Review: The Devil in Winter, by Lisa Kleypas

Sep 05 2011 Published by under Reviews

After reading a tough memoir, I needed a comfort re-read, and I chose The Devil in Winter, the third of four Wallflowers novels by Lisa Kleypas. The devil of the title is Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent, known to readers of the series as the handsome (blond haired blue-eyed) rake who kidnapped the heroine of the previous book in a disastrous bid to acquire a moneyed wife. Sebastian is selfish, unscrupulous, cynical, vain, and predatory. Evangeline Jenner, a meek redhead who likes to try to blend in so no one notices her stuttering, is about to inherit a fortune from her father, the dying owner of a popular London gambling hell. Her shyness has made her a failure on the “marriage mart.” Rather than being forced by her foster family into marriage with her hapless cousin (and, she suspects, conveniently offed when she comes into her inheritance), Evie decides to run away to Sebastian’s home, and propose to him. She recognizes that St. Vincent would be a faithless, inattentive husband, but since Evie is not in love with him, she figures it will be alright: at least he can protect her from her abusive relations.

Sebastian, recognizing a gift horse when it is stammering in his living room in the middle of the night, accepts Evie’s proposal, including her condition that they sleep together only on the wedding night:

“Lovely,” he murmured. “I rarely like to bed a woman more than once. A crashing bore, after the novelty is gone. Besides, I would never be so bourgeois as to lust after my own wife. It implies that one hasn’t the means to keep a mistress. Of course, there is the issue of providing me with an heir … but as long as you’re discreet, I don’t expect I’ll give a damn whose child it is.”

The first chapters of TDIW are perhaps my favorite. There’s a lot of exposition, but right away it’s clear that these are two well-matched, strong willed characters, and that their story will be an exciting one.

Almost immediately, Sebastian and Evie establish a repartee that is a delight to read. The tone of their conversation could easily be transposed to contemporary romance:

“I w-want to be away from London,” she replied, “before my relations find me.”

“Is there any reason for them to suspect you’ve come to me?”

“Oh n-no,” she said. “No one would ever believe I could be so demented.”

Had she not already been somewhat light-headed, his brilliant grin would have made her so. “It’s a good thing my vanity is so well-developed. Otherwise you’d have demolished it by now.”

“I’m certain you already have many women to f-fortify your vanity. You don’t need one more.”

“I always need one more, darling. That’s my problem.”

Continue Reading »

21 responses so far

Review: Again the Magic, by Lisa Kleypas

Feb 27 2011 Published by under Reviews

They had Snuggies in Regency England?

Again the Magic was published in 2004. It’s a prequel of sorts to Kleypas’s wildly popular Wallflower series, since the heroine’s older brother, Marcus Westcliff, is the hero of It Happened One Autumn. I’ve read a bunch of books by Kleypas (maybe 7 or 8), and I’ve enjoyed all of them, although, with the exception of The Devil in Winter, which had a very memorable deflowering scene, I find I have a hard time with recall after I’ve turned the last page.

The first chapter establishes that our teenage hero, McKenna, an orphaned stable boy, and heroine, Aline, eldest daughter of the Earl of Westcliff, are childhood friends who recently watched a Very Special episode of The Brady Bunch and concur with Greg and Marcia that:

Day by day, it’s hard to see the changes you’ve been through
A little bit of living, a little bit of growing all adds up to you
Every boy’s a man inside, a girl’s a woman too
And if you wanna reach your destiny, here’s what you’ve got to do

They are deeply in love and lust and soon enough — despite McKenna’s attempt to hold her off, an indication of his nascent wimpitude, which grows into full blown wimpitude later in the book –  get busy — but not to the point of defloweration — on the stream that runs behind Aline’s family’s Hampshire estate. Alas, Aline’s snooping little sister, much like Cindy Brady, is a tattletale, and Aline is forced to send McKenna off under the pretense that she has suddenly discovered that she is the daughter of an Earl and he is a stable boy. McKenna buys it (!), and leaves for (eventually) the Colonies, only to make his fortune and return — 12 years later — with revenge on his mind.

