Product Description

The Honourable Christopher Fancot is forced into an outrageous masquerade by the tangled affairs of his wayward family.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #862707 in Books
• Published on: 2005-07-26
• Released on: 2005-07-26
• Format: Import
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 320 pages

Review
Filled with some very unexpected surprises and quirky characters, I kept a smile on my face several minutes after I finished the novel. False Colours is not only a book written about the romance between Kit and Cressy, but also about relationships, duty and the power of love that sends a strong, warm message throughout the book. (Shellie Queue My Review )

Heyer's eye for detail, character development, and talent for moving a story along is masterful... For sheer fun and entertainment, I highly recommend this novel and give it my highest rating of three regency fans. (Vic Sandborn Jane Austen Today )

About the Author
Georgette Heyer, who wrote over fifty novels died in 1974.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Excerpt from Chapter 1

It was past two o'clock when the job-chaise turned into Hill Street; and, as the watchman wending his way round Berkeley Square monotonously announced, a fine night. A full moon rode in the cloudless sky, dimming the street-lamps: even, as the solitary traveller had noticed, in Pall Mall, where gaslighting had replaced the oil-burners. Linkmen, carriages, and light streaming from an open door on the east side of Berkeley Square indicated that not all the members of the ton had left London; but at the end of June the Season was drawing to a close; and it did not surprise the traveller to find Hill Street deserted. It would not have surprised him if the knocker had been removed from the door of a certain house on the north side of the street, but when the chaise drew up a swift scrutiny reassured him: the Earl of Denville's town residence had not yet been abandoned for the summer months. The traveller, a young man, wearing a tasselled and corded Polish greatcoat, and a shallow-crowned beaver, sprang down from the chaise, dragged a bulging portmanteau from the floor of this vehicle, set it down on the flagway, and pulled out his purse. The postboys paid, he picked up the portmanteau, trod up the steps to the front-door, and gave the iron bell-pull a tug.

By the time the last echo of the clapper died away the chaise had disappeared, but no one had responded to the bell's summons. The traveller gave it a second, and more vigorous, tug. He heard it clanging somewhere in the nether regions, but was forced to conclude, after waiting for several minutes, that it had failed to rouse any of my lord's servants.

He considered the matter. It was possible, though unlikely, that the household had removed from London without taking the knocker from the door, or shuttering the windows. To verify that the windows had not been shuttered he retreated to the flagway, and scanned the house, perceiving that not only were all the windows unshuttered but that one of them, on the entrance-floor, had been left open a few inches at the top. This gave, as he knew, on to the dining-room; and to reach it presented a lithe and determined young man with no insuperable difficulty. Divesting himself of his greatcoat, and trusting that no watchman would come down the street in time to observe his clandestine entry, he proceeded to demonstrate to the uninterested moon that Colonel Dan Mackinnon, of the
Coldstream Guards, was not without a rival in the art of perilous climbing.

No such thought entered the Hon. Christopher Fancot's head: he was not acquainted with Colonel Mackinnon; and he did not think the feat of reaching the desired window-sill either dangerous or difficult. Once there it was easy to thrust up the lower sash, and to swing himself into the room. A couple of minutes later he emerged into the hall, where, upon a marble-topped side-table, he found a lamp burning low, with an unlit candle in a silver holder standing beside it. Observing these objects with an intelligent eye, Mr Fancot concluded that their noble owner had told his servants not to wait up for him. The subsequent discovery that the front-door was unbolted confirmed him in this belief. As he opened the door, to retrieve his belongings from the porch, he reflected, with an inward chuckle, that when his lordship did come home at last he would find his bed occupied by a most unlooked-for visitor, and would in all probability think that he was a great deal boskier than he had supposed.

On this thought, which appeared, from the mischievous smile which played about the corners of his mouth, to afford Mr Fancot amusement, he kindled the candle at the lamp's low flame, and made his way towards the staircase.

He went softly up, the candlestick held in one hand, his port¬manteau in the other, and his greatcoat flung over his shoulder. No creaking stair betrayed him, but as he rounded the bend in the second flight a door opened on the floor above, and a voice said anxiously: 'Evelyn?'

He looked up, seeing, in the light of a bedroom-candle held aloft in a fragile hand, a feminine form enveloped in a cloud of lace, which was caught together by ribbons of the palest green satin. From under a nightcap of charming design several ringlets the colour of ripe corn had been allowed to escape. The gentleman on the stairs said appreciatively:'What a fetching cap, love!'

The vision thus addressed heaved a sigh of relief, but said, with a gurgle of laughter:'You absurd boy! Oh, Evelyn, I'm so thankful you've come, but what in the world has detained you? I've been sick with apprehension!'

There was a quizzical gleam in the gentleman's eyes, but he said in accents of deep reproach: 'Come, come, Mama – !'

'It may be very well for you to say Come, come, Mama,' she retorted, 'but when you faithfully promised to return not a day later than –' She broke off, staring down at him in sudden doubt.

Abandoning the portmanteau, the gentleman shrugged the greatcoat from his shoulder, pulled off his hat, and mounted the remaining stairs two at a time, saying still more reproachfully: 'No, really, Mama! How can you be so unnatural a parent?'

'Kit!' uttered his unnatural parent, in a smothered shriek.'Oh, my darling, my dearest son!'

Mr Fancot, receiving his widowed mama on his bosom, caught her in a comprehensive hug, but said, on a note of laugh¬ter: 'Oh, what a rapper! I'm not your dearest son!'

Standing on tiptoe to kiss his lean cheek, and dropping wax from her tilted candle down the sleeve of his coat, Lady Denville replied with dignity that she had never felt the smallest prefer¬ence for either of her twin sons.

