Lord John and the Private Matter (Lord John Grey Series) Book

I resisted reading any Lord John stories for a very long time, despite being a huge Gabaldon fan. I just couldn't get behind a gay lead, didn't understand the appeal or potential of this character. I didn't get it, without even trying it. Recently I saw Gabaldon at a sci-fi convention, and to get in the mood for it, I dug out this book, which I had snagged at a library discard sale for a buck or so.

I get it now. He's delightful. Imagine a slight, blonde, aristocratic, rich, devastatingly smart and witty professional soldier, a Major in Her Majesty's service in 1757, who finds himself up to his impeccable chin in murder, mayhem, and mystery. It's like both William Powell and Myrna Loy (of the old Thin Man movies) rolled into one character, with a touch of television's Monk thrown in.

Fun! He is so particular about his clothes and appearance and there's this running subconscious dialogue interspersed with the bigger external picture unfolding in his head that goes something like this: "Ah, ha, so the Scanlons have flown the coop which must be a big clue!...and I seem to have lost a button on my waistcoat." He is always picking at a loose thread, flicking lint on his shoulder, noticing every detail around him. You can just picture his futzing.

He is also very adept at the dry one-word reply - indubiously, quite, likely, mayhaps. I really enjoyed it, and should have had more trust in her unbelievable writing talent. Interestingly, the one "sex scene" involving Lord John was very well-done, compelling, and poignant and definitely germane to the story. He simply loses himself, tastefully fades to black, and whispers "Pretend…I am not here." And I truly believe he wishes it were so.

Contrast his fastidious personal quirks with his loathsome outward duty, and you've got a very entertaining setup. He is the only one in the room who will sink his fingers into the mushy scalp of a corpse for a clue or carry around the reeking blood-soaked remnant of a garment with which to confront the bad guy. Then there's his fiercely protective little side kick, a ragamuffin English boy who follows him around and insists that he be his valet. The little boy is just as comical, giving "me lord" the steely eye as he makes him drink MANY egg whites as a poison antidote and tries to mend his endlessly destroyed clothes.

I can't wait to read more Lord John. Undoubtedly.