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I tend to be a little wary of things that are popular.  Not in the turning-up-my-nose at them way, because both practically and ideologically, I find that dumb.  Practically, if I like things that are popular, or if things I like are popular, I am almost guaranteed more media from them.  Furthermore, if enough of the fanbase is similar to me, there's always the chance it holds sway at some level.  Witness: fan-funded Veronica Mars movie versus Hulu-funded Veronica Mars fourth season.  (Yes, I am going to die mad about it, thank you for asking.)  Ideologically, the concept of gate-keeping is creepy and mean on every level and I have no interest in taking part.

My issue with popular things is a lot of times I don't like them.  Not because they're popular, they're just...not my thing.  Game of Thrones: too much death.  Breaking Bad and every series it similarly spawned: I give no shits about why people do bad things.  Most reality TV: I like my fake drama to acknowledge that it's fake.  Mysteries/thrillers at large: I don't care about plot, so I get bored.  Horror at large: I don't like feeling scared.  A looooot of popular comedies: the funny is lost on me.  If it's not sharp and kind of dry I am unlikely to laugh.  Basically, I am the problem here, I get this, okay?  I have very specific tastes, they can be hard to hit, and I'm picky about entertainment, becuase I don't have a ton of time for it.

With romance, often the super popular stuff is contemporary, which again, just isn't really my thing for a whole host of reasons I'm sure I'll get into at some point, and I read it and I can tell it's good, but in that abstract way, where like, I can tell you modern art means something.  I just have no earthly clue what.

Bringing Down the Duke is one of the rare historicals that has basically gone viral through the community, and so at the same time that I was interested, I was nervous, because I don't like finding out I'm the odd-girl out.  Thankfully, I'm not, because this book is perfection, I want to marry it, have its babies, and possibly nurse it in its old age.

Our heroine is Annabelle Archer, penniless surviving daughter of a vicar who's served as a maid/caretaker in her cousin's household since her father's death.  She is accepted into Oxford at the dawn of it beginning to integrate women (sorta....), and has been granted a stipend through the Women's Suffragist Society, which is the only way she can even begin to afford it.  As part of the stipend, however, she must work for the Society to some extent.

Meanwhile, our hero, Sebastian Devereux, Duke of Montgomery, has problems of his own.  Sebastian was made Duke as a teenager when his father drowned in a puddle while drunk.  Said father, before taking leave of this earth, gambled away the family's estate.  Sebastian, who was raised by his mother to be Very Serious About Being A Duke, takes getting the family seat back, well, Very Seriously.  To make matters worse, his single heir at this point, his younger brother Peregrin, whom he largely raised, is...not exactly what Sebastian planned on.  Which is to say: he's nineteen, and having the audacity to act like it.

To have a chance at getting his family seat back, Sebastian must see that Disraeli and the ruling anti-suffrage party wins.  Yeah.

One of the things I love most about this book (and I genuinely love everything about this book) is how good Dunmore is at showing us the ways Annabelle is different than the other women Sebastian has met.  It's exceedingly common in historical romance for the men to like the female protag because she's witty or clever or shows her emotions, but we're often told that to a detracting extent.  Annabelle is incredibly intelligent, which is the backdrop of her activities, the life she leads in the book, but she's also learned exactly who she's supposed to be in society.  And though she might rail against that to a certain extent, she also accepts it in certain ways.  Annabelle is never all fire nor all doormat, she threads nearly every needle she comes upon, and in some ways, that's nearly what happens between her and Sebastian.

Likewise, a male character trope in historicals is the Sekrit Mother Hen, and again, it's often shoved in the reader's face.  Sebastian has the driving need to take care of those whom he considers his, and we see it all though this book.  It...doesn't really get discussed.  At all.  And Dunmore is acutely aware that his need is a double-edged sword that comes with the need to control his surroundings.

Another point of brilliance in this book is the way that both Annabelle's past and the possibility of her serving as his mistress are filled with the recognition of consequences that would have existed at that time, however, there's never judgment in those talks.  Annabelle can be frustrated by who she is, and what it has meant for her, but she's not ashamed of it.  Sebastian couldn't seemingly care less except about the fact that she won't give him a name so he can wreak holy vengeance.

Because of the premise, there are fantastic friendships between Annabelle and her fellow suffragists, relationships which are painted as every bit as strong as the central romance, merely in different ways.

There's humor, politics, family drama, and absolutely pitch-perfect romance: there's really something for everyone here, folks.  Just read it.  The next one drops Sept. 1.        

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Militantly Romantic

February 2022

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