Dig this cover! I didn’t realize Victorians were cool with the tube top wedding dress look.
So, given my love of telenovelas, I hope no one is particularly surprised by the fact that I also love romance novels. They’re glorious, delightful fun, and I think they fit in with the rest of the dramatic, tropetastic stuff I like to recap here.
I wanted to do this series in order, but I have predictions post-this book, and I wanted to get them out there before the next installment comes out and Lisa Kleypas grinds my dreams to dust.
Anyway, to the book. This book is the third in the Ravenels series, and the bajillionth in the Wallflowers-Hathaways-Ravenels ‘verse. When we last left the Ravenels, Pandora was nineteen-going-on-twenty, and the comedy relief of the series. The first two Ravenel books are basically back-to-back, but this one skips ahead a few years. We’re well out of the Regency now, and chilling in the mid-Victorian era (1876). It was a pretty wild year — Rutherford “Rutherfraud” B. Hayes was elected, the telephone was patented, and Ericsson was founded. It was a good year for phones, apparently.
For the sake of clarity, all the actual prose from the book is in italics. Everything else is jokes and paraphrasing.
We open with a prologue, where after many moons we’re reunited with Evie and Sebastian, the protagonists of Devil in Winter. By now, they have grandkids, as well as an adult son. Said adult son (“Gabriel”, who is now the new Lord St. Vincent) was caught in a compromising position with Pandora Ravenel, and scandal is afoot. Evie’s like, “What kind of scandal?” and Sebastian’s like, “Not important, we’re just here so that everyone who read Devil in Winter knows we’re still having sex.” Ten years from now, Lisa Kleypas is going to write Devil in Summer, and Sebastian and Evie will probably still be going at it as septuagenarians.
The ~scandal~ happened two days ago, at a ball. Pandora and her twin sister Cassandra are at a ball in London, having a Season. Cassandra is enjoying it, because she is the good twin, and Pandora is bored out of her mind, because she’s Not Like the Other Girls. (Although in fairness, I believe she’s meant to have undiagnosed ADHD.) Plus, she hates dancing, makes up words, and wants to invent board games. Lady Berwick, her chaperone, is all snippy that Pandora is wasting her Season and hasn’t caught a husband yet. She wants to know if there’s a single guy Pandora’s into, and Pandora’s like, “I mean, we’re part of the British upper-class, the same gene pool that birthed Benedict Cumberbatch, so…no.” Moreover, Pandora doesn’t particularly want a husband, since marriage would get in the way of her career as a budding board-game impresario. Lady Berwick thinks board games are nonsense, probably because she’s never played a really intense game of Scrabble. That shit gets personal.
Anyway, Lady Berwick delivers a lecture on why Pandora needs to care what the ton thinks of her and how the nail that sticks up gets hammered down, blah blah blah. Pandora feels pretty crappy about her inability to fit in, but then she’s distracted by her friend, Dolly. Dolly’s married to some old guy, so she was sneaking off to the pool house summer house to mack it with one of her young, hot ex-suitors on the side. Pandora’s like, “Why didn’t you just marry the young hot guy?” and Dolly says, “Love is for middle-class girls.” Heh. Anyway, while they were getting horizontal, Dolly lost her earring, and she wants Pandora to get it back for her. Pandora doesn’t love the idea of going outside in the dark — the first of many hints about her disability — but she agrees to do it anyway. Like all romance heroines, especially in Lisa Kleypas books, Pandora is all naive and virginal, so she goes wandering into the house like, “Golly, what could they have been doing on the settee? I wonder how you lose your earring when you meet up with a guy in the dark?”
The plot arrives real quick when Pandora finds the earring behind the couch, and gets herself stuck in the fancy scrollwork while she’s reaching for it. The hero of the story arrives half a minute later, snarking at her for being trapped in a sofa. “My dress is caught in the settee,” Pandora explains, “and I would be much obliged if you would help me out of it!” “The dress or the settee?” Gabriel asks. How you doin’? He helps her out, hitting on her all the while — but alas, when they get out of the house, they’re busted by some uppity rich guy, whose wife Sebastian banged way back when. He’s looking for an excuse to get revenge on Sebastian and willing to do it via his kid, so he’s like, “You could have only been up to something scandalous in there! SCANDAL, I SAY! IT SURE WOULD BE A SHAME IF I TOLD EVERYONE ABOUT THIS SCANDAL.” Everyone’s like, “Oh no, not scandal!” Westcliff, another character from previous books, pops up and tries to save the situation, but it’s too late, and now they all have to figure out a way to deal with Pandora’s reputation.
