Lord Ambrose, whose mother was Greek, was drawn into that country’s war for independence where he suffered a near mortal wound. Despite his sentiments on the equality of man, he very quickly lets the reader know of his peerage. Even with Belos, the man who tended to his wounds and nursed him back to health, Malfine is a snob, teasing the man for his lack of horsemanship. Formerly, Belos was an actor but now serves as valet to the lord - a relationship which is difficult to determine.

There is reference to Elizabeth, an English widow about Malfine’s age and a young boy, heir to a great fortune both of whom live on the estate. Somehow they are tied to Malfine but the author fails to clarify the connection either because she expects everyone to know from the previous book or she doesn’t care to enlighten new readers. Because of this lapse, her hero remains distant. The story unfolds in a series of letters so it is little wonder that Malfine’s egotism is reinforced by his constant refernces to himself and his abilities and resources.

Murdoch Sandys, the local physician, is pleased with Malfine’s improved health but suggests that some time in a warmer climate might facilitate recovery. So the lord is considering this proposal when he finds himself drawn into the affairs of his neighbor, Lilian Westmorland, the seventeen year only child of a friend who died in an accident when she was a baby. Now she is orphaned and under the guardianship of her maternal uncle, who seems to be up to no good. As her father died as a result of a dare put forth by Lord Ambrose, he feels an obligation to see to her.

Her plight comes to his attention when she is injured in a riding accident and Sandys is called to attend her. He mentions the incident to Malfine who stops by to pay his regards and is troubled to learn the faithful groom was dismissed and the horse destroyed. Michael Overbury, Lilian’s uncle employs Casterman, an impudent pox-marked thug whose demeanor raises Malfine’s hackles. In keeping with his snobbery, Malfine shows no sympathy to the man’s disfigurement merely considering it comparable to the man’s temperament.

When Lilian is sent to Egypt to recuperate, Malfine takes his doctor’s suggestion and makes that his destination also. He fears the heiress’s fortune may prove too tempting for her guardian and vows to protect her even without her knowledge. So he is off but not before the reader is made aware of his egalitarianism with the local gypsies whom he allows to camp on his grounds, his proficiency in Arabic and weaponry and his superlative steed whose swiftness defies any carriage. Did I mention that he has the foresight to arm himself in another manner which is evident as the plot thickens? I give you a hint - the year is 1830.

In Egypt Malfine not only rescues the damsel in distress but thwarts a plot Overbury and Casterman have concocted. The reader must suspend his disbelief a number of times as Malfine proves his omniscience over and over. As neither he nor any of the characters is the least bit appealing, it is a waste of time. Yes, there is a legal and historical precedent for Overbury’s scheme but it is too fantastical for credibility. Indeed, the reward hardly seems to make it worthwhile. Only the hapless Lilian and Belos are awed by some of Malfine’s discoveries. Any mystery reader will have already made the same conclusions.

Perhaps I am soured by the comparisons to Byron, a gifted poet who was nearly devoid of moral development but Lord Ambrose Malfine will not become a favored character to this reader. He lacks the wit of Baroness Orczy’s Scarlet Pimpernel whose escapades occurred only a few decades earlier and the demeanor of Zorro who will go about fighting injustice in Old California a decade hence.

--Jane Davis