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Love in a Cold Climate (Radlett and Montdore Book 2) Kindle Edition
Polly Hampton has long been groomed for the perfect marriage by her mother, the fearsome and ambitious Lady Montdore. But Polly, with her stunning good looks and impeccable connections, is bored by the monotony of her glittering debut season in London. Having just come from India, where her father served as Viceroy, she claims to have hoped that society in a colder climate would be less obsessed with love affairs.
The apparently aloof and indifferent Polly has a long-held secret, however, one that leads to the shattering of her mother’s dreams and her own disinheritance. When an elderly duke begins pursuing the disgraced Polly and a callow potential heir curries favor with her parents, nothing goes as expected, but in the end all find happiness in their own unconventional ways.
Featuring an introduction by Flora Fraser.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherVintage
- Publication dateAugust 10, 2010
- File size627 KB
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I am obliged to begin this story with a brief account of the Hampton family, because it is necessary to emphasise the fact once and for all that the Hamptons were very grand as well as very rich. A short session with Burke or with Debrett would be quite enough to make this clear, but these large volumes are not always available, while the books on the subject by Lord Montdore’s brother-in-law, Boy Dougdale, are all out of print. His great talent for snobbishness and small talent for literature have produced three detailed studies of his wife’s forebears, but they can only be read now by asking a bookseller to get them at second hand. (The bookseller will put an advertisement in his trade paper, The Clique: “H. Dougdale, any by.” He will be snowed under with copies at about a shilling each and will then proudly inform his customer that he has “managed to find what you want,” implying hours of careful search on barrows, dirt cheap, at 30/- the three.) Georgiana Lady Montdore and Her Circle, The Magnificent Montdores and Old Chronicles of Hampton, I have them beside me as I write, and see that the opening paragraph of the first is:
“Two ladies, one dark, one fair, both young and lovely, were driving briskly towards the little village of Kensington on a fine Maymorning. They were Georgiana, Countess of Montdore and her great friend Walburga, Duchess of Paddington, and they made a delightfully animated picture as they discussed the burning question of the hour—should one or should one not subscribe to a parting present for poor dear Princess Lieven?”
This book is dedicated, by gracious permission, to Her Royal Highness, the Grand Duchess Peter of Russia, and has eight full-page illustrations.
It must be said that when this trilogy first came out it had quite a vogue with the lending-library public.
“The family of Hampton is ancient in the West of England, indeed Fuller, in his Worthies mentions it as being of stupendous antiquity.”
Burke makes it out just a shade more ancient than does Debrett, but both plunge back into the mists of mediaeval times from which they drag forth ancestors with P. G. Wodehouse names, Ugs and Berts and Threds, and Walter Scott fates. “His Lordship was attainted—beheaded—convicted—proscribed—exiled—dragged from prison by a furious mob—slain at the Battle of Crécy—went down in the White Ship—perished during the third crusade—killed in a duel.” There were very few natural deaths to record in the early misty days. Both Burke and Debrett linger with obvious enjoyment over so genuine an object as this family, unspoilt by the ambiguities of female line and deed poll. Nor could any of those horrid books, which came out in the nineteenth century, devoted to research and aiming to denigrate the nobility, make the object seem less genuine. Tall, golden-haired barons, born in wedlock and all looking very much alike, succeeded each other at Hampton, on lands which had never been bought or sold, generation after generation until, in 1770, the Lord Hampton of the day brought back, from a visit to Versailles, a French bride, a Mademoiselle de Montdore. Their son had brown eyes, a dark skin and presumably, for it is powdered in all the pictures of him, black hair. This blackness did not persist in the family. He married a golden-haired heiress from Derbyshire, and the Hamptons reverted to their blue-and-gold looks, for which they are famous to this day. The son of the Frenchwoman was rather clever and very worldly; he dabbled in politics and wrote a book of aphorisms, but his chief claim to fame was his great and lifelong friendship with the Regent, which procured him, among other favours, an earldom. His mother’s family having all perished during the Terror in France, he took her name as his title. Enormously rich, he spent enormously; he had a taste for French objects of art and acquired, during the years which followed the Revolution, a splendid collection of such things, including many pieces from the royal establishments, and others which had been looted out of the Hotel de Montdore in the rue de Varenne. To make a suitable setting for this collection, he then proceeded to pull down at Hampton the large plain house that Adam had built for his grandfather and to drag over to England stone by stone (as modern American millionaires are supposed to do) a Gothic French chateau. This he assembled round a splendid tower of his own designing, covered the walls of the rooms with French panelling and silks and set it in a formal landscape which he also designed and planted himself. It was all very grand and very mad, and in the between wars period of which I write, very much out of fashion. “I suppose it is beautiful,” people used to say, “but frankly I don’t admire it.”
