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A review by caz963
To Defend a Damaged Duke by Fearne Hill
4.0
B- / 3.5 stars
To Defend a Damaged Duke, Fearne Hill’s second foray into historical romance, is a cross-class, second-chance love story featuring a rather serious, introverted duke and the prickly owner of a gentleman’s club, who were lovers as young men – but were cruelly separated and have not seen each other for a decade. Rather like the previous book ([b:To Tempt a Troubled Earl|226060810|To Tempt a Troubled Earl (Regency Rossingley, #1)|Fearne Hill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1738600254l/226060810._SY75_.jpg|233422702]) this is ‘historical romance lite’, a breezy Regency romp without a particularly strong sense of time and place, and the plot is in the driving seat.
Benedict Fitzsimmons, fourteenth Duke of Ashington, inherited his lofty title and all that goes with it just nine months earlier, at the age of just twenty-eight. He has a reputation for being reserved, dour and somewhat humourless, but he takes his responsibilities seriously and recognises his role as custodian of his wealth and property for future generations. Although, as his father’s heir, he was brought up to fulfil the weighty role he would one day inherit, he doesn’t feel terribly comfortable in it, and would much rather spend his time in the stables with his beloved string of thoroughbreds. His twin brother, Lyndon, (younger by three minutes) is resentful and troublesome, a thorn in his side just as he was in their father’s, while Francis, five years Benedict’s junior, is outgoing, charming and funny – and would, Benedict thinks, have made a much better duke than he does. Especially as Francis, unlike Benedict, will marry a woman and eventually have children to carry on the line.
It’s at Francis’ suggestion that Benedict decides to take a short break from dealing with the ever-present mountain of paperwork on his desk and spend an hour or so at the recently opened Squire’s, a gentleman’s club on St. James’s. On entering, he immediately feels too old and staid for the place, but he finds Francis and his friends and spends some time conversing – mostly about horses – before making his excuses to take a turn about the room while wondering how soon he can make his escape without being impolite. He’s relieved to see an exquisitely dressed, fair-haired gentleman making his way towards him; the eccentric Earl of Rossingley is an old friend and is always happy to talk horseflesh. Benedeict’s nerves recede a little as he, the Earl, and the Earl’s companion, whom he introduces as Mr. Christopher Angel, settle in for a drink, away from the rowdier corners of the room.
Tommy Squire – or Thomas L’Esquire, as he calls himself now – has done whatever he needed to do in life to pull himself up and out of the gutter by his bootstraps and to leave behind a painful, sordid past. He’s not ashamed of having been a molly boy or an actor or the countless other things he did to keep body and soul together; all of it has made him who he is now, the successful owner of three gentlemen’s clubs, a couple of brothels and a boxing club - together with Rossingley, who is his ‘silent’ partner as well as one of his most trusted friends. Tommy works hard and plays… very little, so little, in fact, that he can’t remember the last time he indulged in, well, anything pleasurable. When Sidney, his doorman, and eyes and ears in the club (and other trusted friend) tells Tommy that they’ve got “a duke in tonight”, Tommy decides to observe the floor from the gallery for a while, noticing that gentleman chatting amiably with Rossingley and Angel. At first only the back of the man’s head is visible – until he turns to raise his glass in a toast, and Tommy’s stomach lurches. It’s him. His “young lordling”, the man he’d loved with every fibre of his being - who had left him to take his chances with the law on that fateful afternoon ten years ago.
The set-up is nicely done, with Tommy’s animosity leaping off the page and Benedict’s regret being palpable, and I was looking forward to a slow-burn second-chance romance as Tommy learns to let go of his resentment and Benedict works to earn his trust, but that isn’t what happens and the romance is - despite their obvious chemistry - rushed to make way for the plot. While I’m all for protagonists who talk their problems through, Tommy and Benedict work almost everything out in just a conversation or two, and while I could go with their agreeing to a truce after the explanations (Tommy) and heartfelt apologies (Benedict), not enough time is given to the development of their second-time-around romance. We see a little of their earlier relationship in the book’s prologue, but that wasn’t enough to convince me that they would, ten years later, simply pick up where they left off, and we’re asked to take their love for each other as read.
