This book would have been so much better if it weren’t for the hero and heroine. Which is not a really promising realization to have about a romance novel, but having had it, I thought I’d better warn you.

Gideon Harwood, recently returned from India, is searching for his lost brother Caleb when he stumbles on the scandalous secret of Lord Stanwell, a powerful marquess. In order to buy his silence, Stanwell offers Gideon the hand of Stanwell’s daughter, Lady Julia, in marriage. Never mind that Gideon doesn’t like Julia, he nevertheless agrees to the scheme in order to gain entree into the ton for his darling sisters. But he’s not all that happy about it.

Lady Julia Stanwell is being sold into marriage, her father tells her, to pay off her mother’s gambling debts. She’s told the handsome commoner (upon whom she already has a crush) is forcing her father for her hand and she can’t think of anything that upsets her more. Still for the sake of her siblings, who, she’s told, will be forced out onto the street if she doesn’t agree, she tries to be the sort of fiancee and wife that she believes Gideon wishes, all the while resenting him and looking down her aristocratic nose at him at every opportunity. What better recipe for a happy marriage, after all, than misconception, mistrust, prejudice, arrogance, and resentment?

As you can probably tell from the description, this is a Big Misunderstanding book. Luckily, the author doesn’t rely on that alone to power the book, however,she peppers the story with as many Little Misconceptions as she possibly can for into 352 pages. Every page you turn, it seems, someone is jumping to conclusions. And all that jumping makes a body tired.

First, Julia believes her father’s self-serving story about why she has to marry Gideon well beyond the point of rationality and when Gideon breaks off their engagement in disgust, she begs and pleads with him to reconsider. Why would she have to beg and plead with him to marry her if she believes he’s forcing the marriage? So we can’t really call her bright, and she’s not particularly likable either as she takes a little too much delight in reminding Gideon just how common he is at every turn. And yet, Julia manages to be the more sympathetic of the two main characters.

For his part, Gideon figures out fairly early on (although not nearly early enough for this reviewer’s taste) that Stanwell has told his daughter all sorts of lies to ensure her cooperation. While choosing not to enlighten Julia, he views her in a more charitable light due to this realization – for all of about five minutes, that is. No matter what she does or says, he manages to jump to the wrong conclusion aboutit. Everything is an insult, no matter that it stretches the bounds of imagination to make it into one. Not exactly hero material, frankly.

I do have to say this for the book, however: Cullman neatly escapes the clichéd “I hate you but I want you” type of chemistry that you find so often in romance, eschewing it in favor of no chemistry whatsoever. These characters don’t despise each other but have niggling admiration for each other’s physicality, intellect, or personality. They simply despise each other, period – at least for the first half of the book. After that they engage in the most bizarre physical relationship I have ever read in a romance novel.

Gideon assumes a sort of absentminded desire for his wife, showing this desire on two occasions. First, on their wedding night, she tipsily asks if he desires her, and he tells her that he does. Then he thinks to himself that of course it was a lie…oh wait, no it’s not. Similarly, at a later point in the book, his best friend Christian asks if Gideon desires his wife, and he thinks again that he doesn’t…oops, that’s right, yes he does. Other than that, he doesn’t really think about Julia in those terms, except for the offhanded thought that she’s merely the annoying cause of “unwanted erections.” What a prince. Now, I’m not asking for the non-stop mental lusting that’s become such a cliché and a turnoff for many readers, but is a hero who can physically appreciate his wife without having to be prodded into remembering it too much to ask for? Too bad they hadn’t invented Post-its during the Georgian period; it’s conceivable that it’s the only way Julia could have reminded her husband to come to bed with her on a regular basis.

Another problem with this book is that the hero and heroine both have pressing familial concerns that rule their lives – except that they essentially forget about them until suddenly all is resolved at the end of the book. Gideon is obsessed with finding his missing brother Caleb, and Julia is distraught over the idea that her repressive Aunt Aurelia will be allowed to destroy the spirits of Julia’s beloved younger siblings, whose upbringing has been charged to said Aunt. Yet both characters conveniently forget these woes to concentrate on irritating and despising each other for about half of the book, only to be resolved, equally conveniently, at the end. This gap in their seeming dedication unfortunately only adds to the list of their faults, which scarcely seem leavened by any good qualities. What little saving graces they had I’m afraid were not enough to keep me from disliking them as much as they disliked each other.

All in all, this book is heavily dependent on two unsympathetic characters, and the relationship between them, which is easily as unlikable. As such, I can’t recommend it to readers. However, Ms. Cullman’s previous books have fared better with our reviewers,and I can recommend that you check one of them out instead. It’s sure to be an improvement.