You know what this means: ARRANGED MARRIAGE TIME! Aw, yis.
Gabriel’s not happy about this whole situation, since he’s a romance hero and was never going to get married because that would kill his boner, blah blah blah. He lowkey thinks Pandora’s really hot, though, so he’s looking forward to the wedding night, at least. Westcliff’s all charmed by her: “A wallflower,” he said softly, with a faint, reminiscent smile on his lips. I mean, if you forgot that we’re just on a whole Wallflowers nostalgia trip here. (I love those books, but I’m just sayin’.) So the next day, they go to Ravenel house to work out when and how Gabriel and Pandora should get married. Devon and Kathleen — the protagonists of the first Ravenel book — make an appearance, in a more responsible capacity than their own book, where they were making out and banging all over the estate. Devon is the earl, so they’re basically in charge of Pandora now. They’re not sure they want to let Pandora marry Gabriel, and Pandora shows up to make it clear that she doesn’t want to marry him either. Gabriel’s like, “Well, I didn’t want to marry you first (but we should definitely make out).” They exchange glares full of tension, because they liiike each other. Gabriel’s all disturbed by his attraction to her, and decides to go hook up with his mistress. That’s not going to work, Gabriel. This is a romance novel, and you’re going to be repulsed by all the times you had sex with her and run off to the sweet, virginal fields of the Romance Heroine Double Standard.
The next-next day, Gabriel rolls up to Jenner’s, the location of most of the action of Devil in Winter. There’s some backstory about how Sebastian took over the club when Evie inherited it from her dad, Ivo Jenner (who was a secondary character in that book). Apparently one of their kids is named after Ivo, which I rolled my eyes at. That dude was a douche, and none of the books acknowledge that. But whatever. Also, how come Cam Rohan never gets a name drop? They’re all like, “He’s like a brother to Evie! He’s Sebastian’s closest friend! We’re never going to mention him again.” Anyway, Gabriel waxes on about his girl problems to his dad, and Sebastian’s like, “I mean, you don’t have to marry her. We can always sell her off to someone else! Problem solved!” Oh. I was hoping Sebastian was maybe less of an asshole after thirty years, but apparently not. But no, Gabriel’s got a mad crush on Pandora now — so much so that he’s not even banging his mistress (“Nola”) anymore. His mistress, by the way, is the wife of an American diplomat who was like, paralyzed in the penis during the Civil War or something. I dig this slight acknowledgment of American history! The blurb at the back hints at some political intrigue, and I was like, “Oh, him getting freaky with the wife of the American ambassador has something to do with it.”
It doesn’t. The political plot comes so out of left field it pretty much hits you in the face without you noticing.
Blah blah Gabriel doesn’t want to get married blah. Sebastian waxes on about how ~*~*~wallflowers~*~*~ will steal your heart, because he’s also married to a ~*~*~wallflower~*~*~, remember? Say “wallflower” again. Gabriel’s real concern is that he’s not sure anyone but Nola will be able to satisfy him in the bedroom, because he apparently likes some weird shit. What precisely he likes is never explained, but he’s convinced that no other person in the entire universe will do it with him. He’s all like, “Papa, don’t kinkshame!” and Sebastian has to patiently be like, “Son, the population of London was 2 million in 1861. There is no way you’re the only one who’s not having vanilla missionary sex, Jesus.”
Gabriel doesn’t let up about it, though. He doesn’t let up for like 280 pages.
Anyway, Gabriel emos that he has to be the perfect son for his family, but he has a ~dark side~ that he can’t show anyone. Gabriel hadn’t yet found a way to reconcile the opposing halves of his nature, the angel and the devil. Like the title, get it? Sebastian suggests that they invite the Ravenels to their house, and Gabriel and Pandora can get to know each other and see if they want to get married. Fair enough.
