My mom got me reading Regency romance novels during my prepubescence. By far, the best is Georgette Heyer. Not a year goes by without me reading through These Old Shades. Featuring the dauntless and bloodthirsty Léonie. There's actually a chase sequence that includes a Channel crossing. Monseigneur's deadly showdown in a salon with the Pig Person is a hoot. Only in a Regency will the climax occur at a soirée with a fan and snuffbox used to chilling effect.
When I took the SATs, the verbal part included all these formal and obsolete words that no one ever used. Except for writers of girl-meets-lord tales. They are extremely blanched versions of Austen. The Brontës can't even be mentioned because of their innate darkness and sexuality. By no means are Regencies bodice-rippers (porn for bookworms). A churlish leer is as hot and heavy as it gets in these haughty pages. What they lack in heavy petting and thrusting hips, Regencies more than make up for with horse talk, park excursions and tickets for Almack's.
This is why I know how to spell these examples of out-of-date wordage (thanks Karl):
- soirée (duh)
- phaeton
- puce
- blancmange
- snuff
- claret
Ick. Nast. How far I have fallen.
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