Aline, meanwhile, has burned both of her legs by reaching for one of McKenna’s letters in the kitchen. She is left with grotesque scarring, problems walking, and major case of Martyrdomitis. She will never love again, but finds, miraculously enough, a Gay BFF in neighbor Lord Sandridge.

When McKenna shows up (with his employer, Shaw, a drunk but rich American), we are given all the signals that he has transformed from a lovesick boy from the wrong side of the haystack into an Alpha Hero Bent on Sexy Revenge, but one look at Aline, and he’s pretty much putty in her hands again. Far from him seducing her into ruin and then breaking her heart, Aline manages to seduce him while simultaneously hiding her legs and keeping her dual secrets: why she sent him away and why she can’t take him back.

McKenna is a bit slow on the uptake with regard to both his own feelings for Aline and with regard to what Aline’s status as unmarried virgin might indicate. And why doesn’t Aline just tell him she’s been pining for him all this time? Her legs. She’s afraid he’ll marry her out of pity if he knows, and she hangs on to this pretty much to the bitter end, even after McKenna declares his love. Most readers find this scene annoying rather than tragically moving, for good reason. If Aline can’t trust McKenna this far, can she be said to know him or love him at all?

The secondary romance — really, almost a parallel one given the amount of space it takes in the book — is between Aline’s little sister Livia and McKenna’s jaded roguish employer Shaw. Fate has come back to bite Miss Tattletale on the butt, as her own scandal (she became pregnant by her fiance, but both he and the baby died) has made her a virtual recluse with no prospects for marriage. Shaw is always drunk — he even spikes his morning coffee with booze to calm the shakes — and bears emotional scars from a bad upbringing. This romance was fun to read, and ended on an optimistic but not unrealistic note.

I almost never notice anachronisms in romance. I tend not to care too much about how accurately the history is portrayed. And while it didn’t tank the book in this instance either, boy did I notice it. For example, Aline thinks, “It had been relentlessly instilled in her since the cradle that people did not venture out of their classes”, yet clearly that bit of socialization didn’t take, because her she is mooning over and hoping to marry the stable boy. Later, she thinks, “Aline knew exactly what was in store for her. She would have an intolerant aristocratic husband, who would use her to breed with children and turn a blind eye when she took a lover to amuse herself in his absence.” For a women who benefits tremendously from her social station, I need some explanation of how she comes to be so critical of her culture. She’s not especially astute or intelligent, and she’s certainly not politically minded, noting at one point that her weekly visit to the townspeople “was an obligation she did not always enjoy, for these visits took up a full day or more of the week.”

Marcus, her brother, feels the same way: “Despite a lifetime of social indoctrination, Marcus did not believe in aristocracy of any kind.” In his view, “Livia did nothing wrong” by becoming pregnant out of wedlock. And Shaw, the American, was “nothing like the American aristocrats that Marcus has encountered. In fact, Shaw seemed to enjoy making his New York family cringe with his cheerful references to his great-grandfather, a crude and outspoken seas merchant…” In this book, people who have “escaped” their socialization are the good guys, and people, like Aline’s father, or Shaw’s sisters, who haven’t, are the bad guys.

Aline and Livia are so free with the sex, and so unconcerned with breaking rules, that at times I imagined this was like MTV’s Real World with drawers and corsets. Livia makes out with Shaw at a party, she visits him in the guest house unchaperoned in her nightgown, in front of servants, she sneaks out of her house to go have sex with him in London, etc. etc. The adult Aline macks on McKenna (including a crotch grab) in a hallway off the kitchen, then goes to a village fair unchaperoned with McKenna and draws him into the woods where the leg-hiding tree sex occurs. The final straw was at the end, when McKenna and Aline are in bed after the HEA, at Shaw’s London townhome, and Shaw actually pops his head in the door and has a congratulatory chat with McKenna as Aline sleeps.

So, there are three issues I had with this book: (1) that McKenna so easily believes his best friend and lover — someone he has known all his life – has turned on a dime and rejected him, and continues to believe it well after he should really know better, (2) that Aline keeps not one but two big secrets from McKenna, waaaaaaaaay too long, and (3) the super modern feel of this “historical” romance.

