Mirror Lake Press, $3.99, ISBN 978-1-941145-75-3
Historical Romance, 2017
Hannah Montana, sorry, Hannah Palmer is having her birthday party today, and she is 18 turning 80. Then again, maybe I can’t blame her when she has an older sister that constantly prattles about Hannah surely meeting a true love soon, very soon, like maybe after passing that corner soon, okay, maybe after crossing the street soon, or wait for it, she is confident that Hannah’s destined beau would show up once she reaches the other side of the street, and so on.
The sister, Alicia, is married to the Earl of Tarrington, which means she has the means and a big house to throw a masquerade party. I’m sure everyone reading this knows where the story is heading. Hannah dons a mask, immediately turns into Flirty McShagmebutnotreally, and oh my, the man she happens to end up kissing is Bennett, the Duke of Suttenberg, whom she despises like, forever and ever and ever and ever, and she will never never—ever—put out to him.
Hannah fled the library, still grappling with the horrible truth. Her charming Bennett was the arrogant Duke of Suttenberg. How could she have liked him? Trusted him? Usually, she was a better judge of character. Remaining silent and observing those around her normally revealed much about them. But no, she’d played the flirt, and now she must face the consequences.
Fortunately, he saves her from a pushy boor that comes on too hard to her, conveniently popping out like magic from who knows where, and she starts to think that, well, maybe he isn’t that bad. What a shame. If it had been a chandelier falling on her and Bennett pushed her out of the way in time, she may change her mind and put out to him at that very spot.
Eventually, she reveals that she has barely known Bennett before she formed the opinion that he is some kind of hateful boor, so I can only sigh. This is why a courtship between an 18-year old that acts like she’s 15 and a man nearly twice her age isn’t very interesting to read. She is nowhere near his equal in terms of emotional maturity, and that is a “Daddy, save me from having to think too much for myself!” vibe to the relationship that I find tad creepy.
The story is well-written, and I’d still argue that Donna Hatch is one of the more enjoyable new-to-me historical romance authors I’ve come across recently because there is a cadence and tempo to her narrative style that I find appealing. The plot of this one is tired beyond belief, though, and I think I am way too jaded to appreciate the bratty heroine as she finds dumb excuses to turn down a hot, loaded, well-spoken and pretty gentlemanly duke. Wretches like her deserve to end up with a butcher or rat-catcher; let’s see how they enjoy life then.
Anyway, Unmasking the Duke is a generic title for a generic romance with generic characters. It’s better than the usual two-oogie read, but still, I’m meh about it.