Back at Ravenel House, we get some more updates on characters of books past: Helen and Rhys Winterborne (of the second book in this series) have had a son, and they’re off being happy and Welsh somewhere that is not in this book. I’m pretty sad about that; I think theirs was the best book of this series so far. Devon tells her about the invitation, and Pandora immediately panics: she’s going to fuck up and the Duke and Duchess of Kingston are going to make fun of her. Devon convinces her to go, and tells her that they won’t make her marry Gabriel if she really doesn’t want to. Pandora’s worried that she’s fucked up Cassandra’s chances at marriage with her scandal, and Devon’s like, “Don’t worry, she’s next in line to be a romance heroine, so she’s getting married no matter what happens to her.” Sweetly, he assures her that they would rather have her be safe than married to an asshole, and not-so-subtly digs at romance tropes of the past, telling Pandora that, “Many people believe marriage will change a man’s temperament. Which is absolute rot, of course. One can’t love a leopard into changing his spots.” I don’t believe that romance/erotica can ever really be “feminist”, but Lisa Kleypas used to write pretty bodice-rippey love scenes, and as recently as the Hathaways series she was defending prostitution, so it’s nice to see her views keep evolving.
And thus, they go to Gabriel’s house, called “Heron’s Point.” After ten years, we finally learn that Sebastian’s family name is Challon. Cassandra relays all the gossip she’s heard about Gabriel at the various society events, and Pandora’s like, “Wow, I would not have been so pretentious about balls if I had known people spent them talking shit.” Heh. Cassandra tells Pandora about Gabriel’s mistress, and Pandora groans that he’s probably a walking STD by now. HA! Pandora grumps all the way to Sussex, and writes all her thoughts down in her journal: “When you’ve been ruined, there are only two options: death or marriage[…]Since I am gravely healthy, the first option isn’t likely[…]On the other hand, ritual self-sacrifice in Iceland cannot be ruled out.” I like Pandora’s voice a lot, actually. It’s a pity that it sort of gets flattened out into a quirkier version of the generic virginal heroine after a while.
They roll up to the Challons’ estate, and the first thing Pandora sees is an eyeful of Gabriel wandering around without his cravat or waistcoat, and she gets all twitterpated that she can see his collarbones or whatever. Gabriel’s hanging out with his younger brothers and helping them fly kites, because he’s good with kids, too (cue spontaneous ovulation). Pandora immediately gets along with all of them, and they have a family dog that jumps all over her, to which everyone has a hearty chuckle. Pandora meets Sebastian and muses that she wishes her dad had been like him. What a charming and unusual family! I don’t know, obviously we wouldn’t want Sebastian and Evie to be stuck-up or have anything other than a perfect, welcoming family, but it’s all kinda pat, you know?
Evie also says hi to Pandora and makes her feel welcome, but she pretty much drops out of the book after this 🙁
Gabriel is all charmed by Pandora, and has gone from being perturbed by her to being in love with her in about half a chapter. He still has reservations over how well she’ll take to being a duchess, but he’s like, “She’s so hot and quirky, it doesn’t matter!” Honestly, I’m a little disappointed, because I love the “Savvy Guy, Energetic Girl” trope, and I wanted Gabriel and Pandora to go in that direction. I was hoping they’d have more of a banter-y relationship where they’re unwillingly charmed by each other, instead of her just being adorably whimsical and him lusting after her constantly.
Anyway, Gabriel’s like, “Hey baby, I like BDSM and long walks on the beach,” except not the first part. Accordingly, they go to the beach, with Gabriel’s sister Phoebe chaperoning them. She was last seen in one of the Hathaways books as an infant, and is now a grieving widow. Bets on whether or not she’ll end up with someone else in this series? She leaves Gabriel alone to hit on Pandora some more, and they agree to try and get to know each other, even though Pandora insists she still doesn’t want to get married. She doesn’t object to making out, though.
They all go swimming at the beach. Gabriel watches Pandora, describing her as playing with the unselfconscious ease of a child. Er…okay. They flirt a little, then they get into talk about Pandora’s board-game company. Pandora tells him that she’d rather be a businesswoman than a wife. They get into a whole argument about coverture laws and how Pandora shockingly does not love the idea of her entire legal identity being stripped and put under the control of her husband. She points out that even if Gabriel’s not abusive, she has no legal rights, and she has to trust that he would make the right decisions for her instead of being able to make them herself. Get down with your bad, second-wave feminist self, Pandora!