Yet, despite these issues, I found — typical of me and this author –  Again the Magic very hard to put down, and I did enjoy it overall. I discovered I like revenge plots. The book also has the typical Kleypas heat and well written sex scenes. I enjoyed the interactions between all of the characters, the Westcliff siblings, for example, and Shaw and McKenna. And I very much enjoyed the secondary romance. This would not be my top choice for someone who wants to try Kleypas, but for someone working though her backlist, it is worth a read.

Word on the Web:

Book Binge, 4.25 out of 5
Mrs. Giggles, 68
The Romance Reader, 4 hearts
All About Romance, Liz Z, B+
Rosario’s Reading Journal, B
It’s Not Chick Porn, Dionne Galace, D

14 responses so far

Monday Stepback: Why Read?, Verbing, Straw Feminism, and Getting Yelled At

Feb 21 2011 Published by under Monday Morning Stepback

The weekly links, opinion and personal updates post

Links of Interest

From the Guardian Books Blog, When Authors Met Book Bloggers for Lunch, interesting and balanced:

This is a great strength that literary bloggers have. They do not have to write for a mass audience, their excesses are not necessarily reined in by an editor, and so they are free to produce indecent, funny, inappropriate, uplifting, provocative, controversial or unconventional reviews, just as they are free to produce reviews that are vicious. I defend their right to be vicious and I don’t take it personally anymore, because I see literary viciousness as a dark art that sometimes needs writers as its canvas. I do worry about some of the writers who are just starting out, though. Some of the more casual meanness that happens online might be avoided if the reviewer imagined the author reading their piece, or if they envisaged a day where they had to meet face-to-face in a room.

*****

From today’s New York Times, Blogs Wane as the Young Drift to Sites like Twitter:

The effect is seen on the companies providing the blogging platforms. Blogger, owned by Google, had fewer unique visitors in the United States in December than it had a year earlier — a 2 percent decline, to 58.6 million — although globally, Blogger’s unique visitors rose 9 percent, to 323 million.

LiveJournal, another blogging service, has decided to emphasize communities. Connecting people who share an interest in celebrity gossip, for instance, provides the social interaction that “classic” blogging lacks, said Sue Rosenstock, a spokeswoman for LiveJournal, which is owned by SUP, a Russian online media company. “Blogging can be a very lonely occupation; you write out into the abyss,” she said.

But some blogging services like Tumblr and WordPress seem to have avoided any decline. Toni Schneider, chief executive of Automattic, the company that commercializes the WordPress blogging software, explains that WordPress is mostly for serious bloggers, not the younger novices who are defecting to social networking.

In any case, he said bloggers often use Facebook and Twitter to promote their blog posts to a wider audience. Rather than being competitors, he said, they are complementary.

“There is a lot of fragmentation,” Mr. Schneider said. “But at this point, anyone who is taking blogging seriously — they’re using several mediums to get a large amount of their traffic.”

I think this last point is very true.

*****

Rebecca at Dirty Sexy Books is celebrating her second anniversary with an interesting post full of lessons learned.

*****

At All About Romance, Dabney Grinnan is Flying the Romance Flag With Pride, an innocuous celebration of the genre … until something strange happens in the comments, now numbering 39. I may have made a snarky “contribution” myself.

*****

Once again my US Senator has a very bad idea. On the Kill Switch bill (via Books Inq).

*****

Monsters and Humans: Where to Draw the Line in Fiction, a guest post at Midnight Moon Cafe by Roxanne Rhoads.

*****

Is It Ok To Call Someone Else Nuts? at Udo Schuklenk’s Ethx Blog. I have purged words like “retarded” and, less successfully, “lame” from my vocabulary, but “nuts” is one I am on the fence about.

*****

Folks participating in a February 11 romance panel at a Sydney library have produced a transcript and a post from the moderator. Check them out for answers to questions like “How has romance changed since the 1980s?” and “Has the stigma against the romance genre diminished?”

