Here’s the premise: Anne Jewell’s life has been difficult, ever since she was raped and left with an illegitimate child. David is nine now, and they’ve found a safe haven at a girls’ school in Bath, but when a relation invites them to join the Duke of Bewcastle’s family in Wales for a month, she knows there will be other children for David to play with and she can’t deny him the holiday. The Duke of Bewcastle is the head of the Bedwyn clan, from the Slightly series, and they’re all there, all in happily married couples, with a nursery full of children. For anyone who’s into extended epilogues, this is a humongous example. I found it a bit much, frankly, but there you go.

Just about the only unattached person there is Sydnam Butler, the wounded war hero mentioned above, now living almost as a recluse as steward on the duke’s remote Welsh estate. The first time Anne sees him, she first sees his undamaged left side, described as being extraordinarily beautiful, but when he turns and she sees the ravaged right side of his face, she runs away in terror. An inauspicious beginning, but they gradually become friends of a sort, opening up a little to each other as they each see the other as a kindred spirit, both of them damaged by their pasts.

This being a Balogh book, there has to be sex in it, which actually made some sense in this case (it isn’t always so obvious in some of her books, where the sex is there more because she always puts sex in her books than for any character-driven reason). But here there is a good reason for it. They do actually have the hots for each other, but there’s also the issue of his missing bits and bobs, and her previous bad experience, so it’s very experimental, for both of them. And it doesn’t go well. And then there are consequences…

A major grumble: when Sydnam realises he needs to get to Anne in a hurry, but he has business matters to clear up in Wales and then he has to go to London first, why on earth doesn’t he write to let her know he’s coming. A few short lines would be all that would be necessary: ‘On my way, be with you Tuesday week’. But no, he leaves her guessing and worrying. Not sure what the point of that was. And why did he go to London for a special licence anyway? A bishop’s licence, which he could have got in Bath in half the time, would have done the job. But Balogh seems to leap for the special licence as a first resort. Maybe she doesn’t know about a bishop’s licence?

Anyway, the two marry in as much haste as Sydnam’s jauntering around can manage, and the rest of the book is about their adjustment to married life, David’s adjustment to having a father figure in his life and visiting their families. None of this is particularly surprising, although of course with Balogh’s talent it’s never uninteresting, and she reaches all the emotional high and low notes beautifully.

I’m still reading these books avidly, but I am a little jaded by so many excessively beautiful characters, the sex and the horrible back stories. I probably should have read them more slowly, but there we are. In some ways this is a five star read, but my dislike of the wounded hero trope keeps it to four stars for me.

Here’s the premise: Frances Allard is a teacher at a girls’ school in Bath, returning there after a Christmas visit to her great-aunts. Her antiquated coach is overtaken in snow by a much faster vehicle, and they end up stuck in a snowdrift. The owner of the other vehicle is obliged to take Frances to the nearest inn, which turns out to be temporarily deserted, the innkeeper and his wife being away visiting. What a strange Regency world this is where everyone travels about in mid-winter. Frances takes charge of the kitchen, since it turns out she’s a wonderful cook, while her rescuer, when he’s not haranguing her, sets himself to chopping wood.

He tells her he’s Lucius Marshall, but he’s really Viscount Sinclair, heir to the Earl of Edgecombe, very grumpy because his grandfather the earl is dying and wants him to marry before he shuffles off the mortal coil. Lucius has enjoyed being free, and he’s not much enamoured of his chosen bride, Portia Hunt, who’s perfect in every way, but cold. There’s no affection between them, just an acceptance that the marriage will happen, eventually. And eventually is coming up very fast. Portia is a little like the proposed bride in Heyer’s The Corinthian, eligible but not someone the hero feels anything for. It would be merely a duty marriage.

In the midst of this situation, Lucius finds himself stuck in the deserted inn with a woman who’s very far from perfect (a teacher! And a spirited combatant, to boot) but there’s a distinct spark between them. After a day of essentially playing childish games in the snow, they end up in bed together, where the virginal heroine is instantly orgasmic, because of course she is. All Balogh’s heroines are, for some reason.

They then continue their journey to Bath, hand in hand in the shared carriage, very happy with themselves, until he offers her a position as his latest mistress and she turns him down in order to stay as a humble teacher. They part on bad terms, half angry and half miserable, expecting never to meet again. Well, needless to say, fate throws them together again, where Lucius discovers that Frances has the sort of singing voice that would make her famous. She’s happy to hide her light under a bushel but he’s determined to give her the career as a star that her talent deserves. Even when she tells him very clearly that she doesn’t want that, he manipulates and organises and makes it happen anyway.

Now, I like a determined hero as much as anyone, and if his energies were solely focused on making her happy and winning her heart, I couldn’t fault him. But when he decides he knows what she wants better than she knows herself, that goes too far. She calls him a bully and it’s hard to disagree. One of the principal requirements in a hero, to my mind, is respecting the heroine enough to allow her to make her own decisions, and Lucius fails completely.

As it happens, it isn’t quite the disaster it might have been, and the legal obstacles that had entangled her were easily resolved. Kudos to the author for getting the legalities exactly right.

I considered knocking off a star for the bullying hero, but in the end the writing is so good and I tore through this so fast that I can’t in all conscience give it fewer than five stars.