At the center of the book is George “Beau” Brummell, one of the larger than life characters who graced this era. It was Brummell who set the standards for gentlemanly dress and behavior that endured for nearly 150 years. A gentleman’s clothes should be well-cut and fitted, but should be notable for their understated elegance rather than their flashy appearance. A gentleman should bathe regularly, change is linen often, and always have his emotions under control. A gentleman’s behavior should always be impeccable.

Brummell achieved his role as society’s arbiter not because of his wealth or social standing, but rather by virtue of his air of elegance and his friendship with the Prince of Wales, known familiarly as “Prinney.” In 1805, when The Tainted Snuff Box takes place, Prinney still retains some of the charm and good looks that earned him the title, “the First Gentleman of Europe.” However, his marital mishaps (he “married” two different women), his extravagance, and his growing girth have lost him some of the popularity he enjoyed in his youth. Thus, when he receives letters threatening his life, it does not seem completely improbable that someone would wish the prince harm.

Prinney flees London to his retreat in Brighton, where he surrounds himself with guards and employs a local man, Sir Simon, as voluntary taster. The Beau and others in society follow the prince to his seaside extravagance, the Pavilion, a building then in progress and executed with such monumental bad taste that it achieves a kind of unique attractiveness. One evening, after the ladies have retired and while the gentlemen are sitting over their port, Prinney insists on trying Lord Petersham’s new snuff mixture. Sir Simon in turn insists that he try the snuff first and, after one sniff, falls into his dessert plate, dead as the proverbial doornail.

Who in the august company around the table that evening could have poisoned the snuff? Since the box that contained the mixture had been placed on the sideboard earlier, any of the men could have tampered with it. Is the culprit Mr. Ainsely, who has a grudge against the prince? Could it possibly be Lord Perry or perhaps his Italian cousin? Would Lord St. Clair, a prominent politician, have any reason to murder the prince? And, of course, there is the obvious suspect, Lord Petersham himself. But why would the dilettante viscount want to eliminate the Prince of Wales?

Bow Street is called in but the Beau is determined to take part in the investigation. After all, he has the contacts, the knowledge, and the intelligence to ferret out what really happened. That Petersham is his dear friend is one good motive for undertaking the investigation. When his rivals begin to point the finger at him, Brummell has an even stronger reason to try to find the killer.

Stevens plays fair in laying out the mystery in The Tainted Snuff Box. If the solution depends a bit on coincidence, this is no different from what happens in many mysteries. But what makes this story so enjoyable are the author’s characterizations and her effective use of the setting. Stevens knows the era of which she writes intimately and this knowledge enriches her tale.

Stevens’ book is particularly strong because of her protagonist. The story is written in the first person, so Beau Brummell is at its center. He was a fascinating man and the author very effectively brings him to life. Whether Stevens’ Beau is the real Brummell I leave to others to judge, but he is a fully realized character in this story with all his charisma intact.

The Tainted Snuff Box is a good historical mystery. I admit to looking forward to the next installment of “Beau Brummell, Detective.”

--Jean Mason