Madhulika Liddle's Reviews > Barely a Bride

The premise:

Griffin ‘Griff’ Abernathy is a viscount and one of the very secret ‘Free Fellows League’, consisting of Griff and two close friends, who—as young schoolboys—decided they would devote their lives to serving their country and would never ever fall in love.

But, come 1810 and the Peninsular War, Griff buys a commission in the cavalry and is getting ready to leave when his father throws a spanner in the works. Griff is sole heir; he must therefore marry and supply an heir before he goes off to war, possibly to be killed. So Griff has two weeks to find a bride and get married and have her conceive.

Tall order. Fortunately, there is the lovely Alyssa, who would rather be a viscountess and have a garden to create and tend than be duchess. So, after sharing a series of heady kisses soon after they’re introduced, Griff and Alyssa are betrothed. And married, with a honeymoon of three nights before Griff goes off to war.

The problems:

First, the lack of believable feeling between the hero and heroine. Yes, they have loads of sex—they go at it like rabbits, really—but the impression I got was more of lust than love. Where and how that turned into love, I never got a taste of.

Second, the sheer idiocy of so many characters—Griff, his parents, Alyssa, their family and friends—actually believing that it was not just possible, but highly likely for her to get pregnant after three nights and as many days of hectic sex. (Umm, it’s not the number of days that matter, it’s something else. And just because she has two sisters who’re pregnant and one who’s just had a baby, it doesn’t mean she will get pregnant at the drop of a hat).

Thirdly, the many gaps in research. The ease with which ‘setting one free’ of a marriage—annulment or divorce—is spoken of (both very difficult in Regency England). The idea of multiple bridesmaids (not something that came into vogue until the Victorian era). The bride signing in the registry with her married name (she didn’t; her maiden name was used). And more, including wedding rings, the social norms dictating interactions between people of different classes, the ease and frequency (or not) with which soldiers in the Peninsula received and sent packages and letters.

Then, the dangerously horny character of the heroine. Yes, I know and acknowledge that you want to make love to the husband you haven’t seen for a year, but surely you can keep your hands off him while he recovers from wounds that seem hair-raisingly horrible (a cart and horse having been driven over a man already battered by saber and bullet and bayonet is hardly likely to leave him capable of much in the way of husbandly duties)… but then, I suppose if the husband is the type to eagerly grab at bared breasts simply because he’s just had a breakdown because of post-battle trauma, it’s fair.

Lastly, the Americanisms and anachronisms. Write me, randy and Watch me are not likely to be words people in Regency England would have used, and I’d bet a butler in that period wouldn’t have told his mistress (a duchess, no less) “Don’t be so bloody noble”.

I have a soft spot for the marriage of convenience trope. This book, despite using that trope, was too tiresome.