A Most Unsuitable Man by Jo Beverley
Feb. 1st, 2010 12:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meganbmooreThis is another in Beverley’s seemingly endless Georgian series about the Mallorens and everyone they ever met. Thankfully, she doesn’t fill the book with references to previous books, but I maintain that it’s time to write Georgians independent of the Mallorens already. It’s a good thing I like Rothgar, though.
The book starts near the end of Winter Fire, with Damaris Myddleton learning that her almost-fiance, Ashart, is going to marry someone else instead, and is just barely saved from making a complete fool of herself by Ashart’s friend, Fitzroger, who’d been trying to distract her Ashart and Genova in WF. Damaris was largely portrayed as a stereotypical Evil Other Woman in WF, and I pretty much always approve of stories that decide Evil Other Women are just as human as Perfect Heroines (not that Genova was a Perfect Heroine, but…) instead of tools to make them look good. Damaris was raised in near-poverty, only to learn that her father left her a fortune that her mother, who hated her father, was too proud to use, and she decides to use that fortune to “marry up.” Fitzroger, having come to rather like her during his distracting assignment, suggests she holds out for a bigger fish, and that she shamelessly use him for a flirtation to prove to everyone that she isn’t pining and heartbroken. He suffers. Truly.
Fitzroger is also Sekritly ASpy Bodyguard assigned to protect Ashart from unexplained danger, but when plot machinations result in Damaris, Genova, Fitzroger and Ashart travelling together, it becomes questionable rather Ashart of Damaris is the target. Oh, and Damaris and Genova become friends, making them part of a teeny school of fish that represent women who were romantic rivals and become friends. This teeny school of fish stands string against the endless tide of men in fiction who show their manly bonds of friendship by not letting silly women come between them and treating her as a plot device to highlight their manly bonds. Things in fiction that make me happy also bring out my bitterness over annoying tropes. Sad but true.
This is one of Beverley’s more adventurous books, with chases and poisonings and attempted murders and secret marriages and conspiracy theories and even some swordfighting. It’s not her best, but it’s quite fun.
The book starts near the end of Winter Fire, with Damaris Myddleton learning that her almost-fiance, Ashart, is going to marry someone else instead, and is just barely saved from making a complete fool of herself by Ashart’s friend, Fitzroger, who’d been trying to distract her Ashart and Genova in WF. Damaris was largely portrayed as a stereotypical Evil Other Woman in WF, and I pretty much always approve of stories that decide Evil Other Women are just as human as Perfect Heroines (not that Genova was a Perfect Heroine, but…) instead of tools to make them look good. Damaris was raised in near-poverty, only to learn that her father left her a fortune that her mother, who hated her father, was too proud to use, and she decides to use that fortune to “marry up.” Fitzroger, having come to rather like her during his distracting assignment, suggests she holds out for a bigger fish, and that she shamelessly use him for a flirtation to prove to everyone that she isn’t pining and heartbroken. He suffers. Truly.
Fitzroger is also Sekritly A
This is one of Beverley’s more adventurous books, with chases and poisonings and attempted murders and secret marriages and conspiracy theories and even some swordfighting. It’s not her best, but it’s quite fun.