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In my last WOMS, I shared about the first book in the League of Extraordinary Women series by Evie Dunmore, Bringing Down the Duke. You may recall I was enthralled by her debut novel which, in agreement with the critics, probably changed the course of historical fiction. Said novel reminded me of what I assume that hit series Bridgerton is like, having never watched it myself, but Victorian and not Regency. Turns out, Dunmore’s novel precedes it by a year, so perhaps she did alter historical fiction after all?
Would it then come as a surprise if I immediately went out and borrowed her next two novels—A Rogue of One’s Own and Portrait of a Scotsman—from my local library? Naturally, I read the next book posthaste, but found I wasn’t as pressed to finish the second installment as quickly as the first. I think this could have been one of two things.
First, the most compelling attribute of Dunmore’s first novel was the relatability, and subsequent authenticity, I had with the main characters, Annabelle and Montgomery, which made the unfolding drama of their story deeply poignant for me. I did not find this to be true for me this time around with Rogue. That’s fine and perfectly normal, and not at all a blight on Dunmore’s writing, which was still as superb as the first.
People will relate to different characters as much as they relate to different humans. (I distinguish with humans since we readers all agree characters are real people to us just as much as real humans are to everyone else.) That’s why you get along with some people, become their friends, etc., or you just can’t stand breathing the same air as others because of how irritating their mouth-breathing can be, but I digress.
When coupled with my second, and probably primary, reason, I think I understand better why I read Rogue at a more leisurely pace: it is the second book; i.e. Dunmore’s writing did not shock me as much. Having been exposed to her unique style with Duke, I kind of knew what to expect (but really didn’t as I’ll explain later), which again—is perfectly okay.
As a reader, I tend to choose specific authors and their series (probably subconsciously until writing these thoughts out) because I trust them and tend to know what’s coming. Or reversely, I don’t trust them because I know they’re just going to rip my heart out, but ultimately they give me the happily ever after I’ve been pining for, so I trust them a little bit because when that happy ending comes, it is perfection. (I’m looking at you Sarah J. Maas. *ahem*)
It’s usually the first book which takes you by surprise, which makes you fall helplessly in love, and then the relationship between reader and author deepens as you read more within their world. I guess what I’m saying is, to continue using this intriguing metaphor, Duke infatuated me whereas Rogue only continued the romance. We read because we want more of an author’s unique style, so even though Rogue seemingly lack that je nais se quois of Duke at first, it was there all along because it belongs to Dunmore, who expresses it through her work. Otherwise I wouldn’t have read it.
Now, those are my subjective feelings about this book, none of which are a reflection of Dunmore’s mastery of fiction. Thus, I’m probably the only one who feels this way about it. To be more objective, I’ll provide that explanation of what I meant when I said I didn’t actually know what to expect.
If you’ve read Duke, then you know how Dunmore, up to the last second, kept you on the edge of your seat, wanting to know if the two main characters would ever end up together. There were so many twists and turns and perils on their road to happily ever after, making the grand finale a sweet, beautiful relief.
In Rogue, she changes it up a bit, and I liked it.
Admittedly, I wondered where the plot was headed since there seemed to be all these different threads dangling about, and I wasn’t sure if the conflict would build to the same intensity as Duke—until it all hit the fan in one big massive explosion.
I loved it!
Unfortunately for my husband, by the time he finished his post-dinner routine, I couldn’t give him the attention he deserved because Rogue had me by the throat and I had to know what came next!
Dunmore completely surprised me. Up until the last few 77 pages, she deceived me with her seemingly smutty but bucolic story of Lucie and Tristan, and then Chapter 31 came and she rained on their county fair (not parade) in a torrential outburst of scandal, false accusations, confessions, and unrequited affections for the rest of the book. AND THEN only in the very final chapter does she give us the happy ending.
Well done, but how dare she.
In that way alone, Rogue was so unlike Duke.
The other more obvious way is how she executed the romance of her two main characters, Lucie and Tristan. If you’re a fan of the spiteful enemies turned lovers trope, then this is definitely the book for you. I think she executed it perfectly. While there may be hints of it in Duke, I think Rogue takes it to a whole new devious, sometimes malicious, but sexy level, which might be why I preferred Duke? In that the female main character struggles with her passions towards the male main character more so than in Rogue? Again, my own subjective preference. A solid, full 4 stars nevertheless.
The epilogue teased the coming drama of book #3, Portrait of a Scotsman, which I have waiting for me on my shelf now, so if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take this opportunity to sign off and go read it.
Why don’t you?
Let me know if you’ve read either of Dunmore’s books! What were your favourite parts? Whose story did you enjoy most: Annabelle and Montgomery’s? Or Lucie and Tristan’s? Or do you have a recommendation for me to read next?
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[…] I’ve been musing with the past two reviews of Dunmore’s series, it was in this instalment I found myself more deeply relating to the […]