She’s going to marry him anyway, of course. Sigh.
“You’re . . . not entirely wrong,” [Gabriel] forced himself to say, nearly choking on the words. Men can’t stand losing arguments to women, news at 11. He tells her he’ll find a legal loophole that will allow her to still run her board-game company, and Pandora’s like, “There isn’t one, and I still don’t want to marry you, bye.” Hee.
I think it would’ve been nice if this scene had made Gabriel respect her, or showed a progression of understanding in their relationship. Instead, he’s already decided that he wants her body, and so now he’s just trying to figure out a way to steamroll over her objections. Whatever.
Over the next few days, Pandora is all twitterpated over their kiss. Gabriel hits on her some more and she’s all flustered and not sure what to do, and grumbles that he does everything perfectly. Gabriel’s like, “I’m not perfect, I have ~dark secrets~.” More hints at his mysterious kink! Is he a furry? I think that’s a pretty dark secret. Pandora thinks he has syphilis. HA! Gabriel says he doesn’t, because he uses 19th-century condoms, but then of course Pandora doesn’t know what those are, because she’s the most virginal virgin to have ever virgined. See, they make all these references to Pandora and Cassandra running amok and reading all the naughty books in the library without supervision, and girl doesn’t even know what a French letter is? Come on, man. Gabriel waxes on some more about how hot she is, and Pandora needles him a little: Only yesterday, she’d heard Gabriel affectionately mock his father, who was fond of expressing himself with elaborate, almost labyrinthine turns of phrase. Clearly the gift had been passed down to his son. Hee. I like how Kleypas is a little aware of how purple Sebastian’s dialogue was.
They have a dinner and invite some local families over; Pandora tries to act to normal but of course totally fails. After dinner, Gabriel whisks Pandora off to play cards in the kitchen and regales her with tales of his childhood in a gambling club. Weirdly, Pandora’s all grateful that he treats her like an adult. Pandora? You are an adult. If you’re not, this book got about ten times grosser. They make a bet that if Pandora wins their game of whist, Gabriel will sing “God Save the Queen” in the front hall. If Gabriel wins, he gets to booty call Pandora tonight. Gabriel wins, of course. Pandora’s all like, “I mustn’t go, it would be improper! But there’s a contractual obligation for at least one character to have an orgasm by the 10th chapter! WHAT DO.”
She goes, of course. She trips all over herself in the dark and loses one of her slippers, but eventually makes it to the parlor, where Gabriel’s waiting. They’re going to make out in the family parlor? They don’t have a nice broom closet? It’s a classic spot for a reason. I’m just saying, someone’s gonna get up for water in the middle of the night, and that’s going to be awkward. Gabriel notices that Pandora had some issues walking in the dark, and figures out that she has undiagnosed tinnitus. Pandora tells him that when she was little, her father caught her eavesdropping and boxed her ears, busting the eardrum in one of them. Gabriel goes into overprotective alpha mode all, “I would poison him, shoot him four times, and throw him in the river!” But no, see, Pandora forgives her father, because she’s such an ingenue that she understands that he had his own ~pain. Whatever, Pandora.
Anyway, they’re all turned on by talking about her traumatic childhood, so they make out and love scene #1 ensues. They don’t have sex, but Gabriel goes down on her. Pandora’s all flustered and doesn’t know what an erection is, so Gabriel has to teach her, because of course he does. She doesn’t really even know what’s happening to her, which is weird. I thought she and Cassandra were supposed to be improper, but like…never? Literally never? I mean, it’s mentioned in an earlier book that they were taught that the vulva is a black hole of shame and sin, but man, if even Tori “All My Music is About Christian Shame” Amos has masturbated, you can do it too, Pandora. She tries to rip off his shirt, but can’t do it, and Gabriel’s all like, “She’s so hot when she’s awkward!” [He] felt an irresistible laugh swell in his chest as he looked down at her, his small and determined pirate, who was having a moment of unexpected difficulty with bodice-ripping. Something about this feels kind of…condescending to me? I don’t know. There’s so much of this, “Look at her having no idea what she’s doing, how adorable” from Gabriel. It gets weird, you feel?
There’s a mildly funny moment where Gabriel tries to get all purple prose on her about how hot she is, and she’s like, “You’re talking into my bad ear.” Heh. It’s an okay love scene, although kind of weird in that Pandora has no idea what’s going on, and Gabriel’s like, “I must ~teach her the ways of sex!” On the other hand, that’s par for the course with Lisa Kleypas, so whatever. Post-afterglow, Pandora presses Gabriel to admit the worst thing about himself, and he tells her he has a tentacle fetish. No, just kidding. His deep shame is actually that his mistress is married, and he considers the bond of marriage to be sacred, except when he’s into whatever mysterious kinky shit he’s into and someone else’s wife is the only person who will get down with him. Then marriage is just like, a mild inconvenience. He admits that he bought a house so they can make the beast with two backs away from her husband, and Pandora’s like, “People do that? I am scandalized.” I’m scandalized by him buying a whole house for booty calls. Excuse me, I have to feel poor for a minute.
Pandora wants to know why Gabriel’s on this high horse about marriage when he’s sleeping with a married woman, and he admits to basically being a slave to his boner. Again: 2 million people in London, 10 years before this book was set, and not a single other person who shares his kink? Whatever. Pandora’s like, “Bro, what do you do to women that’s so weird?” A good question! He won’t tell her, but Pandora volunteers that she’s up for anything, since she has a big ol’ crush on him now. Yikes. I wouldn’t make that kind of open-ended deal, Pandora. We haven’t ruled out the furry possibility yet.
The next day, Pandora talks about her crush with Kathleen, and how she still doesn’t want to get married because she can’t vote. They name-drop Benjamin Disraeli and mention that he supports women’s suffrage. Then Pandora meets with Gabriel, and he tells that while she still can’t own her company as a married woman, she would be able to keep all her earnings, per the Married Women’s Property Act. This book is so educational. It’s like a Nancy Drew game. Pandora’s still hesitant, and Gabriel’s like, “I can’t believe your civil rights are more important to you than making out with me.” Hey, alternate option: Pandora could get married, they could have sex for a while, then she could kill Gabriel and live that sweet, sweet widow life. Then everyone’s happy! I’m just throwing that out there.
Gabriel sends Pandora note with one of the decorative bits of her missing slipper, telling her to come meet him or he’ll keep pulling stuff off of it. It’s super hot when guys destroy your possessions! Her sister knitted that slipper for her, I should add. Interestingly, Pandora’s maid (“Ida”) is all pissed that Pandora would rather work for a living than get married:
“You’re refusing to marry the heir to the Duke of Kingston because you’d rather work?”
“I like work,” Pandora said curtly.
“Only because you don’t have to do it all the time!”
A good point, although not one that the book lingers on. Anyway, Pandora goes off to meet Gabriel, and he gives her a lesson in waltzing. He teaches her to spot, which…I don’t think helps with tinnitus? There was a Goodreads thread about that somewhere, which I’m too lazy to find now. Well, whatever, the power of love fixes Pandora’s balance problems, and she decides that she’s in love with him and giving up her civil rights is worth it. Sigh.
So three weeks after meeting, they get married. Pandora makes Gabriel remove the “obey” bit from their wedding vows, which he does: “What would I do with a meek and submissive Pandora? There would be no sport in that.” He sits on a throne of LIES! But we’ll get to that. Gabriel thinks back to the wedding festivities, and gets weirdly jealous over Winterborne, Pandora’s brother-in-law and business mentor. He’s all like, “Pandora has a platonic relationship with another man! She listens when he speaks! QUELLE HORREUR!” Chill the fuck out, Gabriel. Nevertheless, they have their wedding night and their honeymoon, and it’s relatively normal.
When they get back to London, Gabriel hires a footman (“Drago”) to follow Pandora around, because she’s so adorably clumsy and naive and will surely be taken advantage of on the mean streets of London. Pandora doesn’t like Drago at all: she calls him “scowly and growly”, for one. I…don’t know how to feel about Pandora making up words. I mean, I totally do it, and it’s not like it’s a mark of immaturity exactly, but…it does make her sound a lot younger than she is, especially in contrast to Gabriel’s speech. “Scowly and growly” in particular just straight-up makes her sound like a preteen. Gabriel thinks about how if he had his way, he would never let such a perfect innocent angel out into the world, but alas, he must let her go, though he fears the gritty outdoors will crush her spirit because she’s so fragile and vulnerable. He’s so weird, you guys. Pandora goes out, and he tells her to “Be a good girl.” Ick. Your wife is a grown-ass woman, Gabriel.
There’s a bizarre interlude, where Pandora asks Drago how to pronounce his name, and he tells her that everyone’s been pronouncing it wrong this whole time. The A is pronounced like the A in “dragon” and Pandora’s like, “Oh, then I’ll just call you ‘Dragon’,” and from here on out, she and the book both refer to him as Dragon. Okay, but…what was the point of asking him to pronounce it if you weren’t gonna say it right anyway, Pandora? (Does this seem kinda racist to anyone else?)
Pandora goes out to work some more on her board game — she’s found a factory to print the games, in Clerkenwell. Drago’s all like, “Ugh, that’s a bad neighborhood, it’s full of IRISH PEOPLE.” Pandora wants to go there, though, because the factory owner is a widow, and [Pandora] liked the idea of supporting other women in business. She also doesn’t believe in punishing all Irish people for the Fenians. Naturally, once she’s at the factory, she catches the widow (“Mrs. O’Cairre”) having a shady discussion with some dude. Drago goes to investigate, and finds materials for a bomb in the factory. See? This is what comes from trying to support women and not buying into ethnic prejudice. You end up in the middle of a bomb plot. I’m sure Lisa Kleypas didn’t mean it, but that’s some unfortunate subtext.
Drago reports back to Gabriel, and says that he knows a guy who can look into this for them. I only mention this because it’ll come up again later, obviously. Gabriel’s like, “Whatever, Irish terrorists, whatever,” and goes off to bang Pandora some more. He decides that he has to “punish” her for her bad choice in printing factories. And thus, we finally get to the kink part of the book. What could his mysterious, shameful, singular kink be? What is this thing that he’s into that only one woman in London is willing to do with him?
(Dudes, if Gabriel had wanted Pandora to peg him, that would have been the greatest thing I have ever read in a mainstream historical romance novel, ever.)
[…]so trusting and still. So innocent. He thought of what he’d once told her, that there were certain things gentlemen didn’t ask of their wives. She’d said something about being willing, but it had been obvious she didn’t understand a damned thing about what he’d meant.
But first, let’s have round bajillion of “Her complete ignorance about sex is such a turn-on!” I feel like Lisa Kleypas needs to be banned from using the word “innocent” for the foreseeable future. Every time she uses it, it’s almost always in reference to a grown woman, usually in the midst of making out, having sex, or when a grown man describes how hot she is. It’s gross. Lisa, I am taking this word away until you can use it responsibly.
His heart drummed as he deftly tied her wrists to the corset, taking care not to make the cords too tight.
So Gabriel’s kink is…comparatively light bondage? I swear to god, he was hinting at his dark shameful kink so often that I was beginning to think he was into some like, freaky deep web rubber bodysuit shit.
To be honest, I’m actually kind of relieved — Kleypas’s last attempt at bondage (the Friday Harbor series) was not good, at all. I’m also gonna just say that I don’t support BDSM — not just Fifty Shades-style disguised abuse, but even “consensual” BDSM. I don’t think abuse is acceptable just because it gets you off, and I wouldn’t trust a man who’s aroused by making women powerless. You can’t say BDSM exists in a vacuum when we live in a world that romanticizes and eroticizes male domination of women (and the vast majority of BDSM is male doms and female subs). So I’m glad that this is as far as it ever goes — I don’t think I even consider it objectionable.
On the other hand, after all that buildup, I was expecting him to at least whip out a fursuit and ask her to call him Sonic.
There’s a few more references later on to Pandora leaving bite marks on him, so I guess he basically just likes it rough. Which no one else in the entire country of England except for Pandora and his mistress are into. Okay, Gabriel.
