The Duke and I

Daphne's Story

Today, we are starting things a little differently. Last week, I called this book the elephant in the Bridgerton series, and I think I need to explain.

It’s, ahhh, complicated. And a bit problematic. Ok, probably more than a bit.

It’s problematic for a few reasons, most of them boiling down to the fact that we have characters acting without regard for the agency of others. These actions vary from the deeply annoying – anything that Anthony does at any given time – to the deeply troubling (more on that later). Less problematic, per se, but not less frustrating is the fact that several characters act in completely unbelievable ways at more than one crucial juncture. Just utterly bizarre, psychologically improbable behaviour. I am prepared to suspend a lot of disbelief in service of a good story, but the story in The Duke and I is never allowed to be as good as it could be because of the amount of disbelief that is required to be suspended. It’s bonkers, friends, and not in a good way. If this had been the first Bridgerton book I had read, this newsletter would not exist.

Lucky for you, I read Colin’s story first.

However, I fear that I must subject you to this story now, so we can get it out of the way. Honestly, if you read this and then promptly forget the entire plot, that’s probably for the best. All you need to retain from it is that Daphne marries a duke. The title basically gives that away anyway.

But since I forced myself to read the whole thing, you will be required to read this entire newsletter. Sorry, I make the rules. Don’t let me down. You can do this!

We start with a Prologue and it’s a terrible one. Simon Arthur Henry Fitzranulph Basset, Earl of Clyvedon and future duke of Hastings has been born to great fanfare. The Hastings dukedom is the oldest and richest in the land, and I’m guessing Julia Quinn was thinking of the Devonshires when she wrote this book. Especially that one terrible duke who was married to Georgiana, the most famous duchess of Devonshire. I refuse to look up his name. Like that guy, this duke of Hastings is obsessed with begetting an heir; too bad his wife keeps having miscarriages and stillbirths. Seeing as how her entire raison d’etre is to produce said heir, she will have to damn well keep at it until she dies. Literally. Yes, poor Simon is only a few hours old and has already lost one parent. The better one, as it becomes clear very quickly.

The duke is excited to have a son. He is already planning on how to mold his precious heir into his own image, a terrifying prospect but one which, for better or worse, will not come to pass. You see, Simon is a little slow to develop; at age 2, he still can’t speak and, as the years go by, continues to struggle with his speech. The duke is at first merely annoyed, but by the time Simon is 4, he is irate. No, really. The duke loses HIS LITERAL GODDAMNED MIND because his baby son stammers. He calls Simon an “idiot” and f*cks off to London permanently, abandoning his son in the care of his nursery maid at Clyvedon (their ducal seat in the country). We are half a chapter into this book, and I am already steaming mad. Oh, it’s going to get worse.

Simon continues to live with his kind nursery maid at Clyvedon and, with her help, starts to improve his speech. He is a very bright child, in fact. When he is 11, he goes to London to visit his father and show him the progress he has made, hoping to gain the duke’s approval. But, get this: when he arrives at his father’s house, the butler is surprised because everyone thought Simon was dead. BECAUSE THE DUKE HAS BEEN PRETENDING THAT SIMON WAS DEAD THIS WHOLE ENTIRE TIME, WHICH LET ME REMIND YOU IS SEVEN F*CKING YEARS.

Bonkerballs. Just absolute bonkerballs.

Look, maybe I am overestimating the ability of 18th century parents to love their children, but the behaviour of the duke in this situation strains my credulity to the max. Even if we assume that the duke would not have been prepared to acknowledge a fully disabled child – there are, after all, plenty of examples in real life aristocratic and royal circles – Baby Simon was not an “idiot” under the definitions of the day; he could talk, albeit with a stammer, and could clearly understand what was being said to him. The duke, who has been waiting for an heir for years, literally observes his son for 5 minutes before deciding to permanently abandon him and pretend that he’s dead. It’s just … unbelievable, from a character psychology standpoint.

Anyway, the meeting in London goes poorly because the duke is still a heartless asshole and pre-teen Simon is still cowed enough by his dad not to be able to overcome his stammer in that moment. Duke is, like, “still an idiot, get out of my sight” so Simon does. This is all f*cking awful and I hate it.

