The “Will you be my mistress?” plot is not one of my favorites. I tend to be put off by heroes who are willing to take advantage of women who are socially or economically vulnerable. And I find it difficult to believe than any heroine would choose to strike that bargain under any but the direst circumstances. A Debt of Honour, however, approaches this plot conflict in a strikingly different way. Mary Balogh should take notes.

Lord Peter Chalmsforth (whose title is never clear) is heir to a large estate, a noble name, and the responsibilities of family. When his mother asks him to check on a certain young woman whom Peter’s brother, Gerald, has his eye on, Peter goes forth in duty to warn her off. When he reaches his destination, he finds that Gerald is staying with the Guthrie family at Culross Abbey. The Guthries are a good family, but fallen upon hard times due to a tendency to gamble. Mistaking Fiona Guthrie for the young woman of little reputation, Peter sticks his foot in it and propositions her, thinking that an avaricious woman will go where the money is. Immediately he is aware of his mistake and properly mortified.

Fiona Guthrie is a woman of beauty and principle. She is aware of her family’s illustrious history, but also of its present realities. She rebuffs Chalmsforth’s proposition, but doesn’t take her anger out on him. Instead she treats him with deference and kindness. He is quite won over and finds her fascinating in all ways. Their relationship changes, however, when Fiona’s brother finds himself financially strapped and in danger of debtor’s prison. When Fiona fails to convince their relatives to come to their assistance, she turns in desperation to Chalmsforth and asks him to make good on his previous proposition – for £7,000 she will spend one night with him.

What is so terribly interesting about this plot is neither Chalmsforth’s sexual proposition or Fiona’s eventual acceptance (those looking for a lusty read should glance again at the sensuality rating: kisses only). It’s how both Fiona and Chalmsforth react to that proposition before and after they know each other. Fiona is initially abashed. In her sheltered existence, it had never entered her mind that she could make a living off her body. And while Chalmsforth assumes her to have a lower status in society, he is comfortable offering her this bargain. But once he knows who she is, he is horrified that she could even consider being his mistress. She is devalued in his mind for even considering it.

They strike the bargain, but Chalmsforth never considers seducing Fiona. He pays her bills and bows out, secure in the knowledge of doing the noble thing. He is glad to help her and does not demand reciprocity. In fact, he introduces Fiona to his mother and enables her to come out in society. Unfortunately, Fiona cannot accept this arrangement. Her honor demands that she satisfy the bargain. It’s not enough that Chalmsforth doesn’t want sexual payment. She is in his debt, and this is abhorrent to her.

Brown deftly discusses differing views of honor and gender within the parameters of her plot. Chalmsforth, who is within his own realm a noble man, a generous man, and a sublimely fastidious, almost prudish one, nevertheless makes a definite distinction between what is right for people of his own class and for people of the lower classes. Fiona, who is something of a bluestocking and an early feminist, despises this. If it was acceptable for Chalmsforth to proposition her when he thought her below him, how is it wrong for her to accept? Does her status negate her desirability? If it’s wrong under one circumstance, it should be wrong under all circumstances, and if it was acceptable under any circumstance, why should she not accept?

Watching Chalmsforth and Fiona squirm within the boundaries of their differing worldviews was quite interesting. Fiona is a strong character, and by far the more modern and philosophically consistent one, but Chalmsforth is truly admirable. And what’s most enjoyable is watching him grow to admire her and in fact pursue her avidly when all the while he is sincerely disgusted at the sexual bargain they have made.

But the plot drags at times. The story takes place over the course of at least a year, and the conflict between Chalmsforth and Fiona changes for a couple of reasons – each grows to know the other better and both change as a result. While the story absorbed my interest, it also lagged in spots. And the ending could have been a little more drawn out and emotionally generous. A bit more passion would have been nice.

A Debt of Honour is the type of traditional Regency Romance I love to read, and I wish Diana Brown had written more of these intricate little character studies. By now this type of story is a bit clichéd, but for those interested in character-driven stories between worthy characters, this one is worth the hunt.