Wednesday, June 19, 2013

More Than A Mistress: Chapter Three

 As Jane watches the Duke at his desk, she notes that all his servants are afraid of him, and that his
“ habitual expression appeared to be both harsh and cynical.  And arrogant.”

"Three!  The THREE expressions of his face are harshness, cynicism, arrogance, and hotness.  FOUR ..."

Jane has decided to be “a quiet, meek nurse who was lucky to have this position.”  In the very next sentence, however, she reflects that “it was difficult not to be herself – as she had discovered at great cost almost a month ago.”  Not only does Balogh set her heroine up for failure at being meek and quiet, but we also get another clue about Jane’s [if that IS her real name] mysterious past.  Namely, that her past was almost a month ago.

It turns out Jane has already failed (told ya) in her mission to be meek and quiet – remember, the last chapter ended when she told the Duke to call her Miss Ingleby, and then prompted him to follow doctor’s orders and get to bed.  Seven paragraphs into this new chapter, the Duke responds to this request.  That was confusing because I'd totally forgotten about the earlier suggestion, and after all this description and reflection suddenly the Duke says, "I beg your pardon?" and I thought he might be hallucinating.  But no, he's just turning down her suggestion of going to bed, because of course “men really [are] foolish.  She had known several just like him – men whose determination to be men had made them reckless of their health and safety."  You know what's even better than misogyny?  Man-hating.  Men are all dumb, foolish, hapless creatures who need women to take care of them or else they'd just bumble around bumping into the walls all day.  Yay women!  (The equivalent term to misogyny is misandry, but nobody knows that word because it doesn't get the media attention that misogyny does.)

Tresham explains to Jane that “it is a long time since anyone spoke to me as if I were a naughty schoolboy in need of a scolding.”  This underscores the "men are dumb" theme and also, perhaps serves as some hot kinky foreshadowing.  Jane is fed up by his lecture.  However, she notes that his raw masculinity (dumbness, I guess?) must make him “impossibly attractive to any woman who liked to be bullied, dominated, or verbally abused.  And there [are] many such women.”  Oh, are there?  Really?  Because I don't know any.  But if you say they must exist - in droves - then who am I to argue?  Anyway, Jane notes that she has had quite enough of such men – but we all know she’s going to be jumping Jocelyn’s bones in a few chapters, so maybe she actually secretly likes men who bully, dominate, or verbally abuse her.  Yay, misandry to misogyny in only a few paragraphs!

Jocelyn (yes, he is totally referred to by this term on page 31) is starting to suspect what I already suspected about Jane: “She was no serving girl.  Nor brought up to spend her days in a milliner’s workshop.  She spoke with the cultured accents of a lady.  A lady who had fallen upon hard times?”  He also reflects that he has no idea why he has hired her and also no clue why he has not subsequently fired her.  This is how sexual attraction works in romance novels: it makes you do things that you have absolutely no explanation for, things that make no logical sense, and you are completely baffled as to why.  That’s not sexual attraction, that’s a personality disorder.  Then he rationalizes that he does need mental stimulation during his convalescence, and that she might be smart and interesting enough to provide good company.  He shows how much he values this companionship by continuing to speak to her irritably and sarcastically, and reflecting that he wishes she would keep her mouth shut. Maybe he's an introvert, and prefers silent companionship.  

Tresham asks a few questions about Jane’s upbringing.  She lies to him (brought up in an orphanage) but the narrative tells the reader that she had a loving mother and father who brought her up with every one of life’s comforts until she was sixteen.  Shortly after, they both died, though not before Jane got a chance to take care of her ailing father for a while, which is why she’s so comfortable being the Duke’s nurse now. 

After Jane fetches a stool to elevate his foot, and changes the bandages, a new character bursts onto the scene!  She is the third female character in the book so far, she talks WAY more than Jane, and it turns out she is the Duke’s sister.  She calls him “Tresham” which I guess Val will have to explain – doesn’t ‘Tresham’ refer to the place he is a Duke of?  Why would his sister call him that instead of Jocelyn? – and after alluding vaguely to some “business in Cornwall” that Jane is super interested in for some reason, she leaves. 


End Chapter!

4 comments:

  1. The aristocracy are referred to by their titles rather than surnames or, even among family, given names. So while he was christened Jocelyn (and probably a whole shwack of other names) Dudley, he has never been referred to as such. Now, since I don't have a copy of the book as the only library copy is with you, I consulted with Ms. Balogh personally for the rest of this critical information (yes, I actually did - Facebook is wonderful).

    At birth, dear Jocelyn was bestowed with the courtesy title Earl of Everleigh, a lesser title of his father (Duke of Tresham at the time). His siblings would have spent their childhood referring to him as Everleigh. Then, when their dad kicked the bucket, he was immediately thereafter known as Tresham.

    I am sure this will not spoil the plot for you, but by the end of the series there is a new Everleigh, Tresham's son Nicholas. You will never ever guess who Everleigh's mother is. NEVER.

    Tresham's wife (I wonder who that will be!) upon marriage will be Her Grace the Duchess of Tresham. Though her surname will be Dudley, she will sign her name in correspondence as Firstname Tresham, not Firstname Dudley.

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    1. Because you NEED this riveting detail.

      His sister started her life as Lady Angeline Dudley. Parents and siblings and close friends would call her Angeline or some other diminutive version of her first name. Acquaintances would call her Lady Angeline, not Lady Dudley* (who doesn't exist, because her mother would be Lady Tresham) or Miss Dudley (who would be a commoner). When she got married, she became the Countess of Heyward, or Lady Heyward, and would sign her name Angeline Heyward.

      * I did need to Google, but there would eventually be a real life Lady Dudley, but this guy hadn't been born yet and he was the first Earl of Dudley:
      http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Ward,_1st_Earl_of_Dudley
      Georgina, Countess of Dudley, was not unattractive, but didn't know how to smile:
      http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Georgina,_Countess_of_Dudley.jpg

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  2. I was too caught up in the riveting plot of this novel to worry about names and titles. I can honestly say that I am enjoying this romance more than any of the others I have tried over the years.

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    1. Ultimately it's not important to the plot. But if an author gets it wrong (and many DO) I find it far to distracting to be able to finish the book. Because it's easy information to find, readily accessible online, so if they get it wrong they get dismissed.

      Apparently there are some who are so well versed in the Regency period that they could tell you the actual weather conditions on any given day, so if you get that wrong you are sunk.

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