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dmwmtgal's review against another edition
4.0
http://imaromancereader.blogspot.com/2008/06/dangerous-beauty-by-sophia-nash.html
jemcam's review against another edition
3.0
Rosamunde is considered a fallen woman after being caught in a kiss during her teen years. Now a widow after suffering through a loveless marriage, Rosamunde becomes a member of the secretive "Widow's Club," but begins to flirt with disaster again when she catches the eye of the Duke of Helston, notoriously called the Lord of Ice and Fire. Read this one if you like your heroes sarcastic, but with a heart of gold.
storytimed's review against another edition
2.0
Super Special heroine (~beautiful eyes~, so many names because of how special she is, can out-athletic anyone at anything even after 15 years of no practice), shitty boundary-pushing hero. I was invested mostly in the family drama, but even that was underwhelming.
Basically: the heroine's big scandal is that someone allegedly saw her and a dude she crushed on having sex on the beach. She refuses to marry him to save her reputation and runs away. Later it turns out that her sister, who was ~too embarrassed to say anything~ was the one with her crush instead. There's no real reason why Sophia wouldn't just fess up and marry the guy she was in a secret relationship with anyway, the author just needed something bad to happen to Rosamund so she could suffer for the drama.
I was expecting the crush's shit dad to have faked a scandal so that they'd have access to Rosamund's dowry, so the actual resolution was highly disappointing.
Basically: the heroine's big scandal is that someone allegedly saw her and a dude she crushed on having sex on the beach. She refuses to marry him to save her reputation and runs away. Later it turns out that her sister, who was ~too embarrassed to say anything~ was the one with her crush instead. There's no real reason why Sophia wouldn't just fess up and marry the guy she was in a secret relationship with anyway, the author just needed something bad to happen to Rosamund so she could suffer for the drama.
I was expecting the crush's shit dad to have faked a scandal so that they'd have access to Rosamund's dowry, so the actual resolution was highly disappointing.
simplyparticular's review
2.0
The reader hardly gets to know either of the main characters, and its very clear the author is setting up for a series.
thefiercepanda's review
2.0
2 1/2 stars... I really wish GoodReads gave us the option to give 1/2 ratings. Anyway...
I have mixed feelings about this book. Too many people determined to suffer and be miserable for no damn good reason other than because they're too stupid, proud, or chickenshit. It got annoying.
I have mixed feelings about this book. Too many people determined to suffer and be miserable for no damn good reason other than because they're too stupid, proud, or chickenshit. It got annoying.
donnaslair's review
5.0
This was a very pleasant surprise. I wasn't familiar with Nash before this, but I'll be stocking up now!
The main characters are fairly typical... the misunderstood Duke who hides his sensitive nature behind a facade of acid humor and hauteur. The feisty lady whom fortune has spat upon, rendering her exhausted and vulnerable. The secondary characters and plot aren't unusual either.
What sets the book apart is the quality of the writing. Many books, you sort of skim along on the surface, never really getting submerged. But each time I picked this one up, I was completely engrossed within 5 minutes.
The main characters are fairly typical... the misunderstood Duke who hides his sensitive nature behind a facade of acid humor and hauteur. The feisty lady whom fortune has spat upon, rendering her exhausted and vulnerable. The secondary characters and plot aren't unusual either.
What sets the book apart is the quality of the writing. Many books, you sort of skim along on the surface, never really getting submerged. But each time I picked this one up, I was completely engrossed within 5 minutes.
georgiewhoissarahdrew's review
2.0
2.5 stars because, weird plot stuff
I'm going though a DNF phase at the moment - one strike and it's out. So the fact that that I finished this is - in a back-handed way - a reflection of the potential of the writing, in spite of some total no-nos.
I started reading this because of Caz's review (this, and so many other books! - thanks, Caz), and like her very nearly gave up after chapter one: the heroine, having been (apparently) compromised beyond recovery, is brow-beaten by her father and his into marriage with the man of her dreams in a scene of rather tedious melodrama.
Anyway.
