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A review by jackiehorne
The Earl I Ruined by Scarlett Peckham
4.0
3.5 Engaging prose, a lively if often immature and annoying female protagonist, and a plotline based on a mutual misunderstanding between both hero and heroine characterize this mid-18th century London-set historical: "I've loved you forever but I didn't think you loved me so I was mean to you to protect myself/give vent to my unresolved sexual tension." Twenty five year old Lord Apthorpe, for whom our heroine coins the moniker "Lord Bore," appears to be dull dog, committed to rescuing his estate from financial ruin by devoting himself to the passage of a canal bill in Parliament and offering pointed reminders to our heroine about the implications of her outré behavior. In contrast, twenty six year old Lady Constance Stonewall is a flighty, reckless gossip, surrounding herself with people just over the edge of scandalous and courting attention wherever she goes. Both are hiding their true personalities (and in Apthorpe's case, his sexual proclivities), as well as their intense attraction to the other.
In the first book in the series, Lady Constance, the younger sister of that book's hero, came off as a silly airhead. In this book, she makes more sense: after returning from being educated in France at 14, she discovered that she did not at all fit in to London society. Back to the convent for three more years, after which she returns to England again, this time determined that rather than be ashamed of her oddities, she'll cultivate her oddities, adopting mannerisms that make her "queer, forward, uncommonly direct." And she'll use her skills of observation to flatter and court those around her, verbally giving them what they want so that they'll accept her, as well as to keep them all at a distance, so their judgments can never hurt her again. Not sure we ever get a sense that there is something different underneath it all, though; Constance always has ready excuses to explain her behavior (and often good ones at times: she investigates men and spreads gossip about the bad ones to help protect other women, for example), and she truly does seem to enjoy dancing on the edge of the scandalous.
Apthorp (Julian) makes a bit less sense to me, character-wise; his private doings (a dominating sexual preference, and the big secret related to same) and his public persona are at such odds, he must have had to lie a lot to protect his private life. Given the way Peckham constructs his character (upright, moral, GOOD), I'd think that he would have felt more guilt, or anguish, at having to play two such different roles than we see here, even despite his often-stated belief that his "perverse" sexual preferences are not perverse at all.
I agree with many other Goodreads commenters that the last 10% of the book was too over the top to be satisfying. It features not just one, but two scandalous public confessions (via newspaper) that I'm guessing would have made both characters completely beyond the pale of 1740's English ton society, even if said society was far more lax than during George III's, or Victoria's reigns. And there's a bit too much back and forthing over the same emotional ground (can I trust you, or are you too silly/flightly/reckless to keep me and mine safe?) to make for a plot that is constantly pushing you as a reader forward.
Still, there's a lot to admire here: hot sex scenes, silly romps, feminist messages, lovely writing. I'll definitely be back for more from Peckham.
In the first book in the series, Lady Constance, the younger sister of that book's hero, came off as a silly airhead. In this book, she makes more sense: after returning from being educated in France at 14, she discovered that she did not at all fit in to London society. Back to the convent for three more years, after which she returns to England again, this time determined that rather than be ashamed of her oddities, she'll cultivate her oddities, adopting mannerisms that make her "queer, forward, uncommonly direct." And she'll use her skills of observation to flatter and court those around her, verbally giving them what they want so that they'll accept her, as well as to keep them all at a distance, so their judgments can never hurt her again. Not sure we ever get a sense that there is something different underneath it all, though; Constance always has ready excuses to explain her behavior (and often good ones at times: she investigates men and spreads gossip about the bad ones to help protect other women, for example), and she truly does seem to enjoy dancing on the edge of the scandalous.
Apthorp (Julian) makes a bit less sense to me, character-wise; his private doings (a dominating sexual preference, and the big secret related to same) and his public persona are at such odds, he must have had to lie a lot to protect his private life. Given the way Peckham constructs his character (upright, moral, GOOD), I'd think that he would have felt more guilt, or anguish, at having to play two such different roles than we see here, even despite his often-stated belief that his "perverse" sexual preferences are not perverse at all.
I agree with many other Goodreads commenters that the last 10% of the book was too over the top to be satisfying. It features not just one, but two scandalous public confessions (via newspaper) that I'm guessing would have made both characters completely beyond the pale of 1740's English ton society, even if said society was far more lax than during George III's, or Victoria's reigns. And there's a bit too much back and forthing over the same emotional ground (can I trust you, or are you too silly/flightly/reckless to keep me and mine safe?) to make for a plot that is constantly pushing you as a reader forward.
Still, there's a lot to admire here: hot sex scenes, silly romps, feminist messages, lovely writing. I'll definitely be back for more from Peckham.