Slightly Dangerous by Mary Balogh

Narrated by Rosalyn Landor

In this final book in Mary Balogh’s Bedwyn series, the limelight at last turns to Wulfric, Duke of Bewcastle, the eldest of the six Bedwyn siblings who, along with the Marquess of Dain, Sebastian St. Vincent and a handful of others, is one of historical romance’s best beloved and most unforgettable heroes. He’s been a strong secondary presence in the other books in the series and has come across as a rather forbidding man with a reputation for being extremely proper, arrogant and cold, able to wound at twenty paces simply by virtue of a raised quizzing glass and a disdainful look. In Slightly Dangerous, we discover more about what has made him into the man he is and watch him unravel a bit as he finally meets his match.

Now that his brothers and sisters are all happily settled and starting families of their own, Wulfric is at a loss. He has fulfilled the vow he made when he assumed the title to make sure that they were all well taken care of – and at the age of thirty-five, realises he is lonely. His London home feels empty and he doesn’t much like the idea of returning to his principal seat at Lindsey Hall for the summer because that will be empty, too. He is also mourning the recent death of his mistress of ten years, not because he was deeply in love with her, but because they had been comfortable together and he had cared for her. It is this loneliness that prompts him to accept an invitation to a house-party being held by Lord and Lady Renable, although it doesn’t take him long after his arrival to regret his decision. He feels badly out of step with most of the other guests, having very little in common with any of them, and is not amused when he discovers that several of the younger ladies are setting their caps at him. The only person in attendance who is close to him in age is the widowed daughter of a schoolmaster, Mrs. Christine Derrick, who, he has already observed, is ridiculously impulsive and has no idea of proper behaviour.

The thing is, however, that while Mrs. Derrick seems to attract mishap and mayhem like a magnet, there is something about her that Wulf finds it impossible to ignore. Her natural vivacity and good humour shine from her like a beacon; her ability to find joy in the simplest things, her sense of the ridiculous and her sunny outlook inexplicably draw him to her, and for the first time in, well, ever, he finds himself in the grip of an intense physical attraction.

Christine Derrick married into the aristocracy when she wed the brother of a viscount, but after his death two years earlier, moved back into her childhood home – where she now lives with her mother and older sister. What had begun as an almost fairy-tale marriage soon turned into something else, and the last few years of it had not been happy. At the age of twenty-nine, she is content to live quietly, helping out at the village school and generally making herself useful; she has no desire to return to the world of the ton and only agrees to go to the house party because her friend Lady Renable pesters her into it. Her first encounter with the Duke of Bewcastle only confirms everything she’s heard about him – he’s haughty, cold and disdainful, and she wants to have as little to do with him as possible. Fate has other ideas, however, and she and the duke find themselves thrown together on several occasions… and the more time she spends with him, the more Christine finds herself coming to – if not like him, then to acknowledge that she finds him incredibly attractive.

There’s a reason – well, a lot of them, actually – why this book is such a favourite for so many. First of all, there’s the wonderful opposites attract romance. Wulf has been a strong secondary presence in the other books in the series and has come across as somewhat controlling, his brothers and sisters often resenting what they regarded as his interference in their lives. Yet there’s no question that he loves them dearly and wants the very best for them; he just doesn’t show his feelings easily or often. Christine challenges, provokes and infuriates him; she gets into scrapes (from which he, of course, rescues her), she doesn’t care much about propriety, she romps with the children and is the life and soul of the party. In fact, they’re so opposite that it’s sometimes hard to imagine them ever making things work as a couple. And yet they’re perfect for each other.

Then there’s the fact that the book isn’t overladen with drama and concentrates (apart from a single sub-plot concerning Christine’s marriage and what caused it to sour) on the romance and the central characters. Unlike many other books which use this particular trope (stuffed-shirt meets free-spirit), Ms. Balogh doesn’t magically transform Wulf into someone who wears his heart on his sleeve or stops caring about convention. In much the same way that Elizabeth Bennett comes to an understanding of Mr. Darcy and to see him for the true and decent man he is at heart – “In essentials, I believe, he is very much what he ever was” – Wulf brings Christine to see that while he is the Duke of Bewcastle, he is also Wulfric Bedwyn and that while he sometimes has to be the one at the expense of the other, there is a man beneath the ducal mantle. It’s clear that his association with Christine has already begun to change him in subtle ways, but ultimately their HEA comes as the result of a deeper mutual understanding and because Wulf realises there has been something missing in his life and he wants to hold on to it when he finds it. One of my favourite moments in the story comes near the end when Wulf has done something completely unexpected and Freyja hugs Christine and says: “If this is what you have done for him… I will love you all my life.”

And then there’s Wulf himself, a truly wonderful romantic hero. Schooled to be a duke since the age of twelve, and then taking on the title and responsibilities aged just seventeen, Wulfric often had to choose between being a brother and being a duke, and it wasn’t always easy. In the first book in the series, Slightly Married, we learned that Wulf had more or less forced Aidan to go into the army when what he’d really wanted was to take over as land-steward for the Bedwyn estates, and of the resentment it had caused between them. Here, we learn what it cost Wulf to make that decision, and how his life has been informed by duty and responsibility – to his family and all those who depend on him.

Wulfric is a beautifully drawn, complex character, and it’s easy to see why he’s an iconic hero and to understand why this is such a beloved book – and there are few other narrators (if any) who could have done it justice and brought him so completely to life as Rosalyn Landor has done here. She really has caught the essence of him in his bored, aristocratic drawl and the frequent coolness of his tone, but also conveys that beneath the frosty exterior is a man capable of kindness and passion. It’s a given that anything she narrates is going to be technically flawless – pacing, characterisation, differentiation, all are excellent, and she rises to the challenge of voicing all the Bedwyns and their spouses admirably in the scenes in which they all – or most of them – appear together. I particularly recall her interpretation of Freyja from Slightly Scandalous, her harsh tone and clipped delivery perfectly suited to the character and expertly recalled here, as are her characterisations of Eve, Rosthorn, Ranulf and all the others. There’s a fairly large secondary cast, ranging from young children to elderly roués via giggling misses and snooty matrons, and all of them are voiced appropriately according to gender, age and station. I honestly can’t find a single thing to criticise in Ms. Landor’s performance and can do nothing other than give Slightly Dangerous – in fact, the entire Slightly series – the very highest recommendation.

Caz