Title: The Duke and the Enchantress
Author: Paullett Golden
Series: The Enchantresses #2
Wonderfully complex characters, minor narrative issues
My thanks to Paullett Golden, who asked me to read a free copy of her novel in exchange for an honest review.
I didn’t like Charlotte or Drake as they were portrayed in the first book. I thought she was a whiny woe-is-me brat and he was an obnoxious, selfish asshole. I was very curious about this second book, because I didn’t think they could become likable characters, much less a hero and heroine, without personality transplants. But I was wrong. I cared very much about Drake and his many facets, and I sympathized with Charlotte, who might not have been as complex as Drake, but she wasn’t one-note, either.
Charlotte
Charlotte’s viewpoint provided us with a different perspective on her situation and gave her more depth than just “pouty debutante.” Do I wish she’d been more assertive when she arrived at Lyonn Manor? Yes, but I have to remind myself to be realistic. She was this innocent, bright-eyed 18-year-old who got caught up in a whirlwind courtship with a charming duke during her first Season. He dazzled her, and when he proposed a week later, she was still blinking the spots out of her vision. Regardless, what kind of idiot says no to a duke?
They married three weeks later, barely knowing anything about each other. She was taken to a strange place and surrounded by strange people. She had no idea how to duchess and didn’t have the confidence to stand up for herself, understandably. So of course she floundered at first. But she gave herself pep talks and made some changes here and there—passive-aggressively, but ya gotta start somewhere—and soon she was making bigger changes and taking charge of things she felt she could handle. She met obstacles, overcame them, and turned out to be a natural at duchessing. A standard arc, but she wore it well.
My absolute favorite Charlotte moment was early on when she’s hiding from Drake behind the screen. To distract herself during a tense, awkward silence, she tried to fit her big toe in one of the knot holes in the floorboard. Just one of those absent, idle things you do. As someone who hates to have unoccupied hands, I can relate to those kinds of gestures, and it did so much to humanize her. Sometimes it’s the little things.
She did have a der moment, though, when she pretended to be Phillip the tiger. Was following Drake to his mistress’s house to catch him in the act going a tad overboard? Yeah, but I rolled with it. I could buy that she wanted proof of his affair so she could accuse him with conviction. I could also buy that she dressed up as and passed for a young boy—that’s a common trope in historical romance—but what I wasn’t having was that she had no plan beyond getting to Maggie’s house. How did she not think Drake and Maggie would go upstairs or into a private room and be inaccessible to snoopy little servant boys? Did she think he’d walk through the front door and bump uglies with Maggie right there in the foyer, allowing her to just throw open the door and cry, “Gotcha!”? C’mon, sweetheart, you may not be your sister, but you’re not that stupid. I’m surprised none of her accomplices pointed it out to her.
Drake
Drake was deliciously complex. There were so many surprising facets to his character.
So his late father, the previous Duke of Annick, played the violin, which was, apparently, considered a feminine instrument, not sure why. That was scandalous enough, but there was also… It wasn’t completely clear. I’m not sure if he really was gay, or if it was just rumored he was gay because of his passion for playing a feminine instrument. Regardless, rumor was he was a “backgammon player” and favored “the old windward passage.” (*snorts* I’m still not over that euphemism.) And when Drake proved to be an errant child, his father made him learn the violin, thinking it would help with discipline, focus, etc. Not wanting the same stigma to be attached to her son—or not wanting to encourage him to be gay—probably both—Drake’s mother did her best to forbid him from playing or letting anyone know he even could play.
So he was raised on a mixed message; he showed musical talent and enjoyed playing but was told it was sinful and scandalous and that he couldn’t. This fucked with his sense of identity, and though he was never gay or even thought he might be, he felt he had to prove to the world—especially his mother—how masculine he was. How best to do that? Have lots of sex with women. Or at least make people think he had lots of sex with women. Hence, he developed and carefully maintained a reputation as a rake, and acted like a pompous ass so people would think he didn’t care what they thought, when really society’s opinion dominated his life. Beautiful irony.
It was also fascinating because this is usually the woman’s tale in historical romances. So often we see a heroine raised to never, ever do anything the least bit masculine for fear it would cause scandal and drive prospective husbands away, when in truth she doesn’t give a fig about propriety and prefers to dress in pants, ride horse like a man, and learn to fight with sword, dagger, and bow and arrow rather than to play piano or sing or sew. She’s forced to suppress some improper or undesirable aspect of herself and as a result feels like she’s playing a part. It was so cool to see that trope more or less turned around.
So while society thought Drake slept with anything in a skirt, he’d actually had only one lover in his life, the widow Margaret “Maggie” Collins, Dowager Marchioness of Waller. And, to my utter surprise, this was where it got dark.
When Drake was fifteen, Maggie invited him over to her place to play some of his music for her. He found out, however, that that was only a pretense. Maggie, and several other women her age (somewhere in their late 30s at the time, I think), would throw orgies and invite teenage boys. They’d encourage the boys to smoke, drink, snort snuff, and have sex with them. Though I don’t think any of the boys were unwilling, those women were, in modern terms, sexual predators.
