When I read the back cover of Regency romance Love is a Rogue by Lenora Bell I thought it said that heroine Beatrice Bentley's passion was entomology, when it actually said etymology. So for much of the first chapters I was waiting for Beatrice to run out to the gardens and dig up insects. (The book does include a dress decorated with real butterflies, so I wasn't entirely disappointed.)
In the end it didn't really make a difference. Whether Beatrice loves bugs or words, she is a typical "quirky" Regency heroine who has a -- gasp -- interest outside of going to balls. Also she suffers from a slight birth defect that makes her face droopy.
Need I say more? Along comes a man who is not appropriate to Beatrice's station but is hot and kind and likes that she likes big words and thinks that she is beautiful.
The man is Ford Wright, a carpenter. They bond over tearing out floorboards.
I guess this is kind of a spoiler (although it doesn't give away anything about the book's plot, except the predetermined happy ending), so be warned:
These are the last three paragraphs of the book:
She loved him. More than she'd ever thought it possible to love.
Their love was strong and solid and true.
Built to weather storms. Built to stand the test of time.
At first reading I rolled my eyes at this generic language. Is there any romance novel, Regency or otherwise, that could not end with these words?
On second reading I saw the metaphor: their love is like the houses that Ford builds, strong, solid, true, etc.
But that metaphor not earned. While some of the plot of the book involves carpentry, that's all it is -- plot. And where is Beatrice's love of the study of words and their origins in this ending? A few paragraphs earlier she calls Ford, "Malapert rapscallion. Scurrilous scoundrel." But that's conversation, not metaphor.
Years ago I read a modern romance whose title I can't remember. Sandcastles, maybe, or Castles in the Sand. I'm not finding it on Amazon. The central metaphor was that the heroine liked to build sandcastles and then watch the waves wash them away. She bumps into an old boyfriend (I think) and makes up a story about her life, figuring they'll have a fling and never see each other again. Of course the romance lasts, and the truth comes out. The hero forgives her when he watches the waves wash away a sandcastle, and he understands that the sandcastles are supposed to be fun and are not built to last, but the beach itself is there forever. The fling, the lies, were the sandcastle, but their love is the beach. The fact that I remember that metaphor years later -- that's one that is built to last.
Love is a Rogue has not earned its metaphor, leaving it a generic, fairly dull book.
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