There’s an awful lot not to like about this book, so why did I basically like it?

Lady Margaret Wentworth supports herself and her contingent of servants by working as a part-time investigative reporter for a London journal. Under the pseudonym originally created and used by her brother, she anonymously exposes corruption in the manner of a Regency-era Mike Wallace.

James Huttledon, Lord Ramsey, is the victim of that old standby plot device – the deathbed vow. Deeply indebted to Maggie’s brother Gerald for saving his life on the battlefields of France, James promises the dying Gerald that he will watch over the sister he leaves behind. James is the kind of guy who takes a promise like that very, very seriously.

Problem is, the Bow Street Runner he hires to locate Maggie mistakenly convinces James that Maggie is, in fact, the infamous Lady X, an alleged noblewoman who sells her favors nightly to the gentlemen of the ton.

But we know, of course, that Maggie is in Lady X’s brothel working on a story – not the patrons. But through a series of circumstances that are painfully circumstantial, James ends up abducting Maggie and taking her to his country estate.

Herein lies a problem. The plot hinges on a Big Misunderstanding – and, regretfully, one that goes on and on for a good chunk of the book. James seeks to “reform” Maggie. Maggie doesn’t realize that he thinks she’s a prostitute. Well, you get the picture.

Of course, while the animosity between the two characters builds, the attraction grows, climaxing with a scene in which James is discovered by his beloved aunt under Maggie’s skirts. (I think that’s the first time I’ve run across that one!)

Fortunately, though, the misunderstanding is (finally) discovered and Maggie returns to her own home and her much-loved collection of servants. But there’s another problem afoot. Someone is clearly determined to kill Maggie.

Or at least that’s the way James sees it. Unfortunately, despite substantial evidence to the contrary in the form of repeated attempts on her life, our seasoned investigative reporter refuses to believe she is in danger. And even when Maggie does finally accept her peril, she engages in behavior worthy of the most asinine heroine in a teenage slasher flick. This, fellow reader, is not intelligent.

So, we have a major misunderstanding, a heroine whose behavior definitely flirts with TSTL syndrome, a deathbed vow, a heroine as an anonymous writer – and, in spite of all that, a surprisingly readable book.

I liked James and thought he was quite charming and funny in that appealingly self-deprecating kind of way. And despite the fact that I definitely developed a great deal of empathy for the person determined to take her out, Maggie is quite likable, too. Lynsay Sands is a skilled writer and the relationship that develops between the two is decidedly entertaining – and definitely on the sexy side. Ms. Sands takes more than a few chances with her love scenes and I thought they were terrific.

But I also have to mention one other problem with the book – one that I’ll guess the author shares. The cover is one of the most offensive I’ve run across in a long time, featuring our heroine slung over the shoulder of her hero in that classic Rhett Butler way. Even worse, said heroine is wearing an adorably chagrined expression.

So, while it’s not perfect – it is, in fact, far from perfect – I have to say that I enjoyed more than I didn’t enjoy about The Reluctant Reformer – a charming, entertaining, but, nevertheless, frustrating read.