Book the ninth in The Morland Dynasty seems to be a bit of a outlier in that there's no great single drama driving the story as with previous novels, no villainous vixen pushing her way to the front of the book. Instead, one could almost call this a "boring" novel in that it's a simply series of Morland family vignettes interspersed with British, European, and now, American history.
We have the main Morland branch, headed by Jemima, blissfully married to Allen MacAllen these twelve years (the book starts off in September, 1773), still struggling to reclaim the glory of Morland Place from the ravages and near-bankruptcy it was brought to by Jemima's first husband, Rupert, the 4th Earl of Chelmsford. Then there's Henri Marie FitzJames Stuart, the bastard offshoot from Annunciata's side of the family, the hidden-away son of Marie-Louise, brought up in France by Aliena as a way for her to absolve herself of her sins and in hope this particular branch of the family - with its terrible secrets - might die. And then we have Charles Morland, Jemima's cousin who crosses the Atlantic to settle in Maryland, wedding the indolent Creole beauty Eugenie-Francoise de Courcey and realizing that, perhaps, marrying for beauty alone is not the wisest of moves. In this way we are able to watch the biggest event of this period's history, the American Revolution, unfold from three separate viewpoints. Even more interesting, we American readers can see the Revolution from the British viewpoint, providing a curious and entirely new perspective on our history. From the French side of things, we are given not just the aftermath of their participation in the American Revolution, but the nascent beginnings of their own Republican upheaval to come, as the philosophies which began as idle pastimes in aristocratic salons filtered down to the bourgeoisie and proletariat, where they take root and flourish. With terrible consequences, as we soon find out.
One of the more enjoyable entries in the series, I found, simply because there was no harpy or virago stealing the spotlight and making the Morland's (and, by extension, the reader's) lives miserable. Jemima is almost disgustingly happy in her marriage, and while she's occasionally oblivious to her children and seems unable to connect with them at times, it's no different from the kind of crisis of parenting any parent, in any era, goes through. Parenting style aside, Jemima's strength, generosity, and character harks back to a much earlier matriarch of the family, Nanette Morland. Whether an accidental or a purposeful move by Harrod-Eagles, it's simply another way the thread of history runs through the Morland Dynasty.