The Black Moth: A Romance of the Xviiith Century
1921
The Black Moth: A Romance of the Xviiith Century
1921
Georgette Heyer wrote The Black Moth at seventeen. Let that sink in. In 1921, a teenager sat down and produced a swashbuckling romance so assured, so fizzing with wit and historical texture, that it announced one of the great genre voices of the twentieth century. The result feels less like a beginner's exercise and more like a masterclass in escapism: handsome villains, imperiled heroines, masked highwaymen, and a duel or two for good measure. The story opens with Jack Carstares, a gentleman blackmailed by his own brother Richard into taking the fall for a card cheat. Disgraced, he flees England, only to return years later in disguise as the mysterious Black Moth, a highwayman with a reputation for robbing cads and rescuing damsels. His path collides with the Duke of Andover, a proud aristocrat with his own secrets, and the stage is set for kidnapping, revelation, and the kind of romance that blooms exactly when everything seems lost. This is historical romance stripped to its purest form: clever, breathless, and unafraid to be deliciously absurd. It remains essential for anyone who wants to see where Heyer's legendary Regency novels began.
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“I do not like your name, sir,” she answered.“There was no thought of pleasing you when I was christened.” he quoted lazily.””
— Georgette Heyer
“She was up again at that."In love? You? Nonsense! Nonsense! Nonsense! You do not know what the word means. You are like a--like a fish, with no more love in you than a fish, and no more heart than a fish, and--""Spare me the rest, I beg. I am very clammy, I make no doubt, but you will at least accord me more brain than a fish?””
— Georgette Heyer
“Mr Carr, if the lady... loved you...is it quite fair to her-to say nothing?"There was a long silence and then my lord lied bravely."I hope that she will - in time- forget me," he said.Diana sat very still. No more roses were destroyed; the breeze wafted the fallen petals over her feet, lightly, playfully. Somewhere in the hedge a bird was singing, a full-throated sobbing plaint, and from all around came an incessant chirping and twittering. The sun sent its bright rays all over the garden,bathing it in gold and happiness; but for the two in the pleasaunce the light had gone out , and the world was very black.””
— Georgette Heyer
“Humble myself? 'Fore Gad, you must be mad!""Belike I am; but I tell you Tracy, that if your passion is love, 'tis a strange one that puts yourself first. I would not give a snap of a finger for it! You want this girl, not for her happiness, but for your own pleasure. That is not the love I once told you would save you from yourself. When it comes, you will count yourself as naught; you will realise your own insignificance, and above all, be ready to make any sacrifice for her sake. Yes, even to the point of losing her!””
— Georgette Heyer
“I am unreasonable! I know it, but don't me so, for I cannot bear it!””
— Georgette Heyer
“My lord consigned the doctor and his words of wisdom to a place of great heat””
— Georgette Heyer
“My dear Lavinia, like all Belmanoirs, you care first for yourself and secondly for the man who masters you. That, alas! Richard has not yet succeeded in doing." "But I do love Richard. I do, I do, yet”
— Georgette Heyer
“Richard paused. He drew his hand across his eyes, shuddering. “Milward saw the scratch. He cried out that the cards were marked! Suddenly everyone seemed to be gathered about our table”
— Georgette Heyer
