandingly memorable. I must confess that I read the genre for the romance, not for its historical accuracy, so I do look for something unique about the main pair. In Pink Carnation's case, I was unforgivingly comparing it to Jude Deveraux's The Raider, whose characters, I thought, had more charm and appeal.

But Black Tulip is one of the very few romance novels I've ever read that featured a pair who were actually friends--and that in itself is memorable. It convincingly chronicles how Henrietta and Miles grow from childhood friends to lovers amidst the spying and the double-dealing going on. They argue, they get jealous, they kiss, they get confused. Wonderful pair, rerally. True, Pink Carnation had more of the spy stuff, but inevitably, it was towards Miles and Hen's tandem that I gravitated. My only (tiny) complaint about Black Tulip was that it had more of Eloise and Colin (the said dashing yet snooty grandson, who by this time isn't at all snooty, but of course we knew that). I guess I just wanted more Miles and Hen.

Despite my complaints, Ms. Willig writes fine historical romances. She shies away from the simpering female stereotype so common in this genre and manages to create situations where you don't question why her heroines don't always follow what society expects of them. And when it comes to historical accuracy, I don't think I'll be second-guessing Ms. Willig, who is a candidate for a PhD in history at Harvard. I could, you know, read up on this interesting period, but like i said: procrastination.