That said, the leads are engaging and well-drawn, and I liked them as a couple. Benedict is a hopeless romantic, a ducal cinnamon roll who is beset by insecurities and fears that he’s not enough – not clever enough, not personable enough, not imposing enough - to be a duke, and who simply doesn’t see that his strength lies in his kindness and honesty and desire to make things better for the people he cares about. His relationship with Lyndon – who is overflowing with bitterness and resentment and resists any and all attempts to help him – is really well done; Benedict obviously loves his brother and is hurt by his animosity and rejection, but even so, wants to help him, if he can work out how to. Tommy is clever, pragmatic, doesn’t trust easily and is, not surprisingly, bitter about what happened all those years ago - but is unable to maintain that bitterness in the face of Benedict’s genuine contrition and obvious unhappiness. As he comes to know Benedict better, he comes to realise that he (Benedict) struggles to believe in himself and to believe he deserves to be happy – and determines to help him to change both those things.
The plot revolves around the fact that someone – and we find out who it is fairly early on thanks to Rossingley’s somewhat unconventional questioning techniques – has got hold of a list of the patrons of the White Hart (the molly house where Benedict and Tommy used to meet) from 1813, and is threatening to reveal the truth about Benedict to the entire ton. Benedict is a bit martyr-ish about it at first, believing he deserves whatever is coming for what he did to Tommy, but fortunately Rossingley is having none of that, and comes up with a plan to neutralise the threat. It’s somewhat ridiculous, but the best thing about it is that it brings Benedict to the realisation that he has people in his corner who will fight for and alongside him and that he’s not alone. There’s a secondary plotline in which it appears someone is“nobbling” Benedict’s horses in order to win bets against them, which Benedict takes care of in spectacular fashion.
The prose is a bit flowery at times, and the strongly written secondary cast adds colour to the story, which is lively and entertaining with a depth to the emotional lives of the characters – especially Benedict, who is so different to most of the dukes that populate the genre – that kept me engaged. I very much appreciated that the author finds a period-appropriate HEA for the couple.
To Defend a Damaged Duke is charmingly frothy with some serious undertones, and I enjoyed it in spite of my reservations. Just don’t go into it expecting KJ Charles levels of historical accuracy and complexity.
To Defend a Damaged Duke, Fearne Hill’s second foray into historical romance, is a cross-class, second-chance love story featuring a rather serious, introverted duke and the prickly owner of a gentleman’s club, who were lovers as young men – but were cruelly separated and have not seen each other for a decade. Rather like the previous book ([b:To Tempt a Troubled Earl|226060810|To Tempt a Troubled Earl (Regency Rossingley, #1)|Fearne Hill|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1738600254l/226060810._SY75_.jpg|233422702]) this is ‘historical romance lite’, a breezy Regency romp without a particularly strong sense of time and place, and the plot is in the driving seat.
Benedict Fitzsimmons, fourteenth Duke of Ashington, inherited his lofty title and all that goes with it just nine months earlier, at the age of just twenty-eight. He has a reputation for being reserved, dour and somewhat humourless, but he takes his responsibilities seriously and recognises his role as custodian of his wealth and property for future generations. Although, as his father’s heir, he was brought up to fulfil the weighty role he would one day inherit, he doesn’t feel terribly comfortable in it, and would much rather spend his time in the stables with his beloved string of thoroughbreds. His twin brother, Lyndon, (younger by three minutes) is resentful and troublesome, a thorn in his side just as he was in their father’s, while Francis, five years Benedict’s junior, is outgoing, charming and funny – and would, Benedict thinks, have made a much better duke than he does. Especially as Francis, unlike Benedict, will marry a woman and eventually have children to carry on the line.
It’s at Francis’ suggestion that Benedict decides to take a short break from dealing with the ever-present mountain of paperwork on his desk and spend an hour or so at the recently opened Squire’s, a gentleman’s club on St. James’s. On entering, he immediately feels too old and staid for the place, but he finds Francis and his friends and spends some time conversing – mostly about horses – before making his excuses to take a turn about the room while wondering how soon he can make his escape without being impolite. He’s relieved to see an exquisitely dressed, fair-haired gentleman making his way towards him; the eccentric Earl of Rossingley is an old friend and is always happy to talk horseflesh. Benedeict’s nerves recede a little as he, the Earl, and the Earl’s companion, whom he introduces as Mr. Christopher Angel, settle in for a drink, away from the rowdier corners of the room.
