Deirdre and Don Juan
Deirdre and Don Juan (available only in the Lovers and Ladies set in the USA) won the RITA for Best Regency Romance in 1994, and is an utterly delightful take on the “rake-meets-plain-jane” trope, in which both hero and heroine have some growing up to do. The gorgeous, charming and very rakish Mark Juan Carlos Renfrew, Earl of Everdon, is widely known throughout society as Don Juan for his half-Spanish heritage as well as his way with the ladies. Although his wife ran off with another man a decade earlier, and after just six months of marriage, he didn’t seek a divorce because his status as a married man meant that he was safe from the matchmaking mamas on the marriage mart.
However, he has been recently widowed and decides to marry again before his new-found freedom becomes known throughout society at large and makes him a target for every eligible young lady in the ton. When his mother – half-jokingly – suggests her somewhat mousy friend, Lady Deirdre Stowe as a possible wife, Everdon actually thinks it’s a good idea. Deirdre is plain and quiet, just the sort of woman he wants; she’ll be only too glad to land a rich, handsome husband, give him his heir and spare, and live quietly in the country while he gets on with his life in London. It’s the perfect solution.
Lady Deirdre has other ideas, however. For one thing, Everdon is a rake and not at all the sort of man who would make a good husband, and for another, she is in love with someone else, a man of genius, a mathematician named Howard Dunstable who is going to Do Great Things. She has visions of her life with him in a pretty cottage, he working on his complex mathematics while she caters to his every whim, embroiders and eventually, she hopes, looks after the children.
Her parents are not at all pleased about the idea of their daughter making a match so far beneath her, but Deirdre is stubborn and has extracted a promise from them that if she has not received a suitable proposal by the end of the season, she will be allowed to marry Howard. But with just a few weeks to go, along comes Everdon with his proposal and ruins everything. If his reputation wasn’t enough to make her dislike him, the spoke he puts in the wheel of Deirdre’s plans to marry Howard certainly are, and she wants absolutely nothing to do with him.
Unfortunately for her, Deirdre’s father has agreed to the match, which means that Everdon cannot, in all honour, call it off. (Ladies could break an engagement, gentlemen couldn’t). But Deirdre can’t cry off either, as doing so will break the terms of the agreement with her parents. When she explains the situation to Everdon he concludes that there’s only one way to end the betrothal and offers to engineer a situation whereby she will catch him in a compromising situation with another woman. In the meantime, however, they must behave like an engaged couple and be seen to spend time together.
This, of course, allows both of them time to adjust their opinions of the other. The more Everdon sees of Deirdre, the more he comes to admire her intellect, her kindness and her spirit, and to realise that she’s not plain at all. His late wife’s betrayal has made him understandably wary of emotional entanglements and lingering doubts about his own culpability in her desertion – he feels he neglected her – surface during his pursuit of Deirdre; but he doesn’t wallow and his doubts help him to realise that he wants to marry Deirdre because he loves her and not simply because she will be a convenient wife.
Deirdre refuses to be swayed by the earl’s good looks and charm, but even so, she can’t help comparing the way he treats her – as though he actually sees her and is interested in her for herself rather than what she can do for him – with the way Howard practically ignores her. Everdon makes her feel beautiful and desired for the first time in her life, while her would-be fiancé is dismissive or takes her for granted. She is perhaps a little too stubborn in her refusal to admit that Howard is completely wrong for her, but I can understand her difficulty; she’s been so set on marrying him for so long that to admit her mistake to herself is one thing, but to admit it to others is incredibly difficult and somewhat lowering.
There is a small, but well-realised cast of secondary characters, such as Everdon’s mother and his odd but strangely insightful cousin Kevin, otherwise known as the Daffodil Dandy because of his predilection for the colour yellow. Deirdre’s young scamps of brothers are fun, and her mother, who makes up for what she lacks in fashion sense in her good common sense, clearly wants the best for her daughter in spite of her propensity to dress her in far too many ruffles and flounces.
This is a fairly short novel (217 pages according to Amazon), and I flew through it in one or two sittings, I enjoyed it that much. It’s a “kisses only” sensuality rating, but the air crackles between the couple from the start, and Jo Beverley builds the romantic tension between them so well that their looks, touches and eventual kisses are wonderfully sensual. There’s a real warmth to the family dynamics and a lovely, understated humour; all of which combine to make Deirdre and Don Juan a truly charming traditional Regency.