Stevie‘s review of Duchess by Deception (Gilded, Book 1) by Marie Force
Historical Romance published by Zebra 29 Jan 19
I’m a sucker for a cross-dressing protagonist, particularly in historical stories, sometimes to the point where I’ll ignore all kinds of factors that would normally count as honking great warning signs that this is not a book for me. Like an author who has suddenly switched genre (in this case from contemporary to historical fiction), a US author who is writing fiction set in the UK without having previously spent time here, or a series whose title harks to a US-specific period of history – which, incidentally, was more or less over by the time at which this story begins. Of course, there are times when ignoring warnings can lead to great discoveries. This was not one of them.
Derek is a Duke. We know this because everyone constantly addresses him as ‘your grace.’ Not Westwood (his title) or Eagan (his family name) or some childhood nickname in the case of his friends, and not ‘sir’ in the case of his staff. He’s also very aware (as are his friends) that a deadline is looming: he must marry by his 30th birthday. Not to humour some aged relative who might otherwise write him out of their will; not to satisfy a creditor who will foreclose on a hefty loan on that date if he doesn’t find a wealthy bride. No, Derek has to marry or lose the dukedom: MAJOR ERROR NUMBER ONE. This could never have happened, not even back in the days when dukes were merrily executed or otherwise bumped off on the whim of the monarch. Sadly for Derek, he despises every young woman he encounters. Luckily for them, since Derek is a colossal bore.
Tired of London, Derek rides his horse out to his estate in Essex: MAJOR ERROR NUMBER TWO. Horses are not motorbikes and cannot travel great distances from city to rural retreat in a matter of a few hours, Dick Turpin and Black Bess not withstanding. Any normal duke in Edwardian times would, of course, have travelled by train, possibly even to his estate’s own station, where he could have been met by the staff – possibly, given that this is a plot point later, in a motor car. Anyway, Derek rides out to the estate, where he encounters Catherine McCabe, dressed as a boy and digging a hole. Catherine promptly faints, not at Derek’s dubious manliness, but because she is exhausted and unwell. Derek takes her to his house (because he’s already entranced by her), and tucks her up in bed, learning along the way that Catherine wants nothing whatsoever to do with the aristocracy.
Catherine is the daughter of an earl, who was previously a blacksmith, though not as far as I could make out a member of a William Morris style artist’s commune (which might have made sense), and has run away from marriage to a viscount in order to search for treasure buried by her grandmother, who was seemingly in service to Derek’s grandfather and then married an earl. Go figure all that lot out, because I couldn’t. Sadly, Catherine fails to display any rampant socialist ideas beyond hating her parents’ sudden switch from ordinary folk to snobs (still no mention of William Morris) and is happy to believe that Derek is his own estate manager. And then, reader, she marries him. At Gretna Green (which they get to by carriage in her case, and on horseback in his – without changing the poor horses at any point), even though non-residents couldn’t do that after 1856. Still without Catherine knowing Derek’s true identity, because he signs the register after she does, without anyone spotting the switch to his proper signature.
I somehow managed to finish this book, although I’ll spare people too many further details. Suffice it to say there are mentions of motor cars, with no appearance of any authorial knowledge or research into British motoring history – of which there was plenty, even by Edwardian times – and Derek may, in fact, be the Doctor given his ability to predict the future when investing in technology. He’s not the Master: that role is played by his Evil Uncle, a swirling mass of villainous cliches if ever I saw one.
This was the first and last book I ever read by the author. I shall avoid like the plague any more dross from someone who cares so little about how badly she disrespects my country’s history. Plus, that whole thing about lying to someone because they wouldn’t have sex with you if they knew your real identity? At best it’s icky; at worst, depending on where you are in the world, it’s rape.
Grade: F
Read Veena’s review here.
Summary:
Derek Eagan, the dashing Duke of Westwood, is well aware of his looming deadline. But weary of tiresome debutantes, he seeks a respite at his country home in Essex—and encounters a man digging on his property. Except he’s not a man. He’s a very lovely woman. Who suddenly faints at his feet.
Catherine McCabe’s disdain for the aristocracy has already led her to flee an arranged marriage with a boorish Viscount. The last thing she wants is to be waylaid in a Duke’s home. Yet, she is compelled to stay by the handsome, thoughtful man who introduces himself as the Duke’s estate manager.
Derek realizes two things immediately: he is captivated by her delicate beauty, and to figure out what she was up to, Catherine must not know he is the Duke. But as they fall passionately in love, Derek’s lie spins out of control. Will their bond survive his deception, not to mention the scorned Viscount’s pursuit? Most important, can Catherine fall in love all over again—this time with the Duke?
Read an excerpt.
Other books in this series:
