Dukes have also been a popular subgenre of romance novels. I have noticed that Dukes are the most prevalent members of the aristocracy to appear open-shirted on a book cover. I have found that as a rule, Duke romances usually span from the Medieval Era through the early Edwardian period. Also, roughly 83 percent of these romances take place in England. The other 17 percent take place in Scotland. But the characters usually end up in England at some point. I think Duke romances are so widespread because they’re one of the most accessible branches of nobility. They get to have land, wealth, titles, and power, but unlike kings or princes, they have more freedom to be roguish and irresponsible.
1. The Truth About Love and Dukes: Dear Lady Truelove by Laura Lee Guhrke
“Dear Lady Truelove . . . I have fallen in love, truly and completely in love, for the first time. The man whom I hold in such passionate regard, however, is not of my station. He is a painter, a brilliant artist. Needless to say, my family would not approve . . .
Henry, Duke of Torquil, wouldn’t be caught reading the wildly popular “Dear Lady Truelove” column, but when its advice causes his mother to embark on a scandalous elopement, an outraged Henry decides the author of this tripe must be stopped before she can ruin any more lives. Though Lady Truelove’s identity is a closely guarded secret, Henry has reason to suspect the publisher of the notorious column, beautiful and provoking Irene Deverill, is also its author.
For Irene, it’s easy to advise others to surrender to passion, but when she meets the Duke of Torquil, she soon learns that passion comes at a price. When one impulsive, spur-of-the-moment kiss pulls her into a scorching affair with Henry, it could destroy her beloved newspaper, her career, and her independence. But in the duke’s arms, surrender is so, so sweet . . .”
Reasonably typical Duke oriented book cover. A man and woman in period clothing, in a passionate embrace, and more often than not, the Duke is half naked. No exception here. The premise in this novel is a woman who publishes her own periodical and writes an advice column. I have to admit that it is pretty awesome to see a career woman in Victorian England (I checked the inside cover; it takes place in 1892). So, Irene writes a romantic advice column where she answers questions Dear Abbey style under the moniker “Lady Truelove.” The mother of Henry, the titular duke, apparently wrote into the column with a romantic quandary, decided to take the columnist’s advice, and ran away with a seemingly unsuitable man. Duke Henry decides to put a stop to Irene and her column to prevent her from “ruining any more lives.”
First of all, since Henry is the official duke, I assume that his mother is widowed, and therefore, it’s not as though she’s run out on a husband and young children. His mother is a grown-up woman who is well within her rights to remarry if she likes. For all we know, Henry’s mother was pushed into an arranged marriage to his father for money and a title. When Arranged Husband kicks the bucket, it’s generally accepted that the widow’s second marriage would be to Fun Husband. Now, Duke Henry thinks that Mommy leaving him is solely the responsibility of an advice column, and he must shut it down. Because his mother could not possibly have any autonomy in her own decision making. Honestly, I don’t blame his mother for taking off if her son is going to treat her like a child. Obviously, Henry and Irene are going to get together, but I foresee some serious Mommy Issues coming up in the future.
2. The Duke Buys A Bride by Sophie Jordan
A bride wasn’t in his plans . . .
The last thing Marcus, the Duke of Autenberry, expects to see after sleeping off a night’s drunken shenanigans is a woman being auctioned in the village square. Before he can think about the ramifications, he buys her, thinking he’s winning the girl her freedom. Instead, he discovers he’s bought a wife.
A duke wasn’t in hers . . .
Alyse Bell is almost rid of the shackles that bound her in a name-only marriage, but the day her friend promised to purchase her in a wife auction, he vanishes, leaving her to face a mob of unsavory bachelors intent on owning her body and soul. But the appearance of a wicked, wealthy stranger changes her path forever.
The road to ruin . . .
Marcus doesn’t know what to do with the impertinent chit who clearly isn’t duchess material! Insisting their marriage isn’t legitimate, they leave for his estate in Scotland, hoping to devise a plan to get rid of each other. However, on a journey fraught with misadventure, their attraction grows and Marcus realizes he’ll do anything to keep this fiery woman for his own.
Nothing sexier than human bondage! And the cover certainly thinks so. As noted, Duke romances always feature the characters in historical clothing, but this time, the lady in question is getting more exposure. Literally. Oh, don’t get me wrong, the titular Duke is still getting his shirt off, but it’s a little more subtle. The lady on the cover definitely has a lot of cleavage and leg going on. In these period romances, if it’s not the guy stripping, it’s the woman who has her dress coming off.
