The Duke of Defiance
I hadn’t read any of Darcy Burke’s The Untouchables novels, but the title The Duke of Defiance sounded intriguing enough to make me try the book. Sadly, it was a dull read with the exception of a single moment I’ll mention later. Mild spoilers ahead.
Thanks to an accident that kills both of Bran Crowther’s older brothers, he’s now the Earl of Knighton. Bran, who is a widower, returns from Barbados along with his five-year-old daughter Evie in order to assume his duties. One of those responsibilities is to produce an heir and Bran doesn’t look forward to dealing with marriage-minded ladies who won’t understand his eccentricities.
Joanna Shaw lives with her sister and brother-in-law (hero and heroine of a previous book in the series) and tries to contain her pangs of sadness at being reminded of everyone’s joy and fertility. A widow, she has no hopes of a future. But when her niece befriends Bran’s adorable, precocious daughter, Joanna grows fond of the enchanting little girl and wants to help her adapt to life in England. Except that means dealing with the devastatingly attractive Bran.
I recently read an historical romance which used tropes I wasn’t keen on, but that story made me care about the characters, and so the tropes worked. They felt natural. Unfortunately, this isn’t the case in The Duke of Defiance.
First, all the heroes (who gather to welcome their new friend Bran into the club) enjoy their cheesy nicknames.
Bran blinked at Kendal. “The Forbidden Duke?”
Kendal inclined his head. “Just so. I think it’s the most dashing of our titles, really. Far more respectable and commanding than Duke of Desire. Or Duke of Daring.”
Second, Joanna is convinced she’s barren because she was married for eight years and didn’t conceive. Needless to say, she more than proves her fertility in the epilogue. It just takes the right man – the right, virile man. I wasn’t in the least surprised to learn her late husband was abusive, short, and not as gifted in the downstairs department as Bran, but he turned out to be gay as well. There are tired tropes, there are offensive ones, and there are those which manage to be both.
Third, Bran hires Joanna as a governess for Adorable Precocious, who – the first time she ever meets Joanna – suggests her as a prospective new mama. Joanna is perfectly in sync with the darling child.
“I only wanted to tell you that even though I’ll be your governess, I’m still Jo. We needn’t become formal.” Jo winked at her, and Evie grinned.
I have never read such an anachronistic romance. Bran’s valet notices when Bran has had sex, and discusses this with him, speculating as to who the lucky woman is. Bran tells Joanna she’s going to eat with him and have a maid of her own. He also wants her to call him Bran. None of this rings true as to how an aristocrat and a servant interact when they’re trying for decorum.
Fourth, everything Joanna does makes Bran hard, so he asks her to marry him. But for the nth time, we’re reminded she’s barren. So he tells her the only way to determine whether she’s really infertile is to make love with him.
This is the best reason I’ve ever read in a historical romance for unprotected sex between an aristocrat and a servant. If you don’t sleep with me, you’ll never know whether you’re barren or not! Jo’s response isn’t consideration for the baby who’d be conceived as a result of a sexual experiment, or even for her own future.
She was an abject failure when it came to womanhood.
It’s her usual lack of self-confidence. She’s a wet noodle, and no amount of Bran thinking how wise and witty she is made any difference.
The sum total of Bran’s defiance is that he lets his daughter ride astride and tells his mother she can’t mistreat him any more. His other schtick is that stress makes his skin itch, so he rips his coat off on a regular basis. This gives Joanna a view of his bronzed chest, and during a sex scene she notices his ‘dashing little nipples’. I imagined his nipples running all over his body, which was the sole entertaining moment in the book. The only person I felt anything for was Bran’s first wife, who existed to give him Adorable Precocious (who doesn’t remember her), then died to make room for the heroine.
The plot is equally thin. Joanna helps Bran conduct interview after interview for household staff. After a dance, she runs off into the garden to recover from being turned on, and since he wants to get away from the crowd, he also seeks refuge in the garden, with predictable results. The children have delightful playtimes. Looking at the reviews here for other books in this series, it seems they’re better than this one, but I can’t recommend The Duke of Defiance to anyone except die-hard fans. Though the plus in the grade is for the dashing little nipples. At least those made me laugh.
Buy Now: A/BN/iB/K
I'm Marian, originally from Sri Lanka but grew up in the United Arab Emirates, studied in Georgia and Texas, ended up in Toronto. When I'm not at my job as a medical laboratory technologist, I read, write, do calligraphy, and grow vegetables in the back yard.
|Review Date:||June 30, 2017|
|Book Type:||Historical Romance|
|Review Tags:||The Untouchables series|
Ugh. So much ugh. Hasn’t the dead mom trope been done to death in Disney movies?
As for the review – I scrolled down, and read this comment before reading the rest of the review:
“This is the best reason I’ve ever read in a historical romance for unprotected sex between an aristocrat and a servant.”
For a second there, I thought you were serious! Thanks for the laugh.
This troubles me, if it’s related to her being “barren”:
“She was an abject failure when it came to womanhood.:
Not reproducing does NOT render a woman worthless. Imagine a world without Jane Austen, or – I don’t know – the first Queen Elizabeth!
I think her lack of self-confidence was partly due to barrenness and partly due to emotional abuse from her husband. He made her feel worthless because she couldn’t give him a child, though the story never showed why they couldn’t conceive (since despite his preferences, they did have sex). I’m guessing that on top of all his other faults, he was sterile too.
I’m originally from a culture where it’s expected that a woman will have children, so I could understand a barren heroine feeling less than acceptable as a wife. But I do expect her to be competent or successful or confident in other parts of her life (as opposed to being a sad panda who sits around brooding as her friends produce baby after baby). And I really don’t want her problem to magically vanish in the epilogue.
See this article from yesterday’s Daily Mail. Just about sums up this clunker! Thanks for a fun review, Marian.
What was the general idea of that article? Sorry, but I refuse to open that website and give them traffic, as they’re HEAVILY pro-Russian and often report blatant lies about Putin’s military attacks in Ukraine etc. (and refer to illegally-annexed Crimea as “Russia”). They also quote that monstrous Oliver Stone and his pro-Kremlin propaganda “documentaries” about Putin as fact.
It’s basically talking about the rise of the “caring, nurturing hero” in romance, specifically in regard to Mills and Boon’s latest “Single Dads” line.
Interesting, though I’m not surprised. As equality between men and women continues to grow, it does not surprise me that women want to read more stories about nurturing and caring men, and especially men who want to take care of children. Those heroes certainly appeal to me as a reader.
Thanks for reading and for the link!