Look, it’s entirely clear to me that Julia Quinn loves a protagonist with daddy issues – there are more than one in the Bridgerton saga – and who am I to rain on anybody’s parade, but this particular iteration just plain sucks. You can write a cold, over-bearing, disciplinarian, impossible-to-satisfy parent without resorting to, like, Dickensian melodramatics. There could have been many other ways to arrive at the same result – i.e. adult Simon feels like he never lived up to his father’s expectations and hates him so much for it that his entire personality is, basically, “I hate my dad”. But this is the version we are stuck with and, friends, it’s a lot more downhill than up from hereon out.  

Fast forward to 1813

Lady Whistledown, the Gossip Girl of Regency-era London, has recently launched her gossip sheet and everyone is agog over its contents and the (undisclosed) identity of the writer herself. Let me pause here and give Lady Whistledown her due; she’s got the ins and outs of content creation figured out. Not only is she a mysterious figure —how very Deuxmoi of her — but she sent her first few issues to all of the ton for free; then, after they were all hooked on the hot goss, she started charging for it and, of course, everyone paid up. Brilliant strategy. Don’t worry, I am not taking notes or anything.

Violet Bridgerton, mother of the Bridgerton clan, and Daphne, her eldest daughter, are bickering over the paper. Violet hates when Lady Whistledown writes about her family, but also admits that it’s good advertising for them; she has a lot of children to marry off and, as this book will remind us again and again and again, these marriages are Violet’s main (and only?) preoccupation. It is a particular preoccupation just now because Daphne has been “out” for 2 seasons already and just keeps turning down proposals. Daphne’s reasoning is that nobody she likes even a little bit has proposed to her. She’s pretty and very well-liked, but basically … she’s been friendzoned by most of the eligible bachelors. This is a relatable predicament, tbh. Anyway, back to Lady Whistledown; Daphne doesn’t care who she is – and don’t worry, we WILL find out, but not in this book – Daphne just likes the hot goss. Who doesn’t?! Even Violet has to admit she’s not above it. One of the items of hot goss this week? The duke of Hastings is back in town. The new duke, that is. Yes, the old goat kicked the bucket and now Simon is duke. And he’s back in England after a long sojourn abroad. Mothers with daughters of marriageable age are suddenly on high alert all over London. Oh, by the way, Simon is actually an old friend of Anthony’s …

… which is why they’re hanging out together at White’s at that very moment. Anthony Bridgerton and Simon have been friends since they met at Eton ( because they’re both posh) and then went to Oxford, where Simon received a First in mathematics (which makes him posh AND very smart) and Anthony did … something or the other. It also sounds like they had some extracurricular adventures along the way (not with each other, to be clear) as young, rich toffs are wont to do, which means that … you guessed it, Simon is widely credited as a rake. If you’re wondering how you are going to tell these two blokes apart, what with both of them being tall, dark, good-looking, rakish aristocrats, let me inform you that Simon has blue eyes (instead of brown) and is a little bit taller than Anthony. And he’s an only child, of course.

Anthony complains to Simon about what a bother it is to be a rich and eligible bachelor, what with all the calculating mamas and their insipid daughters looking to net a good match. Let me say this now: it’s a good thing we did Anthony’s story first (out of order) and hopefully built up some goodwill for the character because he’s insufferable in this book. In fact, none of the Bridgertons come off particularly well in this story, except the ones who never speak any lines (Francesca, Eloise). You’ve been warned.

Anyway, Anthony feels very persecuted because of HIS OWN MASSIVE PRIVILEGES, poor baby, whenever he escorts his sister Daphne to any social events. Which he must, because this is her third season and she still needs a husband. As head of the family, Anthony has magnanimously allowed her to decline all previous proposals because they weren’t acceptable to her. He is willing to concede that she ought to be happy with whoever she marries. Simon’s, like, “wow, so gracious of you” and, friends, I don’t think he was being sarcastic. The 1800s were rubbish. The guys lay aside their internalized misogyny for a minute, so they can make some plans. Simon agrees to go to Lady Danbury’s ball (so Anthony doesn’t have to suffer alone) and also to dine with the Bridgertons soon. Simon’s, like, “are you trying to set me up with your sister???” But, no, Anthony would never. Like, EVER. Trust me on this, Simon.

