Sarah’s Knight
Silhouette’s Romancing the Crown mini-series continues with Sarah’s Knight. This book would likely have been better had it not been subjected to the constraints of the mini-series. McBride can write. I found her recent single title Still Mr. & Mrs., to be delightful. But here her cozy, humorous style seems hampered by the story she has to tell.
Sir Dominic Chiara, doctor to the royal house of Montebello, has a medical problem he can’t solve. Or, rather, his small son Leo does. Leo has gone mute, and Nick can’t find a physical cause for this strange behavior. King Marcus Sebastiani is quite concerned, so he calls his old, dear friend Dr. Gordon Hunter who sends his daughter Sarah, a child psychologist, to help. Sarah is supposed to pose as Leo’s nanny since Nick has seemed hesitant to bring his son to a psychologist.
An attraction between Nick and Sarah springs up immediately. Sarah has a staid fiancé at home and has purposely formed this less than emotional relationship to avoid being hurt. Still, she can’t help but wonder if something with sizzle would be more fulfilling. Nick has avoided women since his wife died over four years ago. He has been completely numb to the attractions of the fairer sex. But when he sees Sarah, he feels the rusty, prickly tingle of passion as it begins to resurrect itself. He wants to get to know her better. In every way.
Nick and Sarah must figure out together if Leo’s condition has anything to do with a local murder/arson that occurred weeks ago, and, if so, how to help him deal with the tragedy he may have witnessed.
Nick and Sarah were both such likable people that I really, really wished their story had been told in a different way. The Montebello scenario seemed rather unreal and unbelievable, and the way the story had to play out shortchanged both their character development and their romance. McBride introduced a number of secondary characters for no discernable reason, as most of these sub-plots had no satisfactory resolution. There was enough information included for the reader to begin forming theories, but not enough to answer any of the questions raised. One assumes that some of these loose ends will be tied up in the last books of the mini-series.
The set-up of the story – Sarah being drafted into secret nannyhood – is highly contrived, but this didn’t bother me until mid-book when the story suddenly shifted gears and Sarah was left with nothing to do but take a vacation with Nick. Leo as a character is completely unexplored. It’s hard for an author to make something of a character who can’t talk, but McBride doesn’t even make the effort. Thus, Sarah’s eventual joy in her soon to be step-motherhood seems inexplicable. How much time has she spent with this kid? A few days? That’s hardly enough for any kind of true bond.
This may be a small nit-pick, but every time Nick’s aunt, Lady Honoria Satherwaite, made an appearance, her weight was commented on. She is a large, heavy, very noticeable woman, but the constant comparisons to large objects – a steamer ship, a whale – were annoying.
Still, there is much to like here. McBride’s writing style is smooth, easy, and humorous in an understated sort of way. The sexual tension between Nick and Sarah was done very well, and both of them seemed appealing and worthy of a happily ever after. Sarah’s job as a child psychologist offered additional interesting insights as well.
Sarah’s Knight is a fairly balanced mix of good and bad. Had all the Montebello stuff been chucked, the story might have really blossomed. The characters had real potential, but the emotional components of the book were shortchanged by the plot. If you’ve been following this mini-series, you might want to pick this one up, but, otherwise, I’d strongly advise readers wishing to try McBride to go and get a copy of her better book, Still Mr. & Mrs..