'Of course not! How should you, when you can't tell us apart?' said Mr Fancot, prudently removing the candlestick from her grasp.

'I can tell you apart!' she declared. 'If I had expected to see you I should have recognized you instantly! The thing was, I thought you were in Vienna.'

'No, I'm here,' said Mr Fancot, smiling lovingly down at her. 'Stewart gave me leave of absence: are you pleased?'

'Oh, no, not a bit!' she said, tucking her hand in his arm, and drawing him into her bedchamber.' Let me look at you, wicked one! Oh, I can't see you properly! Light all the candles, dearest, and then we may be comfortable. The money that is spent on candles in this house! I shouldn't have thought it possible if Dinting hadn't shown me the chandler's bill which, I must say, I wish she had not, for what, I ask you, Kit, is the use of know¬ing the cost of candles? One must have them, after all, and even your father never desired me to purchase tallow ones.'

'I suppose one might burn fewer,' remarked Kit, applying a taper to some half-dozen which stood in two chandeliers on the dressing-table.

'No, no, nothing more dismal than an ill-lit room! Light the ones on the mantelpiece, dearest! Yes, that is much better! Now come and tell me all about yourself !'

She had drifted over to an elegant day-bed, and patted it invit¬ingly, but Kit did not immediately obey the summons. He stood looking about him at the scene he had illumined, exclaiming: 'Why, how is this, Mama? You were used to live in a rose-garden, and now one would think oneself at the bottom of the sea!'

Customer Reviews

A unique take on the mistaken identity, twins story, another Heyer gem!
I have read and loved a few Georgette Heyer novels and each novel is better than the last one I'd read. The last Heyer novel I read was Sprig Muslin and it was one of the best Regency novels I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Well, False Colours is my new favorite novel by this wonderful author. False Colours tells the story of a young army officer who visits his home after he gets the unsettling feeling that his twin brother, the Earl of Denville, is in some kind of trouble. When he arrives to his family's London home, he discovers that his twin brother has been missing for over a week. Kit is forced to attend a soiree in which he will ask for a young woman's hand in marriage. Things get complicated when his brother's intended fancies herself in love with this much nicer, more charming fiance, but he cannot stop the charade because a marriage has to take place in order to pay for his mother's many gambling debts. But what will happen to Kit and Cressy? Will they fall in love? And what of Kit's twin brother? What transpires is a story of mistaken identity with plenty of laughs and unexpected surprises. There are various twists throughout the novel.

This has got to be one of the funniest novels ever written! Heyer's humor is priceless. The characters are hilarious and quirky and their one-liners are wonderful. The novel is written in the form of a Regency comic farce with oddball situations and colorful characters that characterize this brand of comedy. I love Kit's mother! She sort of reminds me of Pride and Prejudice's Mrs. Bennett. And I love the humor centered on the valets, butlers, grooms and other servants. Theirs is the kind of quirkiness and nosiness that I imagine existed among the servants at their masters' homes. Brilliant! But what I love the most is Kit. It is so refreshing to read about a hero who is neither a misogynist, a rake or a tortured soul (though I do like the latter). He is just a sweet, intelligent, serious, honorable and handsome man who loves his family. Cressy, the heroine, is also wonderful, but less "spirited" than other Heyer heroines. As for the historical aspects and references, I have commented on the author's eye for historical detail and accuracy in the other reviews I've written of her work, but I am again impressed with her ability to create Regency England as I'm sure the aforementioned time period had been. She is by far the only Regency romance writer who is almost 100% faithful to the period in not only writing precise details and descriptions but also with the language. I get so tired of reading characters in historical novels that sound more like modern-day, twenty-something-year-old people smacking gum while uttering the latest slang words and phrases. Heyer was an early to mid twentieth century writer, which is probably why her novels sound classic (and they are in fact classics), but I feel that some of today's historical writers should get their clues from this wonderful author. False Colours is a gem and I cannot recommend this hilarious, romantic novel enough.

My favorite Heyer!
In Regency England, a younger son/army officer, Kit, travels home upon the feeling that something has happened to his twin brother, the Earl of Denville. He finds his charming and scatterbrained mother worried to death, as Denville has been absent from home for 10 days; this very night, Denville is to go to a family party at the home of his soon-to-be intended wife in order to obtain the consent of her eccentric and sharp-tongued grandmother. The mother, while not wanting Denville to sacrifice himself on the altar of a marriage of convenience, nevertheless is anxious for the marriage, as Denville's trustees will release his fortune to him upon his marriage; this will allow her extravagant debts to be paid. Kit is persuaded to take Denville's place just for this one night in order that Cressy, the lovely and kind young lady in question, is not dealt the unforgiveable insult of Denville's absence from the "engagement" party.

Complications and fiascos ensue, supported by a multitude of minor characters.......grooms, former nannys, butlers, valets, elderly suitors......that spring fully to life with witty dialog through Heyer's pen. It is to be expected that Kit (as Denville) and Cressy fall in love; she can't imagine why she likes him so much better now than before! It needs only Denville's return, with his arm in a sling, to further complicate this funny and heartwarming story.

One of My Favorite Heyers!
I discovered Georgette Heyer in about 1970 and this is still one of my favorites. The mother of the twins is one of those charming shatterbrains that Heyer characterizes so well, complete with all the wonderfully tangled circumstances into which she has embroiled herself. Kit, the twin who forms the main part of the story, is the underplayed hero - younger son, serious, willing to step in for his missing twin to help save his brother's engagement. Then of course there's the fiance and her dragon of a grandmother. Heyer froth at its best! Winning characters, unexpected situations, and denouments that keep you guessing.