In her first two regency novels, Martha Waters proved herself to be a deft hand at writing farce. Both books included elaborate set ups: In To Have and to Hoax, a wife fakes illness to attract the attention of her estranged husband; in To Love and to Loathe, a widow makes a rake a bet that he will be married by the end of the year—then agrees to tutor him in the art of pleasing a woman. In both books, drama and hilarity ensue. It is therefore fitting that To Marry and to Meddle, the third book in her ongoing series, takes place partially in a theater.
Let me set the stage: It has been six seasons since Lady Emily Turner’s debut, and although she is known by all as the perfect lady, her father’s debts have prevented her from finding a match. In fact, rather than mix and mingle with eligible gentlemen, she finds herself stuck at every society event with Oswald Cartham, the odious man who holds her father’s gambling debts. Meanwhile, Lord Julian Belfry wants to prove to his father—and society, but mostly his father—that he is capable of elevating the reputation of the notorious theater he owns.
The solution to both of their problems: Marriage to one another. Julian can pay off Emily’s father’s debts, while Emily’s sterling reputation will surely rescue Julian’s, and that of his theater. They agree that theirs will be a marriage of convenience—Emily’s only stipulation is that Julian never lie to her about feelings that he doesn’t have.
In some ways, the plot of To Marry and to Meddle is the least farcical of Waters’ books so far. Emily and Julian are not, after all, lying about anything to anyone, except about their growing feelings for one another. That said, there is still plenty of room for comedy, much of it centered around a cute but fearsome—satanic, according to Julian—kitten whose appearance in their inn room inflicts some damage and delays the consummation of their marriage by several nights.
Emily’s closest friends (Violet and Diana, the two heroines of To Have and to Hoax and To Love and to Loathe) are also a source of levity, especially as Diana plots the most outrageous outfit possible for her groom to wear on his wedding day. The horrific yellow jacket that makes Diana’s husband look like a tulip is ultimately crucial to Emily and Julian finding a way to admit their deepening feelings to one another—a perfect example of Waters’ elegant stitching of comedy and love.
“I don’t think comedies need to—to be about anything important, to be worthy of merit,” Emily says to Julian in the aftermath of seeing a less-than-perfect play at his theater. Emily and Julian are discussing his attempts to elevate his theater’s reputation, but it sounds also like the author’s voice emerging through her character’s. While I agree that weighting down Much Ado About Nothing with unnecessary additions (as Julian tries to do) is not a great idea, and that comedy is worthy of merit, I have one quibble: What, after all, is more important than love and laughter?
Read This if You Liked:
Something Fabulous by Alexis Hall (for the banter)
Sweetest Scoundrel by Elizabeth Hoyt (for the theatrical elements)
First Comes Scandal by Julia Quinn (for the cats)
Also by Martha Waters:
And coming in 2023, To Swoon and to Spar