Gabriel, Pandora, and some secondary characters go to the theater, where his ex-mistress is also in attendance. Helen wants to introduce Pandora to some of her friends, and Pandora has to ask Gabriel’s permission to go over and talk to them.
“I’d rather you stayed with me.”
“It’s just over there,” she protested. “We’re going to have to wait for the carriage regardless.”
Reluctantly Gabriel let go of her.
“Is my wife allowed to go over and talk to some of her sister’s friends? I DON’T KNOW, LET ME THINK ABOUT IT.” Please love yourself, Pandora.
Gabriel’s ex-mistress tries to start some drama, and while Gabriel is distracted by her, Mrs. O’Cairre shows up and (reluctantly) stabs Pandora. Whoa, what is this, a plot? Showing up in the last five chapters of the book? You don’t say. They rush her to the not-hospital, while Lisa Kleypas continues to describe Pandora weirdly: Pandora relaxed and subsided, her fist closing in a fold of Gabriel’s shirt like a baby’s. Bro, at this point, I will pay her to stop describing female characters as small, innocent, and/or having childlike enthusiasm.
They get her to Winterborne’s private medical facility, because of course he has one. There Pandora is attended to by Dr. Gibson, who we also met in the second book of this series. She’s a lady doctor and also a total badass, but Gabriel’s all like, “Excuse you, shouldn’t there be a doctor here?” Dr. Gibson’s like, “I am the doctor, fool.” God, I love her. Gabriel frets about how he wants Pandora to have the best treatment possible, which obviously means that she needs a male doctor. Do doctors perform surgery with their penises, Gabriel? Do they like, use them to hold the scalpel? No? Then shut.
Pandora survives the operation, and Drago shows up with a detective from Scotland Yard (his aforementioned contact). The detective is Ethan Ransom, and he had a brief appearance in the previous book, so obviously he will be important. He and Dr. Gibson exchange some barbs about how he tried to protect her from ruffians in the bad part of London once, and she totally didn’t need his protection, thank you very much. They’re so going to end up married.
Gabriel beats himself up for letting Pandora get hurt, and his parents show up and are like, “Remember that time in our book when Sebastian got stabbed because of Evie? Parallels, do you see them?” Anyway, after a while Pandora heals, and wants to get back to work on her board game. Gabriel tells her that he already told Winterborne that she wouldn’t make the Christmas deadline, and Pandora flips out that he’s doing exactly what he promised not to do: make decisions for her and force her to follow them. Dr. Gibson’s like, “You dudes need to get laid,” so…they have sex, and that solves the problem. What?
Mr. Ransom comes back with the plot in tow. He tells them that Mrs. O’Cairre is dead, apparently from suicide, but he has his doubts. Yet, they can’t inspect the body because ~*~for some reason~*~ the police and secret service are blocking the investigation. Corruption? In 19th-century London? It’s more likely than you think. Mr. Ransom knows someone from the Home Office is involved, and he thinks that they’re encouraging Irish anarchy to have an excuse to deport the Irish and end the possibility of Home Rule. He’s going to bust the case wide open, but he needs Pandora’s help. They’ve cracked some of the terrorists’ communications, so they know that they’re going to be meeting at a reception for the Prince of Wales. She’s the only one who saw the mysterious dude Mrs. O’Cairre was talking to that day at the factory, so he wants her to go to the reception to identify him. Gabriel’s all, “My fragile flower of a wife! SHE CANNOT GO, I FORBID IT.”
The next scene: Pandora and Gabriel are on their way to the reception. HEE. I think their relationship would’ve worked better if Gabriel was more clearly written as a charming guy who’s actually a bit of a neurotic dork underneath, and who ends up getting steamrolled by Pandora a lot. The way he’s set up as being laid-back and charming, but then all his concern is written as “possessive alpha male who must protect his woman”, really throws his character off-kilter. Anyway, they meet up with Ransom at the reception, and he’s snarky about the whole thing:
“A spectacular lack of police presence, isn’t it?” Glancing at the rows of mounted Coldstream guards and ceremonial honor guard officers, he commented, “No real weapons. But thank God there’s plenty of gold braid, epaulets, medals, and shiny breast plates. If the anarchists attack, we can blind them with our sparkly decorations.”
Heh. I’m excited for his book (which is supposed to be the next in the series).