At the aforementioned ball, Daphne is hiding from her latest rejected suitor, some wet blanket named Nigel. That is a very wet-blanketish name, apologies to all present day Nigels reading this newsletter. Anthony joins her; he’s hiding from their mother, who is trying to set him up with a wife too. [Remember, all this happens before The Viscount Who Loved Me, so we are not being invited to contemplate bigamy here.] So intent is Violet upon this business, that she gave both Daphne and Anthony separate lists of prospective mates. We stan a well-organized woman but, also, wow. I can’t decide if my dating life would have been better or worse if my mother had done something like this. Anyway, Benedict and Colin turn up next; they’re not hiding from anything for the time being. Colin has just returned from one of his overseas trips. They’re mostly here to act as Greek chorus.

Next, we are introduced to Lady Danbury, one of my favourite characters in this entire saga. What you need to know about her is that she is the kind of old lady who says what she wants, does what she wants, intimidates the hell out of everyone, and generally creates chaos whenever possible. In other words, the kind of old lady I aspire to be. Lady Danbury has a quick but mostly inconsequential chat with the assembled Bridgertons and a few things become clear: she likes Daphne (because she’s spunky), she tolerates Anthony (because he let Daphne decline her wet blanket suitor), and hasn’t thought much about the other Bridgertons. I am convinced she will come to adore Colin in due time, because everyone does.

Meanwhile, Simon is wandering the halls of Lady D’s house, avoiding the ballroom where the desperate mamas are prowling, and reminiscing. He’s agreed to come to this ball because he likes Lady Danbury, who was kind to him as a child. After his last meeting with his father, Simon made his own way in society (albeit with passive financial help from the duke); got himself accepted to Eton and then Oxford, and became a hit with the ton, all before the age of 30. The key to his success in society is, as best as I can tell, the fact that he’s a good-looking, fabulously wealthy duke, has a good resting bitch face and doesn’t talk much. His reticence is due to his fear of stammering in front of people, but everyone thinks it’s because he’s profound or something. There is an illustrative example that involves Simon giving Beau Brummel the cut and thereby enhancing his own social cachet, and honestly, I am offended on Beau Brummel’s behalf. On this point, I recommend Georgette Heyer’s Regency Buck, in which Brummel is a supporting character who helps the heroine make her way in society; it’s a much better book overall than The Duke and I. But I digress.

Simon’s reminiscing is cut short when he overhears a scene in progress between a young lady who turns out to be Daphne (although Simon doesn’t know that at first) and an inebriated man who turns out to be Nigel, the wet blanket. Nigel is still trying to convince Daphne to marry him and ends up making some unspecified but clearly undesirable moves that result in Daphne clocking him. Simon is immediately taken with her resourcefulness. Daphne sees him and is immediately taken with his gorgeousness. What I’m saying is, they have instant rapport. As they argue about how to deal with the semi-conscious Nigel, sparks are flying. But before Simon can decide how to best move in for a kiss, he realizes that Daphne is Daphne, aka his best friend’s sister. Horniness foiled! They settle for merely disposing of Nigel (in a non-murderous way) and then make their way back to the ballroom separately, lest anyone twig on to what just happened.

As expected, Simon is immediately accosted by a bunch of desperate mamas, including Mrs. Featherington, who has 3 unmarried daughters on her hands, plus a 4th one at home. They’re called Prudence, Phillipa, Penelope, and Felicity. What, not Phelicity? I guess we had to wait for the Kardashians to show us the potential of kreative spelling. Prudence and Phillipa are immediately dismissable; they’re boring and insipid. Penelope, meanwhile, is “somewhat pudgy” and “not terribly attractive” but “has kind eyes” which is damning with faint praise, isn’t it. Julia Quinn better make it up to Penelope for this terrible introduction by, oh I don’t know, saving the best Bridgerton brother for her. Or something like that. Anyway, Simon escapes the clutches of the desperate mamas and runs into the Bridgerton brothers instead. He may regret that in a minute. The men chit chat and then someone points out Daphne who is on the other side of the room, miserable because her mother is trying to set her up with some Lord or other. Simon inadvertently reveals that he’s already met her. Anthony is immediately suspicious; why did Simon not mention this before? Is he trying to hide something? It better not be a boner for Anthony’s sister. As we will soon find out, Anthony is like a dog with a bone when he gets a bee in his bonnet about something. Ok, that’s a badly mixed metaphor and rather unfortunate given Anthony’s history with bees. Oh well, my point is made, I think.