*****

Let’s Say Goodbye to the Straw Feminist, by Cordelia Fine, in response to UVa psychologist Jonathan Haidt’s views on bias in science, as reported in the New York Times recently:

What about claims of sex differences in the brain, sometimes speculatively linked to aptitude in science and maths? Small sample sizes, noisy data, publication bias, and teething problems with statistical analysis techniques leave this literature littered with spurious findings of sex differences. So where does the disagreement lie between the neuroscientist or commentator who reports a sex difference in the brain, and the critic of that empirical claim? Does the former have a far more optimistic view of the study’s reliability? Or is she less concerned about the social fall-out should her claim about the difference between the male and the female brain turn out to be wrong?

*****

Is the Kindle increasing piracy, or is author Dave Carnoy thinking data is the plural of anecdote? (at CNET, vie @jafurtado)

A lot of people think moving away from paper is a good thing. Maybe it is. But what should also be alarming to publishers is that the number of people pirating books is growing along with the number of titles that are available for download. As I’ve written in the past, the rise of the iPad has spurred some of the pirating, but now the huge success of the Kindle is also leading to increased pirating. Yes some companies, such as Attributor, have done some studies about the issue, and seen increases. But for my evidence one only need glance at Pirate Bay and see what people are downloading and how many of them are doing it.

*****

Reading is Overrated by Rick Gekoski at the Guardian, a post probably more interesting for the way it rides the line between satire and seriousness (or is it the line between brilliant and bad writing?) and for the comments than for the words it contains:

And then we have this, from Somerset Maugham: “To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all of the miseries of life.” Well, almost all? I wonder which miseries reading is a refuge from, and which not? And if it is such an escape, are we not likely to doubt that what we were protected from was not a misery, but an inconvenience or an occasional source of bad temper? I suspect that a good definition of “misery” might well be “pain so acute that even reading will not assuage it”. I’d be surprised if reading provided a “refuge” from the pains of toothache, colic, or childbirth, the deaths of loved ones, the decline into dementia, the experience of war, famine, or grinding poverty, or the relegation of Coventry City FC.

*****
Do You Verb? by Stefanie at So Many Books:

the penchant in English to turn, usually nouns but sometimes other words too, into verbs. The grammatical term for it is “denominalisation” but I like “verbing” better, it is much more fitting, don’t you think?

Sometimes verbing make me nuts, but usually in my professional life. So, for example, when people say they “consented” a patient. What the hell does that mean?!

*****

If you were as disappointed as I was in the 20-years-late-to-the-party New Yorker Paul Haggis Scientology piece, read this excellent article at the Awl on The Early Heroes of Scientology Reporting.

*****

As a bioethicist, I am always interested in the lines between (often overlapping really) mental disorder and moral failings. This Time Magazine article on Sex Addiction is actually pretty interesting in that regard:

The American Psychiatric Association (APA) is debating whether sex addiction should be added to its Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The addition of what the APA is calling “hypersexual disorder” would legitimize sex addiction in a way that was unthinkable just a few years ago, when Bill Clinton’s philandering was regarded as a moral failing or a joke — but not, in the main, as an illness.

APA recognition of sex addiction would create huge revenue streams in the mental-health business. Some wives who know their husbands are porn enthusiasts would force them into treatment. Some husbands who have serial affairs would start to think of themselves not as rakes but as patients.

*****

If you are interested in roundups of what happened at last week’s Tools of Change conference, check out these posts by Jane Litte, Sarah Wendell, and Ron Hogan. I was pretty wowed that Margaret Atwood commented — although not with super humility, unless I read it wrong — on the Smart Bitches post:

I was the Good Fairy who sprinkled you with snark dust, which you have to admit has served you well; and I have been following the fortunes of the Daughters of Pride and Prejudice (Harlequins) and the Daughters of Wuthering Heights (rippers with cloaks) and the Daughters of Aurora Leigh (a wounded man is more controllable) off and on ever since. In Lady Oracle, the secret life of the hapless protagonist is as a romance writer…
I will send you my shortie, “Women’s Novels,” if you like. (Inspired by my sister-in- law asking me why I didn’t write them, or at least something with white sharks in it.) Or you can find it in the (cough, ahem) book, Good Bones and Simple Murders… if, that is, you can find the book…

And have also been puzzling over this comment by Edward Champion:

The problem with conferences like Tools of Change is that they are often run by people who are socially clueless and extraordinarily rigid in their thinking. Real world pragmatism is going to be what separates the successful bookstores from the Black Books types that vanish in the next year.