I did not see that coming. I was reading the “party” scene—aka the orgy—and my eyes just got bigger and bigger. I give Golden so much respect for going there… She didn’t really embrace the darkness, just glossed over it with euphemisms and some shock and disapproval from Charlotte, but still. Respect.
Anyway, so what was Drake’s arc? Well, while Charlotte had low self-confidence, he had low self-worth. He didn’t think his father loved him, his mother seemed to disapprove of every breath he took, and Maggie only wanted to use him for personal gain—being able to say she had the favor of the Duke of Annick was the only thing that kept society from calling her out as the trash she was. His mother ran the household and pretty much the whole dukedom because she didn’t think he was competent, and he couldn’t express his greatest passion or show off his talent for music because it was considered vulgar and scandalous. Everything he did was met with disapproval or disappointment.
Then he began to believe Charlotte cared for him and allowed her to see the part of him no one else knew about—and she fell in love with him because he’s a brilliant musician and therefore deep and sensitive and vulnerable. *dreamy sigh* That’s poetry, there. His arc was coming to believe he was worthy of unconditional love and that his music was nothing to be ashamed of.
Narrative
My biggest issue with the narrative was that there’s no beginning to the story. The inciting incident was missing. *waves hand dismissively* Yes, there was a previous book that introduced Drake and Charlotte’s relationship, and yes, said book included glimpses of their courtship in London. I think, anyway; I didn’t go back and look because I shouldn’t have to. I don’t remember much of Drake and Charlotte as a couple in that book, because I was focused on Liz and Sebastian. I only remember Charlotte whining about being miserable and Drake having a mistress and no filter for his words.
This book, their book, skips the courtship in London and starts with them already married, which might not have been a problem except they kept referring to their time in London, and it sounded as if that time in their relationship was important. I felt as if I was watching the soaps with Grandma. I never watch soaps except once in a blue moon with her, so when I do, I have no idea what’s going on and have to give my context-clue-finding skills a workout.
Did it ruin the book? Absolutely not. But one of the first things you learn about writing is show, don’t tell. We had to rely on inner monologue and exposition to convey to us that Drake and Charlotte were hot for each other during their courtship and it wasn’t until after they were married that things got emotionally wonky. It did the job, but it probably would have been far more meaningful and engaging to have witnessed that information in actual scenes. Them meeting, him dazzling her, awakening passion in one another, being giddy and optimistic. Maybe a scene where his mother told him to pick a wife or she’d pick one for him, so we could feel his motivation. We could have had a promising start by which to measure how far they sank emotionally, how far they drifted from what they expected their marriage to be like. Instead of having to take their doubts for granted, we could have seen the seeds of those doubts planted and watched them grow.
A consequence of this was a saggy middle. Not the “this information is completely irrelevant and deserves the business end of a red pen” kind of saggy middle, rather the “trying to subtly draw out character revelations to fill pages” kind—an overabundance of inner monologue and narrative summary which got a bit redundant. I wonder if maybe there wasn’t enough conflict. The biggest antagonists were their misconceptions of one another, followed by the lesser evils of hypercritical mother and society’s opinion. Maggie was only an antagonist for like, five minutes. Charlotte and Drake sorted out their misconceptions before 60%, Maggie ceased to be a thing, the mother kind of dropped away for a while, and it was a matter of them trying to wrap their heads around actually having the relationship/marriage they dreamed of. Which was heartwarming, but not all that exciting.
It probably didn’t help that Golden set up a timeline for Charlotte and Drake’s relationship in the last book. She had to pace events and revelations so they would correspond with what happened in book one; that also could have contributed to the sense of being drawn out. Sounds like a pain in the ass, and I don’t envy her the challenge.
Overall
I think that covers most of my notes. Overall, I’m very impressed that I sympathized with and came to care about the characters as much as I did. The narrative suffered from some shortcomings but wasn’t crippled by them.
I look forward to the next Enchantress book, which will be the story of Sebastian’s long-lost sister Lilith, who has to deal with being illegitimate and abandoned, if I recall correctly. The excerpt seemed to set up the conflict well and whet my appetite. Not sure who the Baron is or how he’ll fit in—I searched this book for “baron” in case he was introduced and I missed it, but the only mention of one was the man Aunt Hazel married. I dare predict that Lilith, a midwife, will be involved in the birth of Sebastian and Liz’s first child, which we learned was on the way in the epilogue. Would be kinda strange if she weren’t involved, like a missed opportunity.
Also, I think Winston and Mary may become protagonists at some point in the series. I doubt they’ll be a couple, he’s over twice her age—then again, Drake was 15 years older than Charlotte, so I suppose the precedent has been set. Either way, they were given enough screen time here to make me believe they could be important later. Mary for sure.
