Tempting Kate

It is, I understand, the invariable habit of some readers in the romance genre to read books in a series following its internal chronology (which for all practical purposes appears to be publishing date of each volume)and some high sticklers' custom not to even start until the author has finished. Recalling well my frsutration while waiting for the third volume in David Brin's second Startide Rising trilogy, and being in similar tenterhooks currently over the sequel to Lois McMaster Bujold's Komarr I do appreciate the ``aaack!'' feeling when one stops in the middle of a good tale (as with the first example, which was one story in three books) or even when promising developments in a story otherwise well finished are left for the next book (as with the second example, in which Miles solves the mystery but is only partway to getting the girl.)

However, romances typically must bring their protagonists to some sort of resolution by the end of the book, Gone With the Wind (which I've never read, by the way) being a notable exception. Stories in series, in the romance genre meaning of the term, are therefore loosely tied, typically only by relationships between the various protagonists---who may be sisters, old school chums, or members of a town---a pair of which typically stars in one book and serving as minor characters in the rest.

So I find there is often a great deal to be said for starting backwards, if only because I tend to hear about the most recently published efforts. Certainly this was the case with Deborah Simmons, whose charming The Last Rogue inspired me to find some of her other books, in hopes of similar treats a la Heyer.

This was perhaps an unrealistic expectation, but Simmons' Raleigh really did bring to mind Freddy, the amiable and often harried hero of Cotillion (though unfortuately without a minor character the equal of Freddy's wonderfully precipient father) without at all being derivative---a most unusual treat. Being the latest in a series about men of widely varying personalities, I prepared to enjoy Simmons' interpretations of the Uptight, Responsible Man (Wycliff, in The Vicar's Daughter---couldn't find that one), the Gothic Tinged Widower Thought to Have Murdered His Wife (Ravenscar, in The Devil Earl), and of course that old time favorite, the Icy Rake (Wroth, in Tempting Kate).

Unfortunately I can't blame my disappointment on these two books being considerably older, since the copyright dates are '97 and '96, respectively; however, with one book between them, speculation of excessive haste is a possibility. That's really too bad, because Rogue shows that the potential exists, as in fact do sparkling elements in these two stories. Simmons shows flare for beginnings both dramatic and funny, and Kate's appearance into the Marquis of Wroth's life exemplifies this.

Having shot him for seducing her sister and then carted him off to her house in a fit of remorse for actually hurting him, Kate becomes even more mortified when she discovers she got the wrong man, or rather, her sister did. Wroth, for all that cold iciness, is remarkably forgiving of Kate's misidentification and its consequences, focusing instead upon identifying her, and once having achieving that goal, of easing her life of penury amongst grand surroundings that are falling down upon her ears for want of funds.

Unfortunately this is where the pacing starts falling down as well---a simple statement that Wroth's famous composure is cracked and his passions stirred is not going to cut it, and the two of them kissing passionately by p.~29 simply isn't believable, any more than the idea that an earl's daughter would accept aid in the form of servants, and especially clothes, any more than Wroth would present them to a woman of good breeding.

This story is promising, but I can't help feeling that a good text editor would go a long ways in solving the worst of the book's problems: if the two of them had simply held onto the pride their positions and characters would have led the reader to expect, and resisted their desires a little more handily, the story would not have only made better sense but had all the more satisfying a denouement. After a too-passionate beginning the reader then has to endure the old passionate at night cold during the day plot device, which isn't executed as obnoxiously as some, but Wroth's internal comments that he's drawn to their conversations and intelligence are not borne out by the action.

Pity. Two stars.

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Sylvus Tarn

Last modified: Wed Sep 16 12:55:46 EDT 1998