… The collision of commerce-driven, socially clueless geeks with booksellers who comprehend social intricacies can often lead to regrettable results. And I suspect that the solution will probably involve a new panel called Humanity 1.0: Rediscovering Vital Social Values Practiced by 90% of the Human Population (Who Also Don’t Own E-Readers).

*****

Funny of the week: At Risky Regencies, author Janet Mullany on a Quick Writers Guide Through History. (via @keirasoleore)

Personal:

I gave a talk very early this morning at the hospital as per usual. This time, we were going over cases (rather than doing theory, for example, or policy). One fictional case had to do with a 4 year old who had to have surgery to remove baby teeth. Her parents gave her sugary drinks and failed to encourage good eating habits. After the surgery, when they saw how many teeth had been pulled, the parents were angry. In the PACU, the nurse anesthetist is confronted by them. How should s/he respond?

I’m not going to go into the details of how I would work through this case with the group, because I wanted to mention one physician in the room who was increasingly agitated as I went through the details of the (fictional, but all too common) scenario. He raised his hand right away and tried to derail the conversation in favor of a discussion of patient rights versus patient responsibilities. He was angry — very angry — that I failed to take into account that the whole problem began with bad parenting. He interrupted my talk several times, along the same lines. When I suggested that clinicians try to figure out why the parents were angry, he accused me of being “too touchy feely” and “ridiculous”, noting that his job was to bring the patient safely through the surgery, and that’s it. When I tried to find common ground (a usually foolproof mediation tactic, as in “we both agree clinicians should not get enmeshed in patient emotions”) he threw my handout on the floor, grabbed his bag and stormed from the room in the middle of the session.

This is the kind of exchange I have very frequently in my work at the hospital. I don’t get called in unless there is a “situation”, so emotions are always running high. People — nurses, doctors, social workers, patients and families — care very much about their work or their loved ones, and they also, being human, care about themselves. It matters a lot to me to be an agent of good, as far as I can (often, not very far), in this setting, and I will persevere even with people who don’t respect me, don’t like me, argue in bad faith, lie to themselves and to others, and are generally very difficult to deal with. I can’t let that exchange go by the wayside: I will work on it, through intermediaries if necessary, even if it is upsetting or frustrating.

But here, in Romanceland, I’m not going to do it. Here, for me, the bar is set much much lower for “not worth my time”. I’m sure in some cases, online meaningful discussions with people who seem “impossible” can yield important interpersonal breakthroughs, but in most cases, I doubt I can do it. More importantly — most importantly — I don’t have the energy. I just can’t. For me, in my life, disputes like the one this morning are much more important to face and resolve than disputes on a thread in Romanceland. I do not have loads of energy, so if I use up a lot of emotional energy in Romanceland, I know I won’t have enough for the other work that I have decided is more important for me, let alone for my family and friends, who are the most important of all. So — and I am responding to some emails here, which I’ll keep private — if I am not as involved in flamewars, or don’t get into it with commenters here, or just bow out of discussions or threads, or ignore some people on twitter, even though I may follow them, this is why.

The kids are off this week. And the spouse and I are … not. A lot of juggling. I hope to review Again the Magic by Lisa Kleypas later this week.

HAPPY WEEK!

26 responses so far

Academic Talks on Nora Roberts, Mary Stewart, Laura Kinsale, and Grace Livingston Hill

Apr 10 2009 Published by under Academia, Genre musings

More summaries from the April 2009 Pop Culture Association Conference, this time a romance panel featuring some of the bloggers at Teach me Tonight! As usual with these posts, keep the possibility of human error (mine) in mind.

“Me, Myself, and I: Love As the Integration of selves in the romance fiction of Nora Roberts”, An Goris, doctoral candidate, U. of Louvain, Belgium

NR always engages with basic narrative conventions of romance genre, but also marred by numerous forms of diversity. Goris focuses on 8 books, out of NR’s 200. Love is presented as a complex, multifaceted, ambiguous emotions. Love as both huge and scary, disruptive, but also simple, basic, real – life’s basis. H/H experience love first as one, then as the other. Calls process the “integration of selves”. Can see this in NR’s writing in her representation of body, mind, and relationships.