Back to poor Rosamunde and the brace of Mark III's bullying her into doing the Right Thing. When she (somewhat perversely) refuses to marry the duke's heir she has adored from afar, out comes the bread and water and the first of the author's brutal manipulations of the story.
"Then her father mysteriously unlocked her door without a word and left for London with orders for the rest of the family to join him in a fortnight. Now she was ripe for the plucking.
"[Along came] a marriage-minded country squire [whose] chief allure was his timing and his false sympathy. The very day her father left for town, Mr. Baird appeared with flowers in his hands and the enticing offer of a marriage of convenience to a pillar of Cornish society on his lips...and the promise to shield her from gossip.
"Without anyone’s knowledge or approval, Rosamunde fled with him to Scotland, married in haste, and repented not in leisure." (Btw, if I'm going to cavil, I'll do the thing properly - Rosamunde did repent, and in the next paragraph too.)
But the oleaginous Baird and his false flowers last little longer than this brief appearance - for, by the next chapter, we have been rushed forward eight years, beastly Baird is dead and his ashes swept under the authorial carpet with barely a pause for startled breath. Rosamunde, now homeless and alienated from her Mark III pa, has been chosen - sight unseen - to join a bizarre club of impoverished widows, chaired by the hero's grandmother. So she ends up trudging the length of England with her worldly possessions in two small suitcases ("Carrying life’s possessions was hot work," incidentally) in order to join a ducal house party.
This is not thoughtful story-telling. It shows, I would say, disdain for the reader. Yes, the H & h need to be brought together in circumstances where they can become acquainted (nothing propinks like propinquity), but must the contrivances be so blatant? The first part of chapter one is dedicated to explaining how much - how very very much - Rosamunde is the apple of her father's eye. Are we to disregard this when all is changed in a moment, in the cessation of the twinkling of an eye? Certainly the heroine must be on her own, defenceless (yet brave) - that's a perfectly acceptable trope in HR - but, please, couldn't it be a little more realistic?
I think why I've got quite so hot under the collar about this is that there are actually good things in this book. What works in the story - and works really quite well - is the dialogue between principals. The duke and his grandmother, for instance -
[The duke asks] “Have I ever let you down?”
She raised her penciled-in eyebrows until they almost disappeared under her fussy black lace cap.
“I resent that,” he muttered.
“Did I say anything?”
This is naturalistic speech that is amusing to read, and gives a good idea of the characters involved. Ms Nash pulls this off for the duke and Rosamunde as well - there's a lovely scene near the beginning where the duke's loose interpretation of a game's rules costs Rosamunde a prize of £500.
“Cheater.” Her voice was so low he barely made out the word.
“Devil’s rules, Mrs. Baird, devil’s rules.” He turned to her as he checked the smoldering flint and priming pan. “Or perhaps just bad manners. Shall I take another shot or shall you concede, then?”
She ignored him as she placed the bow she had been clenching on the stand. “I suppose your rules include reneging on debts of honor too?”
“Naturally. That is the beauty of them. They constantly evolve as necessary.”
“Your logic is as sinful, I think, as you, sir.”
“We understand each other perfectly, madam.”
All good stuff, and I decided to put the first couple of chapters behind me and read on.
But then, damn me if the author didn't decide to play around more. A potential villain is introduced, built up - and demolished within a chapter. An OW floats around, jabs a little, but is ultimately insubstantial. The duke decides on a whim to take Rosamunde out for a day's ocean sailing. Then - this is the scene I simply couldn't get over - during the interval at the theatre, Rosamunde cuts the duke's hair. I'm going to say that again. At Drury Lane Theatre, in a box, with Society wandering around, Rosamunde cuts off the duke's pony tail (they call it a queue, because he's a peer, but - trust me- it's a pony tail). This is the scene, because this is so absurd I'd forgive you for not believing me.
[Rosamunde says -]“I would like you to give me a lock of your hair.”
...“Dare I ask why you want it?”
“I’d hoped you wouldn’t ask,” she replied softly.
... “Why not? I assume you’ve brought your gardening sheers,” he said archly. “Or some other suitable lethal weapon appropriate for attending the theatre.”
“Of course,” she said, the sound of relief and a smile coming through the words. “Thank you.”
He closed his eyes again when he felt her touching the tight queue he always wore. Before he could think, he said in a rush, “Cut it all.”
...“All right,” she whispered. “If you’re sure.”
“Do it.”
He immediately heard the blades sheering off his queue, and his head felt a stone lighter.
“Lean back, please,” she said.
He felt her soft hands smoothing his hair as she made a few more snips on the sides of his head.
[I'm not even going to mention that it should be "shears", duckie - her gardening "sheers" are, like, see-through dresses for weeding in.]
This is an author who can write good witty dialogue, who can create characters (who mostly stay in character), but who - every now and then - decides to drive a coach and four through sense and my sensibilities. How can someone not have said, "Sophia, love, this is just plain daft"? Well, I'm calling her out on it - this is plain daft and makes me feel played.
I'm going though a DNF phase at the moment - one strike and it's out. So the fact that that I finished this is - in a back-handed way - a reflection of the potential of the writing, in spite of some total no-nos.
I started reading this because of Caz's review (this, and so many other books! - thanks, Caz), and like her very nearly gave up after chapter one: the heroine, having been (apparently) compromised beyond recovery, is brow-beaten by her father and his into marriage with the man of her dreams in a scene of rather tedious melodrama.
Here I am going to indulge myself with a short (but overdue) aside on Fathers of Heroines in HR. To a man, they are distressingly two-dimensional, with well-defined stock sub-species, categorised (à la Heyer) into:-
Mark I - thoughtless charming gamblers, frequently dead. The Dead Gambler model generally leaves unwise mortgages and at least one soggy widow whose primary function is to be a helpless burden on the victimised heroine.
Mark II - benevolent old souls, often with a cloud of gossamer-like silver hair (however unlikely this is in men who can - on a strict accounting - be very little older than 45) and no money. They are also absent-minded and call the heroine "my dear", possibly because they have forgotten her real name, as they also tend to have more than usually large families. That absent-mindedness again.
Mark III - "You'll do as I say, young lady, or it'll be bread and water for a week." The rewards of tyranny are sweet: the Dictator Daddy model is always rich, well-connected, and enjoys fine food and wine. The natural habitat of these fathers is their study, although they have also been sighted on doorsteps, kicking undesirables down into the mud.
The fathers of heroes are generally the Mark III (Paediatric Whipping) model. It should be noted, though, as a warning to heroes' fathers everywhere, that they are more than likely to have died in freak hunting accidents before the story opens. This is obviously tough on the father in question, but it does allow the hero to suffer stoically the effects of childhood abuse while sleeping on silken sheets. [Note to self - become a Regency-era therapist next time round.]
I'd be delighted to hear of any properly nuanced exceptions to Wickham's Law of Awful Fathers. Sir Horace Stanton-Lacy is the only real candidate, and since he doesn't actually talk to his daughter during the entire book, I'm not sure he's altogether typical.
Anyway.
Back to poor Rosamunde and the brace of Mark III's bullying her into doing the Right Thing. When she (somewhat perversely) refuses to marry the duke's heir she has adored from afar, out comes the bread and water and the first of the author's brutal manipulations of the story.
"Then her father mysteriously unlocked her door without a word and left for London with orders for the rest of the family to join him in a fortnight. Now she was ripe for the plucking.
"[Along came] a marriage-minded country squire [whose] chief allure was his timing and his false sympathy. The very day her father left for town, Mr. Baird appeared with flowers in his hands and the enticing offer of a marriage of convenience to a pillar of Cornish society on his lips...and the promise to shield her from gossip.
"Without anyone’s knowledge or approval, Rosamunde fled with him to Scotland, married in haste, and repented not in leisure." (Btw, if I'm going to cavil, I'll do the thing properly - Rosamunde did repent, and in the next paragraph too.)
But the oleaginous Baird and his false flowers last little longer than this brief appearance - for, by the next chapter, we have been rushed forward eight years, beastly Baird is dead and his ashes swept under the authorial carpet with barely a pause for startled breath. Rosamunde, now homeless and alienated from her Mark III pa, has been chosen - sight unseen - to join a bizarre club of impoverished widows, chaired by the hero's grandmother. So she ends up trudging the length of England with her worldly possessions in two small suitcases ("Carrying life’s possessions was hot work," incidentally) in order to join a ducal house party.
