Sometimes a Rogue by Mary Jo Putney

Narrated by Steven Crossley

Last year, I read the sixth book in Ms Putney’s Lost Lords series, and was terribly disappointed in the weakness of the writing and storytelling – I gave it a C-. But I’ve listened to one or two of the earlier books in the series, so when Sometimes a Rogue (book five) came up for review, I thought I’d give it a go in the hope that Not Quite a Wife had been a freak dud.

Sadly, that wasn’t the case, because Sometimes a Rogue is just as weak in terms of both storytelling and writing. I had to ask myself more than once whether this had come from the same pen that produced The Rake, Shattered Rainbows and so many other historical romance “classics”, because it’s a mess of contrivance, cardboard characters and poor dialogue – and I struggled to finish it.

The story divides itself quite neatly into three different sections: the first in which our heroine is kidnapped (mistakenly) and our hero hares off to rescue her; the second, which sees the hero trying to cope with his newly ennobled status following the deaths of his father and brother, and to turn his dire financial situation around; and the third, which deals with various attempts to unsettle the hero and generally make his already difficult live even more so.

The book opens with twin sisters, Mariah, the heavily pregnant Duchess of Ashton, and her sister Sarah out for a drive on a lovely day. Passing over the question of why a very pregnant woman would want to be jogged and bounced along in a horse-drawn conveyance, the pair stop for a picnic and are suddenly targeted by some very nasty men who want to kidnap Mariah. They are members of an organisation called Free Eire, and want Mariah in order to hold some leverage over her influential husband. The ladies hide in a nearby church, and, as they’re twins, Sarah pretends to be Mariah and the kidnappers take her instead.

When Mariah is found and taken back to her home, it’s to find, by sheer coincidence, that one of her husband’s best friends – Rob Carmichael, who is most fortuitously a Bow Street Runner – has just turned up for a visit, so he hot-foots it after Sarah.

Effecting her rescue with the aid of an iron skillet (!), the pair flee and eventually make it to the coast, practically jumping into the nearest boat and heading off with their pursuers on their tails. At this point, Sarah decides it would be a good idea to effectively thumb her nose at her kidnappers and yell “nyaahh-nyaahh-nyah-nyah-nyaahh!” at them as she and Rob sail off into the sunset. Well not actually the sunset – because there’s a terrible storm brewing. Our intrepid couple are almost drowned but by a sheer fluke end up washing ashore on the south coast and practically on the doorstep of Rob’s ancestral home!

And not only that, but it turns out that as his profligate father and brother have recently died, Rob – who is very much the black sheep of the family, and whose brother so hated him that he sold him to a Press Gang several years earlier – is now the Earl of Kellington. He hates it – he doesn’t want to be a peer, and he doesn’t want to give up the life he’s made for himself, but with Sarah’s help, he comes to see that there are many people depending on him and that he really has no alternative but to assume his rightful place and do his best to repair his crumbling estate and fill the empty coffers.

Through all this, Sarah is at Rob’s side and they are forging a strong friendship – and even though they’re really, really attracted to each other, there can be nothing more than that between them because Rob’s heart belongs to a woman he loved and lost years before, and Sarah has abandonment issues.

Of course, this is a romance, so Sarah and Rob do marry – as friends of course – although given their strong attraction (we know it’s strong, because it says so in the text) it’s going to be a friends-with-benefits type of marriage. And to be fair, the one thing Rob and Sarah have going for them is their friendship; their mutual trust and understanding is an excellent basis for marriage, and that aspect of their relationship is probably the best thing about the book.

I really struggled to get through the twelve-and-a-half hours of this audiobook. The story is dull, Rob and Sarah are two likeable, capable but ultimately boring individuals who never rise above the two-dimensional, and there is almost no romantic chemistry between them at all. All the elements that normally lead to a bit of warmth in the early stages of a romance are here – sleeping rough when they’re on the run, leading to that whole “is-that-a-pistol-in-your-breeches-or-are-you-just-pleased-to-see-me?” thing in the morning; getting soaked and having to strip off; chaste kisses that don’t stay that way – left me completely cold here. The actual sex scenes are pretty lacklustre, too.

Much as it pains me to say so, the writing is cringe-making in places. For instance, upon Rob’s fortuitous arrival, Mariah’s husband greets him with: “Rob, Mariah’s sister, Sarah, has been kidnapped and someone needs to rescue her as soon as possible.” It’s like something out of a 1950s “B” movie. And sadly, that’s not the only occurrence. I had to laugh when, following the consummation of their marriage, Rob expresses the hope that he hasn’t hurt Sarah too much and she responds by telling him that “all the riding I’ve done might have made it easier.” (I shall refrain from making the obvious dirty joke!)

I’m afraid that the tedium of the story isn’t helped by Steven Crossley’s rather matter-of-fact performance. I know he has recorded a number of historical romances, one of which is Judith Ivory’s The Proposition – a performance Shannon described as “masterful” in her Month of Audio Favorites Review last year. This is the first time I’ve listened to him; and while he has an attractive voice and delivers the material confidently, at times, he comes across as somewhat disconnected from the story. His narration is well-paced, he successfully maintains a number of regional British accents, differentiates well between the characters and performs the females without making them sound shrill or squeaky. It’s a technically accomplished performance, but there are times when his narrative and his interpretation of both central characters is a little … self-conscious is the only way I can find of describing it. And that’s why I can only award a C grade to the narration; Mr Crossley’s skill merits higher, but the lack of emotional involvement means that it’s a disappointing performance overall.

Caz

Narration: C

Book Content: C-

Steam Factor: Glad I had my earbuds in

Violence: Minimal

Genre: Historical Romance

Publisher: Recorded Books

Sometimes a Rogue was provided to AudioGals by Recorded Books for review.