I'm going to preface this rather ranty blog post with the caveat that I don't real a lot of category romances. Other genres (like YA, fantasy, or science fiction) with strong romantic elements? I'm there. But genre romances have never really appealed to me, and this book is a good example of why (more on that in a minute). Still, when I needed a book to read and saw this sitting on the library sale rack, I thought maybe I should give the genre another try (or at least broaden my reading horizons a little).
The plot is cute, if predictable: Isabella, the poor daughter of a tradesman, has always dreamed about attending the lavish masked balls held by the Duke of Kingsborough. So when she finds a beautiful gown in her attic, she sees it as a perfect opportunity to fulfill her dream, and maybe even sneak in a dance with the new duke before she settles down into a boring life of marriage to a man she doesn't love. Of course, that one dance with the duke turns into love-at-first-sight, and soon the duke is scouring the countryside to find the mysterious woman from the ball; and even after he finds her, he has to convince her to marry him, and win over her mother, who harbors a deep and unexplained hatred for the nobility.
Most of the book is enjoyable enough, but the last 50 pages had me seething in anger [spoilers]: Isabella's mother is revealed to be the long lost daughter of a marquess, meaning Izzie herself is nobility after all, and therefore able to marry the duke. Isabella's mother ran away after her own father arranged to have his daughter "compromised" so she would be forced to marry the man of his choosing. What made me see red is that Izzie's grandfather arranging his own daughter's rape just sort of gets swept under the rug, and everyone moves on, pretending it never happened. In fact, Izzie arranges a meeting between her mother and grandfather so they can reconcile before her engagement is announced. AND THEY DO. Because clearly THAT'S the most important thing here? To give credit to Barnes, the main couple is great, and all of this may be correct for the period, but if I wanted period correctness, I would read historical fiction. I'm reading romance to feel all warm and fuzzy, not to be morally squicked out by creepy old men selling their daughters' virtue off to the highest bidder without her consent.
This is far from the first genre romance I've read where issues of consent are poorly addressed/handled, if they're addressed at all, so I find myself thinking this is just part of the genre. That said, I'm open to suggestions for other romances that I can actually make it through without screaming.
I really like the word 'squicked.'
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