Kidnapping plots can go either way for me. I tend to stay away from them, as I can never quite get it out of my head that the heroine has Stockholm Syndrome. Sometimes, though, it can be done really well and the hero can still be sympathetic… despite the fact that he’s, you know, a kidnapper. Taken By a Wicked Rake by Christine Merrill has a bit of both qualities about it.

There is a long-running feud between Lady Verity Carlow’s family, and Stephano Beshaley’s family, ever since one night when Stephano’s father, an aristocrat, was murdered. Stephano’s mother, a gypsy, placed a curse on the murderers before her death, a curse that Stephano has felt himself for his whole life by way of constant head pain. His solution is to kidnap Verity to force her father’s hand and make him admit his part in Stephano’s father’s murder. So he attends a ball posing as a Lord Salterton, and whisks Verity away with him.

Verity had been attracted to him when she first saw him at the ball, even though she’s the perfect and well-behaved daughter of a duke and even dancing with him could earn her censure. She’s not so thrilled, though, when he kidnaps her and brings her back to his gypsy camp.

Early in the kidnapping plot arc, Stephano did some things that made me uncomfortable — like forcing Verity to strip and then taking her clothes, leaving her in his vardo(a Gypsy caravan which, from the description, sounds like a kind of wagon/tent) naked, or threatening to rape her if she doesn’t behave and if her family doesn’t concede to his demands. Later, of course, his behavior improves significantly, but the fact that Verity was still drawn to him, even as he mistreated her, was not good, and did not vouch for their eventual healthy relationship. His attraction to her, on the other hand, was made more understandable and I liked Verity’s strength in facing him. Her willingness to do work and her dominant personality don’t exactly mesh with biddable demure duke’s daughter that she’s described as, but I chalked that up to people misunderstanding and underestimating her, rather than inconsistency in her character.

The situation with the curse and the murder is a bit fuzzier for me. It is something that has continued over a series of books, written by various authors, and this is the culmination. Those who have followed the series will likely have little trouble, but I would not recommend starting with this book if you haven’t read any of the others. Things come together nicely, though (maybe too nicely), and I have to admit that the latter half of Verity and Stephano’s relationship was sweet.

There’s an unfortunate typo in the very, very beginning of the novel that states that the date is 1915. It isn’t. It’s 1815, as you might guess given that it’s a Regency series book. This confused me for a little while. Maybe most people don’t pay that much attention to dates, but I like to know when in the political, social, and technological chronology we are. Really, it could have been any time in the late 1700s or early 1800s (timing wasn’t too specifically integrated with the plot), but it sure wasn’t the 1910s.

For the most part, I did enjoy the book. There were certainly parts that were weaker than others, though, and I still don’t quite forgive Stephano for leaving Verity naked in his vardo.