Regina Scott's biography states that she started writing novels in the third grade. Is this novel one of her earliest works, then? I certainly got such feeling. The plot of the novel is familiar: the general idea has been used, and re-used, and re-used again, ad nauseam: the hero (Malcolm) needs a wife but is to busy/lazy/uncaring to go and actually look for one. His friends parade a number of candidates before him, and his choice falls on the most unexpected candidate, by-passing the reputed beauties and heiresses. The heroine (Sarah) is a penniless spinster, well past the marrigeable age, is not looking for a husband, but wouldn't mind matrimony if she happens to fall madly in love. Malcolm proposes after a day's acquiaintance, because why drag it out? Sarah, when she hears the proposal, for some reason expects him to be head over ears in love with her - seriously, woman? you only met, like, the day before. Anyway, she refuses him - no love, no marriage. How hypocritical of her, I thought, because at the same time she urges her young, pretty cousin to sell herself to the highest bidder, that is, marry the richest of her admirers. Malcolm then insists on courting Sarah. After a series of mishaps, including an unnecessary and, to be honest, badly written villain, the young couple gets their happily ever after.
As I've said already, the plot is banal, to say the least, though I admit it is rather hard to write something original in this great age of romance novel, I mean, after Barbara Cartland and Georgette Heyer you'd be hard pressed to do so. Still, the value of a good romance story is in the telling, in the way you adorn the storyline or bring your characters alive. Regina Scott failed to do so, in my opinion. Oh, she started well enough, giving some background to Sarah, at least. Malcolm, though, falls rather flat. Sarah once says: "He is the lightning of the storm and and the thunder behind it." We see nothing of the kind in the story; he remains your typical tall, dark and handsome, not to mention rich and titled hero. The secondary characters are just as dull: the beautiful, spoiled cousin too dumb to live, who seems to serve only as an excuse for Sarah to come to London; the dastardly villain plotting Malcolm's demise to avenge an imaginary wrong; a couple of friends who provide a place to bring the heroes together. Yawn...
The final nail in the coffin of this story for me was the poorly done research of the period. I felt as if the story was developing in a Hollywood movie set (one from the 1950s, where they though it sufficient to dress the actors in hoopskirts and call it a day). I felt as if all characters were modern people wearing fancy dress. Really, who sends their beloved only daughter for her first, ostensibly most important, London season, accompanied only by her country bumpkin cousin? In reality, the cousin would not even be able to procure tickets to Almack's, not to mention a presentation at court. And their language! So unapologetically modern and even slengy at times, despite several attempts to keep it period appropriate! For example, someone compared Brighton Pavillion to the Kremlin. Is this a Cold War romance or a Regency one? Because from where I stand, the Kremlin rose to the position of the seat of power in Russia well into the 20th century, and the negativity associated with the comparison was all wron for the period - the Russian Empire was an ally, after all. Not to mention it being located in a wrong city (Moscow was not the Russian capital at the time and had not been one for about 100 years). Another silly thing made me sigh exasperatedly: Malcolm once said to a blackmailer: "You will not get another cent from me." Cent, really, not a penny, not a crown, not a farthing - cent. American much? (not that being American a bad thing, you just have to do your research, even a very little of it will do.)
So, this is about it, the rant is over and done with. I regret the time wasted on reading this book. But if you like this kind of saccharine-sween, simplistic stories, go right ahead.