Simon and the brothers walk over to Violet and Daphne, and Simon is formerly introduced. He and Daphne exchange glances; they’re going to keep up the pretense that nothing happened earlier. Simon spots Mrs. Featherington approaching again, so he decides the only escape is to ask Daphne to dance. They dance and talk about their respective difficulties in the marriage market. Simon confides that he doesn’t want to get married. Daphne’s all, like, “eh, all men say that before they get married”. Babe, I think you better listen to this one, I smell a red flag. Daphne herself is all for marriage, as much as her mother’s constant matchmaking efforts annoy her; she wants a husband and lots of kids, because she comes from a large family. Simon reveals himself to be the more perceptive of the two and immediately recognizes the red flag waving in the air. He doesn’t want to get married or have any kids EVER, so courting Daphne is a no-go.

Instead, he comes up with the idea of a sham courtship. For a supposedly brilliant guy, Simon sure sounds like a 13-year old who’s watched one too many late 1990s teen movies. Which is funny because movies and the late 1990s weren’t invented until much later. The idea is that Simon’s attentions will make Daphne more popular with other men, thereby increasing her chances of an acceptable proposal, and Daphne will deter desperate mamas from chasing after Simon for their own daughters, at least for a season. At some point, Daphne will jilt Simon and nobody will be any the wiser as to this subterfuge. I could list a dozen ways in which this plan could go badly awry, but don’t worry: this story will give us a real doozy. Daphne thinks it’s a great idea, though. Lordy.

Simon and Daphne return to the rest of the family and proceed to execute their plan by flirting in a PG-13 kind of way in front of everyone. Violet is beyond delighted, and Anthony is beyond furious. This is going to be the pattern for the rest of the book.

Next afternoon, Simon goes to the Bridgertons’ house to pay a visit. He finds 6 other men there, vying for Daphne’s affections. One is even reciting poetry to her. Daphne is elated, even though the poetry sounds pretty bad; the plan seems to be going amazingly well. Violet, however, has only one goal in mind and that’s to throw Simon and Daphne together as much as possible. To that end, she quickly dispatches Daphne’s other would-be suitors, and vacates the room for a suspiciously long time. Daphne and Simon enjoy a nice little chat, during which she propounds her theory that Simon is not a real rake because his sense of humour is not cruel, or something to that effect. Not sure I buy it, but go off, Daff. She tries to convince Simon that they should fill Anthony in on their sham courtship plan. Simon disagrees. Before they can figure it out, Violet comes back and Simon finally gets to give her the flowers he brought her. Why wait until now? Seems odd. If Violet liked Simon before, she loves him now. Even Daphne is impressed; apparently not a single one of Violet’s 8 children has ever thought to give her flowers before. I bet they never even gave her any macaroni jewelry. Brats, all 8 of them. Also, Daphne is easily impressed. But I digress.

Anthony turns up, and it’s Macho Man Time. It is always Macho Man Time when Anthony turns up in this story. I am beginning to long for a game of Pall Mall and the chance to knock Anthony’s balls ball into a lake. Anthony is angry because Simon has a terrible reputation and while that was totally acceptable when Simon was just his best friend, it’s totally unacceptable now that he's also Daphne’s suitor. Also, he doesn’t believe Simon is actually interested in marrying Daphne. He has a point but he’s still completely unbearable about it. Violet will not hear a word against Simon, but she can’t overrule her son for once. Anthony and Simon go off to Anthony’s study to hash things out.

Simon’s, like, why don’t you believe I’m legitimately interested in marrying your sister? Oh, ho! Anthony can’t wait to tell him! First, he knows Simon doesn’t want to get married. Well, sh*t. One and done, I think. But Simon shrugs that off (what!?!) is, like, ok anything else? Anthony’s on a roll, so yes, there’s more. Second is the fact that no one wants to marry Daphne. OUCH! Even Simon’s, like, you don’t seem to think much of your sister, bro. Anthony is instantly outraged because he thinks Simon is insulting Daphne. Simon’s, like, nah, you dolt: I am insulting you for being a jerk to your sister. Which, fair.  Go, Simon.