Tommy Squire – or Thomas L’Esquire, as he calls himself now – has done whatever he needed to do in life to pull himself up and out of the gutter by his bootstraps and to leave behind a painful, sordid past. He’s not ashamed of having been a molly boy or an actor or the countless other things he did to keep body and soul together; all of it has made him who he is now, the successful owner of three gentlemen’s clubs, a couple of brothels and a boxing club - together with Rossingley, who is his ‘silent’ partner as well as one of his most trusted friends. Tommy works hard and plays… very little, so little, in fact, that he can’t remember the last time he indulged in, well, anything pleasurable. When Sidney, his doorman, and eyes and ears in the club (and other trusted friend) tells Tommy that they’ve got “a duke in tonight”, Tommy decides to observe the floor from the gallery for a while, noticing that gentleman chatting amiably with Rossingley and Angel. At first only the back of the man’s head is visible – until he turns to raise his glass in a toast, and Tommy’s stomach lurches. It’s him. His “young lordling”, the man he’d loved with every fibre of his being - who had left him to take his chances with the law on that fateful afternoon ten years ago.
The set-up is nicely done, with Tommy’s animosity leaping off the page and Benedict’s regret being palpable, and I was looking forward to a slow-burn second-chance romance as Tommy learns to let go of his resentment and Benedict works to earn his trust, but that isn’t what happens and the romance is - despite their obvious chemistry - rushed to make way for the plot. While I’m all for protagonists who talk their problems through, Tommy and Benedict work almost everything out in just a conversation or two, and while I could go with their agreeing to a truce after the explanations (Tommy) and heartfelt apologies (Benedict), not enough time is given to the development of their second-time-around romance. We see a little of their earlier relationship in the book’s prologue, but that wasn’t enough to convince me that they would, ten years later, simply pick up where they left off, and we’re asked to take their love for each other as read.
That said, the leads are engaging and well-drawn, and I liked them as a couple. Benedict is a hopeless romantic, a ducal cinnamon roll who is beset by insecurities and fears that he’s not enough – not clever enough, not personable enough, not imposing enough - to be a duke, and who simply doesn’t see that his strength lies in his kindness and honesty and desire to make things better for the people he cares about. His relationship with Lyndon – who is overflowing with bitterness and resentment and resists any and all attempts to help him – is really well done; Benedict obviously loves his brother and is hurt by his animosity and rejection, but even so, wants to help him, if he can work out how to. Tommy is clever, pragmatic, doesn’t trust easily and is, not surprisingly, bitter about what happened all those years ago - but is unable to maintain that bitterness in the face of Benedict’s genuine contrition and obvious unhappiness. As he comes to know Benedict better, he comes to realise that he (Benedict) struggles to believe in himself and to believe he deserves to be happy – and determines to help him to change both those things.
The plot revolves around the fact that someone – and we find out who it is fairly early on thanks to Rossingley’s somewhat unconventional questioning techniques – has got hold of a list of the patrons of the White Hart (the molly house where Benedict and Tommy used to meet) from 1813, and is threatening to reveal the truth about Benedict to the entire ton. Benedict is a bit martyr-ish about it at first, believing he deserves whatever is coming for what he did to Tommy, but fortunately Rossingley is having none of that, and comes up with a plan to neutralise the threat. It’s somewhat ridiculous, but the best thing about it is that it brings Benedict to the realisation that he has people in his corner who will fight for and alongside him and that he’s not alone. There’s a secondary plotline in which it appears someone is“nobbling” Benedict’s horses in order to win bets against them, which Benedict takes care of in spectacular fashion.
The prose is a bit flowery at times, and the strongly written secondary cast adds colour to the story, which is lively and entertaining with a depth to the emotional lives of the characters – especially Benedict, who is so different to most of the dukes that populate the genre – that kept me engaged. I very much appreciated that the author finds a period-appropriate HEA for the couple.
To Defend a Damaged Duke is charmingly frothy with some serious undertones, and I enjoyed it in spite of my reservations. Just don’t go into it expecting KJ Charles levels of historical accuracy and complexity.