Ruth Ann Nordin, $2.99, ISBN 978-1005305215
Historical Romance, 2021
In Ruth Ann Nordin’s A Perilous Marriage, 35-year old Eris Tumilson (spinster, wallflower, and yet still thinks she is in a position to hold out for love while leeching off her brother) is finally married to the Duke of Jowett.
She had no hesitation about marrying him, though there was some apprehension about the wedding night. As it turned out, unfortunately, her apprehension had been for nothing. She stayed up well past midnight waiting for him to come to her bedchamber, but eventually sleep overtook her. It wasn’t until the sun rose that the maid told her that Jonathan had died during the course of the night.
Well, so much for Jowett. More like Nowett. Oh well, he’s not her true love, so it’s unlikely he will be able to give her an orgasm, so it’s for the best that he’s dead.
Eris is aghast because now she will never find a man to love and beget babies for. Man dead, woman most affected—this feels like the embodiment of present day social media, ooh.
Well, she may get a second chance to put out to and be knocked up by a hot man, because here’s Charles Duff, her late husband’s BFF that is determined to prove that she is the murderer of his friend.
Without meaning to, Charles’ gaze went back to the newly widowed Duchess of Jowett. Not a single tear. Nothing in her expression indicated that she was upset about Jonathan’s death. That was telling, wasn’t it? If she cared about Jonathan at all, shouldn’t there be some indication on her face to convey that?
Oh, that is that proof he is looking for! What a ho!
Sure, he knows that it was an arranged marriage, but surely, if that woman hadn’t killed his BFF, she would throw herself onto the coffin and dry hump it while screaming to be buried with her husband despite knowing him for only a short while! It’s only logical, no?
Only ladies could express grief.
So why was the Duchess of Jowett not doing it? Why didn’t she show the slightest trace of sorrow?
Maybe she killed Jonathan.
Maybe he needs to touch grass more often.
So, this story is definitely off on a great start.
Anyway, the bulk of the story sees Eris going around town, making new friends and joining them on morning and evening walks, and you know, maybe I could empathize with Charles’s paranoia had the author presented it in a less imbecilic manner. Eris certainly acts like she barely recalls having a dead husband, after all.
However, Charles just seethes and sulks around like some tragic broken mayonnaise dispenser.
Charles hardly paid attention to the game of charades. He suspected he had Eris exactly where he wanted her. If he took too long, she might get wise to the real reason he wanted to be with her, and if that happened, he’d lose his chance to convict her of Jonathan’s death.
Is he a jury member? What is he talking about, convicting her of a crime?
The first thing he needed to do was inspect Jonathan’s bedchamber. While she might have been careful enough to avoid everyone else’s suspicions, there might be some clue hiding somewhere in that room. Or, if no evidence presented itself, he might get lucky enough to catch her in the act of trying to kill him. Of course, given how he would rather not die, his main hope was that there might be proof in Jonathan’s bedchamber. She was, after all, very clever. He might not succeed in outwitting her if she were to make a move to kill him.
Oh for heaven’s sake, leave this to the professionals. Go hire some private eye or something! Why is he doing everything on his own? Is he too stupid to count money and pay people to do jobs for him?
I don’t get it. Is the author aiming for comedy here? Because if this had been her intention, the whole thing tilts so hard that it’s like the Leaning Tower of Pisa leaning right into the ground—Eris doesn’t show any signs that she’s especially intelligent, so it only makes Charles look more brain-damaged when he claims that she is.
The worst part of all of this is that Charles believes that she is evil and a murderer, even sleeping with her to somehow prove her guilt—maybe he thinks his pee-pee is like the inverted version of Wonder Woman’s lasso of truth, I don’t know—all the way to the second last chapter.
I’m supposed to believe that he realizes that he’s in love with Eris after all, after a policeman takes one look at his “evidence” and basically goes all “LOL, look at this stupid toff acting like he’s so smart, GTFO bitch!”?
As I’ve said, I have no idea what the author is going for here. If she had wanted me to eye the hero in horrified bewilderment at how an adult man can be so stupid, this stupid, well, this is a job well done. As a romance, well, the romance is more like a clown show, and the whole thing is just… I don’t know how to describe what this is in words. I can only make pained noises.
This one is indeed a perilous thing, especially for people that are allergic to imbecilic main characters. Be warned, and act accordingly!