Daphne comes in and, long story short, she and Simon come clean to Anthony. Anthony reacts extremely calmly. JUST KIDDING! He hits the roof. Look, he has a point – it really is a hare-brained idea – but, again, he’s a total d*ck about it. He eventually relents and agrees to go along with it, subject to 3 conditions: 1) they can’t tell anyone else, including Violet; 2) Simon and Daphne can never be left alone; and 3) if Simon so much as breathes in a compromising fashion in Daphne’s direction, Anthony will kill him. So. Much. Foreshadowing. But also, given what we covered in last week’s newsletter: So. Much. Irony. Here is Anthony, sitting on an extremely high horse at this moment, and there is a compromise-by-bee incident in his not-so-distant future. Hah! Simon, for his part, takes the conditions and the posturing in good humour. In fact, he seems to think they reflect well on Anthony as the head of the family. He’s not merely the young rakish buck that Simon knew 6 years ago; he’s a proper paterfamilias now, which means being a petty dictator to his sisters.  

Simon is supposed to be having dinner with the Bridgertons that night and, despite Anthony’s best efforts to rescind the invitation (which HE made, as you will recall), Violet will not hear otherwise. She’s basically already planning Simon’s and Daphne’s wedding. When Daphne realizes how invested her mother has become in this whole idea, she starts to reconsider the wisdom of their plan. Her mother will be devastated when the sham courtship comes to nothing; ending it will be hard too, because Daphne has no compelling reason to give her mother to explain why. She thinks it might be easier if Simon jilted her. Maybe easier, but definitely not better for her subsequent marital prospects which is THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS EXERCISE, remember, Daff?? And the plan is starting to break down even further because Daphne is also starting to think that she might not want to let Simon go. Giiiiirl. This is why you don’t play with fire stupid sham courtships.

OK, we are going to skip over the next few scenes because they all involve Simon hanging out with the Bridgertons and nothing super interesting happens except what you would expect. Anthony scowls a lot, Simon makes it obvious to Daphne that he has some daddy issues and that he absolutely does not want to have kids, and Daphne remains oblivious to the red flags that are practically hitting her in the face. Even after Anthony confirms that Simon has been adamant about not getting married for as long as Anthony has known him (though Anthony doesn’t know why), Daphne is still, like, “maybe he will change his mind.” Oh, girl.

Two weeks later, we’re at some other ball. Daphne is the belle of it. She’s society’s new darling and has more suitors than she knows what to do with. She’s also miserable because she only has fun when Simon is around. Problem is, they’ve decided that he can’t be around all the time because he needs to let other men have a chance to pursue Daphne. Well, Anthony has decided and Simon and Daphne are going along with it. So Daphne is spending this ball hiding in some corner again, because Simon isn’t there and she can’t bear it. Colin turns up to liven things up a bit. We find out he’s also become very popular since his return to London; the ton knows who’s the best Bridgerton brother, clearly. He’s also Daphne’s favourite brother, coincidentally – although, if the choice is between Anthony, Benedict (who?) and a 10-year (Gregory), that’s really not saying much. Colin doesn’t get to stick around long, though, because Simon makes a surprise appearance, literally right behind Daphne. It’s not nice to startle people, Simon. Anyway, Colin thoughtfully scrams, and Simon and Daphne have a moment to be alone. Wait! Isn’t that against the rules?? Anthony is going to have an aneurysm.

At first, things don’t go so well because Daphne somehow manages to turn the conversation to Simon’s dead dad yet again and Simon reacts as badly as ever. They get over that and then, just when you think you can relax a bit, things go fully pear-shaped. Because somehow or other they end up outside on the terrace – ALONE – and then in the garden – EVEN MORE ALONE.

And it’s dark.

And they’re looking at the stars.

And they start kissing.

SH*T.

All hell breaks loose.

Anthony busts in and start throwing fists around and not bothering with any questions at all. In fairness, he told them what he was going to do in this situation. And we know Anthony is a man of his word. On the other hand, it’s not clear that anyone else has observed the kissing at this point, so Anthony may be a little premature in assuming that Simon has compromised Daphne. This is what I mean about people just acting irrationally in this book, all for the sake of plot development. Anyway, Simon doesn’t attempt to defend himself because man code or something. Daphne tries to intervene but all she gets for her trouble is a shove into some bramble bushes. Ouch. Anthony stops pummeling Simon long enough for Simon to rescue Daphne from the brambles, only to realize that his sister is now practically naked (thorns are hard on silk, y’all) and chooses violence all over again. Simon’s face is now tenderloin, but despite Daphne’s entreaties, he just keep repeating that he can’t marry her. It's not her, it’s these vows he made to himself. They all say that, don’t they? But Simon is sticking to his guns, so the only remaining option is apparently a duel. I would have picked “hushing up the whole thing like normal people” but what do I know.