Conceptual dichotomy, mind v. body, rational v. irrational, artificial v. natural. Body as vessel of emotional truth. Ex. Characters go pale when shocked, prior to even realizing cognitively they are shocked. Ex. Characters need to touch each other prior to recognition of feelings. H/H emotional journey from conflict to harmony b/t mind and body.

Continue Reading »

11 responses so far

Review: Seduce Me At Sunrise, Lisa Kleypas

Oct 10 2008 Published by under Reviews

Cover Comment: Luscious, and the models in the stepback are perfect

Series?: Yes. This is the second of the Hathaway series, the first of which was Cam’s story, Mine til Midnight, and the next installment is (I think) Poppy’s story, followed by Leo’s.

Heroine and Hero: She’s Win Hathaway, serene virginal young woman, newly recovered from a dread illness, hopelessly in love with Kev Merripen, orphaned Rom gypsy who came to live with the Hathaways after a horrendous and violent childhood, leaving him more beast than man, but man enough to be hopelessly in love right back with Win.

Distinctive feature: Requited love from page 1. Name another romance that has that! Oh, and the heroine is described as a “fastidious little cannibal” during one of the love scenes.

Word on the Web:

KMont, Lurv a la Mode, 5 scoops

Jane, Dear Author: B-

Romance Rookie, Jill D., A

Cheryl, AAR,  A-

Ana, Book Smugglers, 9 out of 10 (check out the comments thread for a long comment by Ms. Kleypas herself about Merripen!)

Ramblings on Romance, joint review and chat, Kristie(J), 5+, and Katiebabs, 4 out of 5

CindyS, Nocturnal Wanderings, B

TGTBTU, Gwen, A

Holly, Book Binge, 4.75 out of 5

Nath and Lori, joint review at Breezing Through, Nath: “mediocre to good”, and Lori: about the same

Lawson, TGTBTU, A

Drusilla, The Romance Bureau, C (and check out this site for the most unique romance review set up I have yet seen!)

Kati, Romancenovel.tv, 4.75 stars

Romance Novels, “absolutely adored” it

Romance Vagabonds, A

Leslie’s Psyche, A-

Stacy, Stacy’s Place on Earth, 4 3/4 out of 5

Dev’s Good Reads, “excellent”

Amazon.com, 4 stars after 24 reviews

Harriet Klausner Falsoid (you know, like a factoid, only false): Too many to list, which is actually kind of impressive for a three paragraph “review”, raising the question of whether there is a kind of excellence in wrongness. Animegirl’s comment puts it best: “Get your facts straight before embarrassing yourself with sucky, uninformed reviews.”

My Take in Brief: Very good — great if you like your heroes angsty and your dramatic tension high — but not my fave by this author.

The Racy Romance Review:

Like most romance readers, especially lovers of historical romance, I adore Lisa Kleypas. This is the seventh book of hers I have read, and I have enjoyed them all. I can’t say this ranks up there with her best — for me, Devil in Winter, Dreaming of You, or It Happened One Autumn — but the emotional intensity of the lead relationship, combined with a winning heroine and Kleypas’s trademark strengths in juggling ensembles and subplots, made it a very good experience for me overall.

SMAS opens with an intense scene between Win and Kev: she is leaving for France to complete her recovery from scarlet fever, and she wants Kev to acknowledge his feelings for her. I thought it was terrific that the reader is introduced to these two this way, in the middle of things. Their emotions are so strong — love, lust, fear, anger — that they seem uncontainable in the small room in which this conversation takes place. Those who’ve read Mine til Midnight, in which Kleyaps provided glimpses of their relationship, will have been primed for this type of scene, but I found it believable and compelling even though I skipped Cam and Amelia’s story.

Win is terrific. In an earlier post, I noted that heroines can be strong in a lot of different ways, and Win is an example of that. She is consistently the more honest, mature, risk taking and even dominant in their relationship, despite all of Kev’s bluster, while remaining traditionally feminine in demeanor and appearance. Her illness has sharpened her awareness of the precariousness of life, and has given her hopes for marriage and family a kind of focused intensity. It’s what she wants, and if Kev cannot get over his unexplained reluctance to be with her, she will find someone else.