This Lord Montdore also built Montdore House in Park Lane and a castle on a crag in Aberdeenshire. He was really much the most interesting and original character the family produced, but no member of it deviated from a tradition of authority. A solid, worthy, powerful Hampton can be found on every page of English history, his influence enormous in the West of England and his counsels not unheeded in London.
The tradition was carried on by the father of my friend, Polly Hampton. If an Englishman could be descended from the gods it would be he, so much the very type of English nobleman that those who believed in aristocratic government would always begin by pointing to him as a justification of their argument. It was generally felt, indeed, that if there were more people like him the country would not be in its present mess, even Socialists conceding his excellence, which they could afford to do since there was only one of him and he was getting on. A scholar, a Christian, a gentleman, finest shot in the British Isles, best-looking Viceroy we ever sent to India, a popular landlord, a pillar of the Conservative Party, a wonderful old man, in short, who nothing common ever did or mean. My cousin Linda and I, two irreverent little girls whose opinion makes no odds, used to think that he was a wonderful old fraud, and it seemed to us that in that house it was Lady Montdore who really counted. Now Lady Montdore was forever doing common things and mean, and she was intensely unpopular, quite as much disliked as her husband was loved, so that anything he might do that was considered not quite worthy of him, or which did not quite fit in with his reputation, was immediately laid at her door. “Of course she made him do it.” On the other hand, I have often wondered whether without her to bully him and push him forward and plot and intrigue for him and “make him do it,” whether, in fact, without the help of those very attributes which caused her to be so much disliked, her thick skin and ambition and boundless driving energy, he would ever have done anything at all noteworthy in the world.
Product details
- ASIN : B003F3PLBC
- Publisher : Vintage; 1st edition (August 10, 2010)
- Publication date : August 10, 2010
- Language : English
- File size : 627 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Not Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Sticky notes : On Kindle Scribe
- Print length : 258 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #389,739 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #560 in Humorous Literary Fiction
- #2,308 in Historical Literary Fiction
- #3,056 in Contemporary Literary Fiction
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The novel was funny and witty, moving along at a good pace, and compelling the reader forward to see what would happen next. I read it in two sittings. Mitford’s own upbringing within the context of the upper crust, (although her childhood was fraught with issues), allowed her to be fluent in every aspect of the lifestyles, social nuances, and history of the period. I enjoyed her sense of humor throughout the plot line. Her book is like a literary cartoon of the period, both amusing and entertaining.
One thing I found funny, alluded to several times, was the strong
disdain for “Colonials” [those of British parentage born and raised in North America] despite the fact it had been around 155 years from the time of American Revolution to the book’s time period setting.
As I read the last few paragraphs the expression “all’s well that ends well” immediately came to mind. In some ways this novel echoed that comedy, farce, and subtexts of the play, albeit perhaps not intentionally. The naturalism of “the human comedy” is at play here with a narrator who describes more than judges aspects of human behavior. Anyone interested in 1930s British aristocracy, or having an interest in the Mitford sisters and the milieu of their upbringing will likely enjoy the book as I did.
The plot is a series of events connecting a group of wildly eccentric upper class Brits in the late 1920's and early 1930's -- people, one assumes, much like Ms. Mitford's friends and family. The one sensible member of the cast is the narrator, Fanny, who starts off the novel with a visit to her very grand relations at Hampton. These include the beautiful Polly Hampton, only child of Lord and Lady Montdore. Polly refuses to fall in love with anyone, and in time it is revealed that she has been in love with someone supremely inappropriate since the age of fourteen. After that events unravel and the plot thickens, until it is all resolved rather shockingly at the end.
The key characters are surprising rounded, given their eccentricities and at times improbable emotions, and the setting is fascinating. But there is that coldness at the heart: it is about love, but so much of the love is the kind that finds its object in a mirror. It's an enjoyable read, and I will certainly read Ms. Mitford's "Pursuit of Love". Its not a novel, however, to which I will return for emotional connection.
Originally published in 1949, Love in a Cold Climate is a comedy of manners that revolves around the naughty Polly Montdore, whose scandalous marriage left her disinherited, and her Canadian cousin Cedric Hampton, the heir apparent.
The action of both this and its prequel, The Pursuit of Love, run concurrently, taking place between the wars, with everyone's favorite cousin, Fanny Wincham, serving as impartial narrator.
Aside from an engaging storyline, tart wit and charming prose style, Love in a Cold Climate is of particular relevance to gay readers for the no nonsense presentation of the flamboyantly aesthetic Cedric, who is thoroughly and unrepentantly gay. He is a rather heroic character (not at all tragic like poor Sebastian Flyte from Brideshead Revisited and so many other gays of pre-Stonewall literature), possessed of great personal magnetism and self-esteem; and though his open homosexuality alternately shocks and delights society, he ultimately proves a great catalyst for happiness and reconciliation in the lives of those closest to him.
The story itself is fun and light-hearted. It definitely captures a moment in time.