When I was bringing my thoughts together to write this review, one word kept insisting it be included. Contrived. That one word summarizes quite neatly what I felt about the plot, the hero and heroine, and the book in general. Friends since childhood, fortuneless Drew and wealthy Harriet were married at seventeen. But Drew left on their wedding day to try to find some answers about his uncertain background and, not wishing to be dependent on Harriet, to amass his own riches. My Lord Stranger opens with Drew’s return thirteen years later.

Older and richer now, Drew wants to have a real marriage, but Harriet resists. Not only were Drew’s communications to Harriet scanty over the last thirteen years, but he managed to saddle her with Priscilla, an obnoxious ward, against her will. Plus, the adult Drew is far different from the young man Harriet had loved all those years ago. Reaching each other again will take time and hard work – a difficult proposition, especially when their progress is obstructed by the manipulative Priscilla.

Harriet is a capable woman, something Drew finds hard to deal with in the wife he expected to return to. Harriet, for her part, is bitter at having been left alone for so long. Both are prickly individuals quick to find fault with the other. Still, they loved each other as children, so they try to muddle their way back to that feeling after their time apart.

This brings me to my main difficulty with this book. I find the premise of love’s ability to withstand a thirteen-year absence a bit tough to stomach. Harriet and Drew grew into adults apart from each other, regardless of the fact that as a young girl, Harriet had suffered from a severe case of puppy love for Drew. Since they had virtually no experience together as a man and a woman, to fend off temptations during their separation, and with only just a few chilly letters during their lengthy separation to sustain them, I just can’t see why they didn’t fall out of love with one another. The embers of love rekindled by leaps and bounds once Harriet and Drew were reunited, but this simply never rang true to me. It felt more as though the author insisted on it, rather than that the love grew from the characters themselves.

Contrived. This same feeling permeates the couple’s intimate moments. After an initial hot rush of need, I trudged though a lukewarm middle only to be treated with a few scenes of marital bliss toward the end. Drew and Harriet never came alive before my eyes, and their lengthy arguments did little to improve the believability of pleasant passion.

My Lord Stranger was a tolerable read, but I can’t say I much liked it. Possibly, I’m too rational for the basic premise of this book, and I have difficulties putting up with extensive quarreling. With that said, I must point out that it was nice to see a somewhat older heroine in a historical who wasn’t a widow. Perhaps the book would have worked for me if there had been more space, and so more time, for Harriet and Drew to reconnect. As it is, I can’t shake off the image that they were bundled together in a straightjacket.