I may not have read this actual book until this week, but I’ve read at least fifty just like it. If anyone ever asks for an example of a paint by numbers romance, I am going to wave a copy of Pride and Prudence at them. Hero with an identity crisis? Check. Spunky heroine who leads a smuggling ring? Check. “Colorful” servant who looks like a pirate? Check. Cutesy, endearing townspeople? Check. It’s all been done to death, and usually better than it’s done here.

Lady Prudence Farnsworth is leading the ideal life. She’s a widow whose much-older-and-more-like-a-father husband has left her comfortably well off. She lives in the quiet coastal town of Gravesly, which is populated by sweet, happy peasants who look for her to leadership with the town smuggling ring. She is the notorious “Wolf,” who handles the goods and distributes the profits equitably among the grateful townsfolk.

Captain James Ashley returns home from the wars in glory – until his ship is sunk at Gravesly by the Wolf. After a brief visit to London, he returns to Gravesly with a government mandate to find the Wolf and end smuggling in Gravesly once and for all. Prudence is his hostess, and she is determined to distract him. When her attempt to drug him one night works a little too well, she resorts to seduction. She figures she can throw herself at James, have a few laughs, and still retain her carefree lifestyle. But when they are caught in a compromising position, the happy townspeople are suddenly not so happy. Vows are exchanged, and then James and Prudence must each examine their loyalties. They are attracted to each other, but Prudence is loyal to Gravesly and James is loyal to the government and concerned for his name and reputation. Will unbridled passion save the day? Can true love conquer all?

Well, maybe, if you can stand to read that far. This is one of those “history as costume drama” books. If you are looking for a book that really takes you away to the Regency period, look elsewhere. The terminology, syntax, and attitudes are all modern. Although I prefer more accuracy in my books, I can tolerate history lite as long as the characters and plot are compelling. Sadly, this book really fails in those areas as well.

Prudence is more like a teenager of today than a widow of the nineteenth century. She is certainly fond of sex, since she chases James down with the ferocity of a lioness looking for a kill, and bemoans her celibate state in front of the servants, the ton, and anyone who will listen. One night of passion early in marriage is enough to make her really miss James’s “handle to heaven” (that’s her term, not mine). I could understand Prudence’s concern for the idyllic, perfect townspeople, who are clearly living in Gravesly in between Disney films. But loyalty is pretty much Prudence’s only virtue. She has few distinguishing characteristics, other than an enthusiasm for sex. Even her name is unclear. Is she Lady Farnsworth, or Lady Prudence? As the widow of a Baron, she should be Lady Farnsworth, but she gets called both, presumably because the servants don’t know the difference.

Fortunately for Prudence, James is perfect for her. He’s having an identity crisis, he’s scarred from the war, and he’s about as bright as your average houseplant. The smuggling goes on right under his nose, with the entire town participating. They all have wolf insignias on their doors, for heaven’s sake, but he literally has to trip over the stolen goods to finally “get it.” At this point he shifts from bumbling investigator to autocratic jerk. He issues edicts at Prudence, they fight constantly about how mean he is, and she pines for his handle to heaven. Ah, love.

It’s amazing how some authors can take time-worn, familiar elements and turn them into a compelling story with characters who live and breathe. Others can have similar elements, but produce a story so uninspired that it sends you running to the tbr pile, hoping to find some treasure that will remind you that romances are worth reading after all. I would suggest heading straight for the tbr pile, or something new but more worthwhile. No need to pass go, collect two hundred dollars, or read a romance that’s essentially like so many you’ve read before.