There is a someone else — Win brings him back from her two year convalescence in France –  and while his presence provides a monkey wrench to get Kev out of his very stuck place, and also provides a suspense subplot, this character is not well drawn, and never, to my mind, posed a credible enough threat to be interesting. Of course, we do have the rest of the Hathaways, and even appearances of a Wallflower couple, and those scenes, which some readers may feel are overused, give the book a levity and easy warmth that serve as a welcome contrast to the intense quality of the Kev/Win scenes.

The scene stealing star of this book is actually Leo, Win’s older brother, the classic self-deprecating rake with a heart of gold, a wonderful sense of humor, and a core of darkness underlying all the mirth. Leo butts heads early on with the stern new governess, hired to help younger siblings Poppy and Beatrice — near social outcasts thanks to their unconventional family — make something out of their London seasons.  Here’s a typical Leo (and Kev) scene:

“I’ve been wondering … Is [the governess] a misandrist, or does she hate everyone in general?”

“What is a misandrist?

“A man-hater”

“She doesn’t hate men. She’s always been pleasant to me and Rohan.

Leo looked genuinely puzzled. “Then … she merely hates me?”

“It would seem so.”

“But she has no reason!”

“What about your being arrogant and dismissive?”

“That’s part of my aristocratic charm,” Leo protested.

“It would appear your aristocratic charm is lost to Miss Marks.” Kev arched a brow as he saw Leo scowl. “Why should it matter? You have no personal interest in her, do you?”

“Of course not,” Leo said indignantly. “I’d sooner climb into bed with Bea’s pet hedgehog. Imagine those pointy little elbows and knees. All those sharp angles. A man could do fatal harm to himself, tangling with Marks…” He stirred the plaster with new vigor, evidently preoccupied with the myriad dangers in bedding the governess.

A bit too preoccupied, Kev thought.

Like I am sure every other reader, I cannot wait for Leo’s story.

Kev’s Rom ethnicity is probably the focal issue of the book: not just his mysterious origins, and his troubled relationship with Cam, fellow Romany gypsy and new member to the household, but also his take on gender and romantic relationships. To her credit, Kleypas doesn’t restrict her exploration of Kev’s ethnicity to mentioning his dark skin and eyes every so often. Readers come to understand how central Kev’s ethnic identity is to him, even as he integrates into white English upper class culture and wrestles with the complicating fact that his own people abused him and left him for dead as a child. Readers are also given a lot of information about the Romany people, and are exposed to the range of views of gypsies that whites — gadjos –  would likely have had: members of the ton who shun the Hathaways because of it, and the servants who feel superior, as revealed in a scene in which a servant says a gypsy boy is speaking “gibberish” when Kev knows he is, in fact, speaking  “perfectly articulate Romany”. Further, the villain’s evilness is signaled by his racially motivated hatred of the hero.

However, and here is my quibble with the book: Kev is, for most of the book, a very one note character. He wants Win — it is clear he is in desperate love and lust with her, and Kleypas treats us to terrific flashbacks in which this love develops –  but feels he is unworthy, because he has nothing to offer her in terms of social standing, wealth, or even manners, and, more deeply, because, like many other victims of child abuse, he secretly feels he doesn’t deserve happiness.

But Kleypas’s descriptions of him sound this same note over and over and over: he’s savage, he’s a beast, he’s an animal, he’s primitive, he’s uncivilized. He’s “impenetrably mysterious”, “demonic”, a “vile tempered troll”, and “would never be more than half-tame”, and on and on until very late in the book. If you haven’t read it, it’s hard to convey how saturated this book is with images of the hero as nonhuman. I have to admit it, that even with the explanatory background of child abuse, this bothered me on both literary and moral levels.

Second, Kev’s emergence from the pit of self-loathing that Kleypas has dug so well seemed pretty abrupt, following directly upon his deflowering of Win. After the scene in which they are first together, a touching and beautiful interlude, references to Kev’s animal nature, as well as his antisocial behavior, disappear almost completely from the book. I  guess this came a little too close to the “magic hoo ha” for me.

Still, this was an enjoyable read, and will certainly not be the last in this series for me.

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