The Rake’s Mistake
When I first started The Rake’s Mistake, I wasn’t sure I was going to like it at all. It begins with one of my least favorite premises – the hero who sees an attractive woman, hears rumors about her, and decides she’ll make a great mistress. As I read the opening pages, I thought I could see the plot unfolding before my eyes, with a jerk hero pursuing the virtuous, protesting heroine until she caved in, then realizing on the last page that perhaps he might marry her after all. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was completely wrong. Although the hero begins courting the heroine with carte blanche in mind, the story unfolds in a different way, and actually has a lot more to do with sailing and painting than mistresses.
Archer Drake, Lord Ramsdale, has just returned from a three year stint in the West Indies, where he had been packed off by his family after committing some undisclosed indiscretions. He hears a woman’s laugh as he is talking with one of his friends, and the sound is so musical that he feels compelled to find out who utterred it. When he sees that the woman in the dress shop is as lovely as her laugh, he determines that he must make her immeidate acquaintance. His friend warns him off; the woman in question has a notorious reputation. Daphne, Lady Wetherell, is a widow now, but she is rumored to have slept with multiple paramours, and she even served as an artist’s model for her father and his students. Archer is undeterred; such a woman will make an excellent mistress.
Archer’s the type of man to do his homework, so when he discovers that Daphne is the guardian of a young man (Robbie) who is having gambling problems, he decides to use that to his advantage. He deliberately loses to her charge, then shows up at her doorstep with the money he owes. She assumes he’s a creditor at first, so she treats him rudely. Archer explains his errand and offers to give Robbie some guidance, which softens Daphne somewhat, but she’s still pretty leery; she’s used to men using all kinds of ploys to get her in bed.
Archer and Daphne soon discover that they share two passions – art and sailing. Daphne’s father was a gifted artist, and she has inherited his talent and ambition. Archer isn’t an artist, but he is an enthusiastic collector with an interest in marine art. He’s also a sailing enthusiast who wants to incorporate some of the American designs he saw abroad into his own boat, which he intends to sail in the prestigious race for the Duke’s Cup. Sailing is one of the methods Archer intends to use to set young Robbie straight; he figures Robbie will benefit from the wholesome activity while he will gain a needed crewman. Daphne comes sailing with him also, and takes to it immediately. Meanwhile, what started out as a calculated seduction has turned into a genuine friendship. Archer quickly comes to understand that the rumors circulating about Daphne can’t possibly be true, and his focus shifts accordingly.
There is really quite a lot to this book. The information on sailing is expansive and detailed, and Eastwood paints quite a vivid picture of life on the river. I can’t remember ever reading a book with so many details about sailing and the Thames; generally the river seems to be around so villains can dump corpses there. Meanwhile, there is a subplot involving art forgery, and another about Daphne’s tarnished reputation and Archer’s affection for her. All of these elements are tied together in a climactic scene at the end.
I was of two minds about the abundance of material. On one hand, I found this book to be out of the common way, and I liked that Eastwood went into great detail about a subject that rarely even comes up in Regencies. I like drawing room banter and ballroom intrigues, but sometimes it’s nice to see something completely different. Eastwood succeeded admirably in this respect.
On the other hand, at times there is a little too much going on, and the relationship between Daphne and Archer seems like just another small subplot rather than the main basis of the story. Those who like the hero and heroine’s relationship to always be front and center may feel a bit unsatisfied.
Another drawback of the very full plot comes at the end when the villain finally shows up. The book takes a romantic suspense turn at that point, and it just doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; instead it has that tacked on feeling. And the poor villain feels about as realistic as Snidely Whiplash.
Still, I enjoyed this book enough to give it a qualified recommendation. Traditional Regencies are sometimes rather narrow in scope, and authors seem to have a hard time coming up with books that contain elements that are new and interesting without being overly quirky or cute. I’ll take sailing and painting over a match-making llama (or monkey, or parrot) any day. So while the book has its flaws, it’s worth checking out if you’re a Regency fan looking for a little change of pace.