This is not thoughtful story-telling. It shows, I would say, disdain for the reader. Yes, the H & h need to be brought together in circumstances where they can become acquainted (nothing propinks like propinquity), but must the contrivances be so blatant? The first part of chapter one is dedicated to explaining how much - how very very much - Rosamunde is the apple of her father's eye. Are we to disregard this when all is changed in a moment, in the cessation of the twinkling of an eye? Certainly the heroine must be on her own, defenceless (yet brave) - that's a perfectly acceptable trope in HR - but, please, couldn't it be a little more realistic?
I think why I've got quite so hot under the collar about this is that there are actually good things in this book. What works in the story - and works really quite well - is the dialogue between principals. The duke and his grandmother, for instance -
[The duke asks] “Have I ever let you down?”
She raised her penciled-in eyebrows until they almost disappeared under her fussy black lace cap.
“I resent that,” he muttered.
“Did I say anything?”
This is naturalistic speech that is amusing to read, and gives a good idea of the characters involved. Ms Nash pulls this off for the duke and Rosamunde as well - there's a lovely scene near the beginning where the duke's loose interpretation of a game's rules costs Rosamunde a prize of £500.
“Cheater.” Her voice was so low he barely made out the word.
“Devil’s rules, Mrs. Baird, devil’s rules.” He turned to her as he checked the smoldering flint and priming pan. “Or perhaps just bad manners. Shall I take another shot or shall you concede, then?”
She ignored him as she placed the bow she had been clenching on the stand. “I suppose your rules include reneging on debts of honor too?”
“Naturally. That is the beauty of them. They constantly evolve as necessary.”
“Your logic is as sinful, I think, as you, sir.”
“We understand each other perfectly, madam.”
All good stuff, and I decided to put the first couple of chapters behind me and read on.
But then, damn me if the author didn't decide to play around more. A potential villain is introduced, built up - and demolished within a chapter. An OW floats around, jabs a little, but is ultimately insubstantial. The duke decides on a whim to take Rosamunde out for a day's ocean sailing. Then - this is the scene I simply couldn't get over - during the interval at the theatre, Rosamunde cuts the duke's hair. I'm going to say that again. At Drury Lane Theatre, in a box, with Society wandering around, Rosamunde cuts off the duke's pony tail (they call it a queue, because he's a peer, but - trust me- it's a pony tail). This is the scene, because this is so absurd I'd forgive you for not believing me.
[Rosamunde says -]“I would like you to give me a lock of your hair.”
...“Dare I ask why you want it?”
“I’d hoped you wouldn’t ask,” she replied softly.
... “Why not? I assume you’ve brought your gardening sheers,” he said archly. “Or some other suitable lethal weapon appropriate for attending the theatre.”
“Of course,” she said, the sound of relief and a smile coming through the words. “Thank you.”
He closed his eyes again when he felt her touching the tight queue he always wore. Before he could think, he said in a rush, “Cut it all.”
...“All right,” she whispered. “If you’re sure.”
“Do it.”
He immediately heard the blades sheering off his queue, and his head felt a stone lighter.
“Lean back, please,” she said.
He felt her soft hands smoothing his hair as she made a few more snips on the sides of his head.
[I'm not even going to mention that it should be "shears", duckie - her gardening "sheers" are, like, see-through dresses for weeding in.]
This is an author who can write good witty dialogue, who can create characters (who mostly stay in character), but who - every now and then - decides to drive a coach and four through sense and my sensibilities. How can someone not have said, "Sophia, love, this is just plain daft"? Well, I'm calling her out on it - this is plain daft and makes me feel played.
missmarketpaperback's review
4.0
A moving historical. Rosamund's story is heartbreaking but not maudlin. She and Lucifer banter in a fun way throughout. I liked the different side characters and that the families were not too perfect, despite a general generosity. I would say I took a star off because I found the forgiveness a little fast for the amount of vitriol the book dragged our MC through.
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