The Duchess War (The Brothers Sinister #1) by Courtney Milan (2012)

One of the things that stands out to me about this series (and Courtney Milan's books) is how they will tackle relevant current issues, just in a Victorian setting. In this book, you have the realities of terrible working conditions, the poverty of the working poor, abuses of power, the powerlessness and marginalization of women, and the issue of homophobia. Tackling these issues could be done in a heavy-handed way, but Milan never forgets why we're reading: for the love story. While this book has our couple being influenced by these elements, their story isn't overshadowed by them and even though Minnie's secret is definitely a heavy and potentially explosive one, there are still moments that are adorable and humorous. It's is not a clean read, but like Julia Quinn's books, there's more to the story and their relationship than simple physical attraction. Minnie and Robert develop a strong relationship even as they face challenges and go to 'war' with each other over Unionizing flyers.  

Synopsis

Miss Minerva Lane is a quiet, bespectacled wallflower, and she wants to keep it that way. After all, the last time she was the center of attention, it ended badly--so badly that she changed her name to escape her scandalous past. Wallflowers may not be the prettiest of blooms, but at least they don't get trampled. So when a handsome duke comes to town, the last thing she wants is his attention. But that is precisely what she gets.

Because Robert Blaisdell, the Duke of Clermont, is not fooled. When Minnie figures out what he's up to, he realizes there is more to her than her spectacles and her quiet ways. And he's determined to lay her every secret bare before she can discover his. But this time, one shy miss may prove to be more than his match...

Review

Robert Blaisdell, the 9th Duke of Clermont, and Minnie Pursling meet in the library of Leicester's Guildhall. He is behind curtains 'smoking a cigarillo.' She is behind the sofa, avoiding an odious man who had to propose. He thinks her plain, severe and scowling. (He quickly discovers this is because Minnie needs her glasses or else she'll squint in the dark.) He overhears her suitor and friend describe her as a timid little rodent (Yes, ladies, I would be swept away too if I heard those words...) and perfect for him because she'll be "just like these books. When I wish to take her down and read her, she'll be there. When I don't, she'll wait patiently, precisely where she was left." (Truly a prize.) Minnie's reaction, after the jerk and his friend leave, is to punch a sofa several times in frustration. Robert is intrigued, because she doesn't seem mousy at all... except when other people are around. 

Minnie is perfectly happy to have nothing to do with the Duke. She doesn't get her wish: the captain of the town's militia believes she's the author of some 'seditious' leaflets calling for workers to unionize and she quickly figures out that he's responsible. She threatens his exposure, he's more attracted, and his charming personality wins her over, in spite of herself. 

It would have been a shorter novel, except that Minnie has a secret. While everyone knows her as Wilhelmina Pursling, her real name is Minerva Lane and Minerva's scandal isn't just scandalous, it's obliterating socially. The sin: dressing and acting like a boy for the first 12 years of her life, gadding about Europe with her father as a chess prodigy. Her father's vices brought about their downfall: he defrauded people and then -- after exposing her duplicity -- claimed that it was all her idea. Her father ended up dying in prison. Minnie was stoned by a crowd and almost killed. Minnie was rescued by her great aunt (and her aunt's roommate), and she became Wilhelmina Pursling, a girl who does everything in her power to not call any attention to herself.

Robert quickly sees past Minnie's disguise and falls in love with her. He keeps telling her to "look up," to stop hiding, even though he doesn't know her secret. Minnie loves him, too, but the idea of exposure torments her and keeps her from acting on her feelings. This is a story of their romance. It's also a story of the double-standards of respectability in Victorian England, the power and immunity of the peerage, the disparity of wealth between the peerage and the poor, and the toll that not being true to yourself takes on a person. The road to their happily-ever-after isn't smooth, but it is one that brought the tears and smiles (in the appropriate places, of course).  

Unlike many ducal stories, this one doesn't primarily happen in the gilded spaces of the ton, but rather places where people other than the peerage congregate. Minnie is on a hygiene commission which attempts to find solutions for the illnesses and diseases that come in the slums of the factory poor. Robert wants to abolish the peerage so that everyone is equal under the law. His cousin is a famous (and vilified) Darwinist and gives sold-out lectures attended (and protested) by ordinary, decent folk.  Milan could get bogged down in these facts, but instead she keeps the emotional heart of the story -- Minnie's struggle to deny her nature, her yearning for the life Robert is offering and being paralyzed with fear, Robert's desire to make a difference while dealing with the legacy of his father (who was a right monster). This book serves as a great introduction to the series and attempts to delve into some of the less shiny issues of Victorian England, even as our couple pants for each other. 

My rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars

Deeper Thoughts

One of the issues that Milan tackles is the untouchability of the peerage. George Stevens, the captain of the militia, views unionization as sedition and a gateway to chaos and anarchy. He uses his office to enforce his will, because he can make up whatever charges he likes, have people arrested and convicted. Minnie faces a real threat in Stevens' belief that she is the author of the handbills. But Robert does not. Because he is a duke, he would never be tried in a regular criminal court; his peers, the peerage, would try him, and everyone knows that he'd at most get a slap on the wrist. As a result, he is able to say and do things that an ordinary citizen wouldn't. He doesn't face the same repercussions that Minnie, or his half-brother, Oliver Marshall, would for the same crimes. 

Robert is continually struggling with the aftermath of abuses that his own father committed. Oliver's mother is a maid who was raped by the Robert's father, with Oliver being the result. Even though Oliver doesn't hold it against Robert, Robert struggles with guilt over what was done. He struggles with the legacy of his father's indecency, an indecency that had no issue with using and abusing people to satisfy his own desires. Robert's relationship with his mother is cold and detached; we discover that the former Duke's status allowed him to abuse both mother and son and created the wedge that separated them well after he was long dead and buried. In both of these incarnations, we see how the special status of the peerage allowed them to escape consequences simply because there was no one to hold them accountable.

Another issue, one that got a significantly greater amount of time, is the oppressiveness of respectability in the Victorian era and the cost that people who don't match its strictures have to pay. After the mob attacked and almost killed Minnie, Caro and her lover/roommate Eliza, adopted Minnie, moved to a different part of the country, gave her a new identity and taught her how to stifle herself to fit in. They did it for her protection -- since everyone had heard about the scandal surrounding Minerva Lane -- but in living with their secret, locking away their true selves for so long that their fake selves became the only thing they are, they became part of the society that wanted to oppress everything that made Minnie special. When Minnie struggles with the yoke they've given her, they reinforce the fear, caution and mediocrity that Minnie has lived, instead of helping her to have the courage to "look up" and grasp her dreams. Minnie's struggle with her fears and discontent seemed all the sadder because of what conforming to respectability has cost Caro and Eliza and it would continue to cost them.  

At one point, the potential cost of exposure, of losing her respectability, becomes so high that Minnie lets Robert believe that their relationship has all been a manipulation. Not only does it devastate Robert but it crushes Minnie's spirit even further. Luckily, the misunderstanding is short-lived and ultimately this leads to a solution for Minnie's secret, but when Minnie wept, I wept along with her. While in today's world, her secret probably wouldn't have been very scandalous, and it wouldn't have been nearly as traumatic or over-arching as it played out in their day. But there is still that demand for respectability that can burden people with loads they don't need to carry. We see it today in political rhetoric, in race and gender issues, in the judgments based on antiquated ideas of motherhood. in toxic masculinity.  Seeing things work out for them gives a little hope that our mountains are just molehills, too.