So, here we have a duke who purchases a wife at an auction out of pity and learns that he’s stuck with her instead of being able just to set her free. And apparently, there are no take-backs or refunds. From what I can understand, despite trying to get rid of each other, they succumb to mutual attraction (or joint Stockholm Syndrome) and decide to stay together. I don’t really see this as being a healthy long-term relationship given the extreme power dynamic. He’s a duke, and she’s the peasant girl that he purchased. You can bet that he’s going to hold that over her head the next time they have a fight.
3. Dukes Are Forever by Anna Harrington
ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE
Battlefields and barrooms hold much more interest for Edward Westover, Duke of Strathmore, than a little girl’s fondness for dolls and lace. When he takes possession of his enemy’s estate, everything that villain held dear-including his daughter-belongs to Edward. Hire a governess, arrange a dowry, give a few reassurances, and be off on his way–that’s Edward’s plan. But he’s in for the shock of his life. For his new ward is a beautiful, impetuous, and utterly irresistible woman . . .
. . . AND WAR
Kate Benton is stunned. Who is this arrogant, infuriating man who’s invited himself into her home and taken over her life? Her vow: to do everything in her power to convince him to leave her-and Brambly House-alone. Yet as chilly days melt into sultry nights, Kate sees glimpses of kindness underneath Edward’s cool façade . . . and a passionate nature that takes her breath away. There’s so much she doesn’t know about this man. But does she dare trust this devilish duke with her heart?
Not quite as scandalous a cover as we mostly see in these period romances. We only see the heroine here, but with enough exposed bosom and shoulders to give a hint of eroticism. We don’t even see the titular Duke on this cover, which maybe is an illusion to the supposed independent nature of the heroine? But seriously though, what is it with all these Dukes and human subjugation? We have yet another Duke who is suddenly in possession of another human being. It sounds like the Duke in question takes hold of his enemy’s property, and now he owns everything lock, stock, and barrel. Which apparently includes ownership of his enemy’s daughter? I don’t know how the hell that works. This is supposed to be the Regency Era, but I didn’t think debt collection also included ownership over immediate family members.
It does seem that we have a typical aristocratic romance novel plotline here; rich, powerful, handsome Duke with a broody, arrogant personality and a fiery, fiercely independent heroine who will have no part of this Duke’s alpha-male nonsense. Until one day she does. It usually ends with the woman submitting to the Duke, while the Duke agrees to make some effort to be less dickish than usual.
4. Blame It on the Duke by Lenora Bell
The future Duke of Barrington has just been gambled away by his father. To an heiress!
The delicious details thus far…
Nicolas, Lord Hatherly, never intended to marry—nor add to the “mad” Hatherly line—but now he must honor his father’s debt to a social-climbing merchant or lose the family estate.
A notoriously wild marquess, won by her father at a game of cards, is the very last thing Miss Alice Tombs wants. She’s spent the last three seasons repelling suitors in spectacular fashion so she’d be at liberty to explore the world. She’ll just have to drive this one away as well.
Until Nick proposes an utterly tempting arrangement: one summer together to prove the legitimacy of their union, then Alice is free to travel while Nick revels in the time he has left before the Hatherly Madness takes hold.
It will be easy to walk away after a few months of make-believe wedded bliss—won’t it? Alice and Nick are about to find out…one sultry night at a time.
This ought to be fun . . .
Again with Duke romances that involve human ownership. But this time it’s the Duke himself whose been sold off, so I guess that’s fair turnabout. However, I still don’t understand the ins and outs of Regency laws that allow you to wager and lose your own son in a card game.
Fairly standard Duke romance cover here. We’ve already got a half-naked Duke (Sorry, “future Duke.” I don’t care, still counts.), and it looks like the heroine is well on the way to having her dress pulled off based on how low the back of that dress is looking. Admittedly, it took me a little longer to recognize the theme of this novel. I had to go onto Amazon and check the reviews to verify my suspicions. Let’s see if you catch on a little quicker than I did:
1. A heroine named Alice
2. “The Hatherly Madness”
3. A game of cards
Get it?
Yes, that’s right, we do indeed have an Alice in Wonderland themed Duke romance here. And Alice’s love interest is the Mad Hatter. I know this is a completely different narrative, but it’s making me think back on the original Alice in Wonderland story, and it feels a little creepy. I swear to God, if I find out that someone says “Eat me” in a sex scene, I will in fact hurl.
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