At home, Daphne is frantic. She knows that Anthony will aim to kill in the duel, and Simon won’t duck or whatever, so he’s as good as dead. Daphne can’t let that happen. She asks Colin for help. Colin is horrified by the whole debacle, just like the rest of us. But when he tells Daphne that he saw her and Simon go into the garden alone and thinks others may have done the same, Daphne gets an idea. She is going to save Simon by begging him to save her. I hate it, but I guess Daphne is fresh out of better ideas.

Duel grounds. Benedict is Anthony’s second, but Simon has come alone. As Daphne suspected, he doesn’t intend to lift a finger and, instead, will let Anthony shoot him dead. All this f*cking melodrama, guys. I’m exhausted. And there’s more. Daphne comes galloping (with Colin) and demands some time alone with Simon. This is what got us into this mess, Daphne! She tells Simon that they were seen going into the garden alone, ergo she has been compromised and she needs him to “save” her by marrying her. Simon’s, like, sorry, I would rather die. But Daphne won’t let it go and keeps badgering him to save me, save me, save meeeeeee. Finally, Simon breaks down and tells her that he can’t marry her because he knows that she wants to have kids and he can’t have any. Note the operative “can’t” here, it’s going to be important later. Daphne thinks for a split second and say, ok. I’ll marry you anyway.

The duel is off, the marriage is on, and I have a bad feeling about it all.

I am going to skip ahead again because nothing super important happens while the wedding preparations are underway. Anthony and Simon sorta patch things up, except that Anthony threatens to kill Simon (again) if Simon hurts Daphne once they’re married. I think, at this point, we can just assume that Anthony will threaten bodily harm to someone at least once every 50 pages. If I don’t mention it again, just assume it happens, ok?

The night before the wedding, Violet tries to give Daphne “the talk”. This is a legitimately funny scene and I wish Julia Quinn had saved it for a better book. The long and short of it is that the only information Violet is able to impart to Daphne is that something called “marital relations” produces children but that some people also have marital relations for fun. Like her and Daphne’s father, for example. Repeatedly. Daphne is befuddled and also mildly grossed out. I sympathize, even though I never had “the talk”. I first learned about sex from reading the naughty bits in the Old Testament as a young child, and then filling in the details later as a teen when I finally got my hands on a Cosmo magazine. AND I GREW UP TOTALLY FINE, thankyouverymuch.

Daphne and Simon get married and set off for Clyvedon on their honeymoon. They spend a night at an inn, and Simon is foiled in his attempts to get them separate bedrooms. Daphne interprets these efforts as a sign that Simon is impotent. Why? Because Violet told her that marital relations produce children, and Simon said he can’t have kids, ergo he can’t have marital relations. Simon’s, like, hold my beer.

They have sex, Daphne loses her virginity AND has an orgasm all in one go (doesn’t everyone?), and Simon surreptitiously ejaculates on a bedsheet. One night down, a lifetime of deception to go.

At Clyvedon, Simon and Daphne have lots of sex but Simon is still not willing to open up about things like his childhood, no matter how many times Daphne tries. Eventually, with some inadvertent help from the housekeeper (a fount of useful information about Simon’s family), Daphne figures out how babies are really made. She then puts 2 and 2 together and realizes that Simon has been lying to her all along: it’s not that he can’t have kids, it’s that he won’t. She’s (quite rightfully) very upset. Simon finally tells her about his sh*tty dad, the stammer, the Dickensian childhood, and his determination to have the last laugh on his dad by not having kids and letting the family title expire. Daphne is sympathetic and supportive on all of the other issues but can’t understand why Simon refuses to have kids. Simon’s, like, “well, whatever, I told you I wouldn’t, repeatedly.” Which, in fairness, he did. Daphne’s, like, “you said that you couldn’t not that you wouldn’t.” Which, in fairness, is also a valid point. They’re at a standstill.

Alone, Simon tries to justify himself to himself. He’s not entirely convinced with his own arguments. Neither am I, but I am also at the point of thinking this entire plot is tedious and absurd so I am NOT IN THE MOOD. Skipping ahead.

Another fight. Skipping that too.

Daphne calls Simon’s bluff when he threatens to exercise his legal rights to her body as her husband if Daphne doesn’t return to their bedroom AND OMG I’M SKIPPING BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS BULLSH*T.