Pandora IDs the man from the factory, and Ransom and Gabriel hurry off to arrest him. Left behind, Pandora and Drago watch the dancing, and Pandora notes that people keep tripping over a particular spot on the floor. They pull up the floor and see a bunch of bombs, and all hell breaks loose. Gabriel disarms the bombs, because he can do that too, because why not. Ransom chases after their culprit, but he commits suicide rather than be interrogated. Ransom bids Gabriel and Pandora farewell and tells them never to mention him to anyone, because he has to go underground to investigate this conspiracy. Is his book going to be investigating political corruption Watergate-style while making out with the hot lady doctor? I want it now.
Ransom tells them that they’ll never see him again, and Gabriel’s like, “Well, first of all, you clearly have a ton of sexual tension with our family friend, and you’re also clearly secretly related to the Ravenels, so.” Ransom denies it, but Gabriel points out that he has the same eyes as they do. Ransom isn’t buying it: “My father was a prison guard. My mother’s profession is one I can’t mention in polite company. I’m no Ravenel, my lord.”
And yet somehow, I bet he is.
Pandora and Gabriel go home after some cute banter. And then we have the epilogue, where Dr. Gibson operates on Pandora’s ear. She tells her that they won’t be able to completely recover her hearing, but they should be able to reduce her vertigo. Aw, that’s nice. Pandora’s since published her board game, and she goes to Winterbone’s to check on how it’s selling. It’s completely sold out (“It pains [Winterborne’s] mercantile heart not to be able to sell a product that’s in such high demand.” HEE) and Pandora thinks about her plans to make more games and even children’s toys. Gabriel’s all proud of her success, and they make out in the middle of the store. ~*~THE END~*~
[ETA: The line I originally wrote here was that this book was still “pretty good”, but the more I think about it, the less I like it. It’s written well enough and has enough decent moments to be fun to read, but goddamn it is just a mess. The plot is all over the place, the characterizations veer everywhere and Gabriel’s is creepy like 70% of the time, and having reread the first two books in the series, it makes NO DAMN SENSE for Pandora to be the third protagonist. This should’ve been Cassandra’s or even West’s book; Pandora should’ve become a delightful board game impresario and self-made woman, a la Kleypas heroes Simon Hunt and Rhys Winterbourne, and then found love and realized capitalism isn’t everything. The trope is recognizable enough that the gender reversal would’ve been cool and novel, and Pandora might then be less naive and quirky, plus she wouldn’t have to negotiate her entire dream for a man.]
I would love for Pandora to have not been written like a teenager at some points, but I also think that would’ve been more palatable if there hadn’t been so much of Gabriel being actively turned on by her ignorance. I think Gabriel in general was unfortunately pretty generic, and veered pointlessly between being a charming snarker and an obsessive alpha male. Early in the book, he’s largely concerned about how being with Pandora would affect his and his family’s image, which is douchey but I think a good conflict that would have filled in his character better. Instead, it devolved largely into him obsessing over how hot she is, trying to steamroll over her legitimate objections to marriage, and freaking out every time she’s five steps away from him. I also wish the terrorist plot had had more prominence, and I was really expecting Gabriel’s involvement with the American ambassador’s wife to be relevant, dammit. The book was still enjoyable, though, especially towards the end. When Gabriel and Pandora did banter, instead of being sappy together, it was pretty cute. The Gilligan Cut of them going to the reception after Gabriel forbade it was really funny and illustrated the kind of tone and humor I wish the rest of the book had had.
Next up is Dr. Gibson and Mr. Ransom’s book, which I am conflicted on. On the one hand: I want all of Dr. Gibson’s lady doctor walking-stick fencing adventures, and I am always here for heroes who aren’t members of the aristocracy. And he’s a detective! They Fight Crime!
On the other hand: I want Cassandra to find love so badly 🙁 I read somewhere that this is now a 5-book series, instead of 4, so I’m hoping that she’s the last in line. I was idling around wondering who she would end up with, and I hit on the idea of Cassandra/West, which I admit is totally random, but now I’m invested in the idea and I want it, precious. But with my luck, it won’t happen, so I need Lisa Kleypas to just release Cassandra’s book and crush my dreams before I attach myself even further to this idea.
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