At this point, I was this close to DNF-ing the book but, believe or not, it gets worse. Still. Somehow.

Simon has gone to the pub to drown his sorrows and returns home very drunk. Daphne feels sorry for him and helps him to bed. They fall asleep together. Later, Daphne wakes up and decides this is a good time to have sex. With her half-asleep, fully inebriated husband. Simon gives enough signs of life for Daphne to feel like he’s into it. She then proceeds to have sex with him until he comes, inside of her. Sorry for the graphic details, but it’s all relevant to the plot. UGH. Simon comes to, realizes what has happened and is understandably devastated. He is so upset he can’t speak, just like he couldn’t speak when he was a child and his father called him an “idiot”. Having your agency taken away tends to do that to you. He leaves without a word, but with a note to Daphne to let him know if she conceives.

Look, this is a really sensitive topic and I don’t think my snarky recap is the place for serious discussion, but here are my 2 cents anyway. I don’t think consent was understood in the 1800s as it is now; hell, I’ve heard people arguing about this scene NOW so it’s clear that consent isn’t entirely understood today. Judged by the standards of her day, Daphne’s biggest crime was probably disobedience to her husband’s wishes regarding conception. But in a book written for a modern audience, this whole plot line was, in my opinion, a terrible authorial choice. And at some level, I think Julia Quinn knew that it was, since she has Daphne spending pages trying to rationalize what she did. Having set up the conflict between Simon and Daphne the way she did – which was also a choice (there could have been other ways to create tension in the story based on Simon’s background) – she could have chosen a different, less problematic resolution. I mean, sh*t, the pull-out method isn’t exactly foolproof — voila, accidental pregnancy.

Back to the story and thank God it’s almost over.

Daphne returns to London alone but refuses to tell anyone what’s wrong even though something clearly is. Even Lady Whistledown has noticed, which isn’t good because Lady Whistledown never shies away from a juicy story. Basically, everyone is about to start wondering why the duke and duchess of Hastings have separated after one month of marriage. To make matters more complicated, Daphne’s period is late. She eventually writes to Simon to let him know and convinces Anthony to take him the letter (and not kill him in the process). Simon reads that he’s going to become a father and returns to London.

Daphne is not at home when Simon arrives; she’s out riding so he goes to look for her. Just as he is about to catch up to her, she suffers a bad fall from her horse. Simon rushes to help her, worried about her injuries and the baby. Turns out, there is no baby; Daphne probably had a chemical pregnancy. Simon tells her he’s sorry about that, and when she challenges him on whether he really means that, he tells her that he wants her back. Apparently, he didn’t leave because of what she did (sure, Jan) but because of how she made him feel – helpless and speechless just like his dad. That’s … splitting hairs, isn’t it? They rehash the whole thing about not having kids so that his dad doesn’t win, and Simon is able to admit that he does want to have a family, feel loved, and be happy. I’m happy he’s happy but, man, I wish we hadn’t arrived at this point in the fashion that we have.

There is a further awkward and unnecessary scene with the Bridgerton brothers where all 3 (Colin included, sadly) act with a complete lack of respect for Daphne’s agency. Blech. Simon finally tells Daphne that he loves her and they kick her brothers out of the house – well, Violet shows up and forcibly removes them. We get another sex scene – everyone being awake and willing, thankfully – and Simon tells Daphne that he is ready to have a baby, for real. The end, and not a moment too soon.

Epilogue no. 1 is all about the birth of David, the new future duke of Hastings. He’s Simon and Daphne’s fourth child, after Amelia, Belinda, and Caroline. Yes, the Hastings are carrying on the alphabetical naming tradition which, honestly, I did not have them pegged for. They’re happy, it’s fine, whatever. Lady Whistledown still has the inside track on everything, including the new baby’s name. She’s a sly fox that one, whoever she is.

Epilogue no. 2 is a fairly pointless story about Daphne being pregnant again at 41, when all their other kids are already grown. We get it; these two are totally and completely over any issues around having kids. Simon finally reads some letters that his father left him, but nothing really comes out of it. Honestly, this might be a worse epilogue than the one with the game of Pall Mall.

Friends, we did it: the elephant is out of the way and now we need never speak of it again. Next time, we’ll tackle Benedict, the Bridgerton brother who’s neither Anthony (generally the worst) nor Colin (always the best).