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A review by jackiehorne
The Earl's Mistress by Liz Carlyle
3.0
2.5 Isabella Aldridge's last position, as governess for the notorious Marchioness of Petershaw (better known as La Séductrice), has made it next to impossible for her to find a new job. Her last hope is the Earl of Hepplewood, a nobleman with a reputation almost as black as Lady Petershaw's. But when Hepplewood, who finds Isabella far too attractive for his peace of mind, offers her the position of mistress instead of governess, Isabella slaps him.
Deciding, though, that he's right that her best chance of supporting herself (and her two younger sisters) is by selling her body rather than her brain, Isabella asks the Marchioness to help her find a likely patron. Secrecy abounds, but readers won't be surprised when they find out who this new patron is...
The two have one night of BDSM sex (slapping and whipping), after which the earl sends her away. Isabella thinks it's because she didn't please him, but of course it is rather the opposite. And of course he can't stay away. And since Isabella has an even more foul cousin urging her to marry him, the earl gets to step in and play hero, proving that despite his domineering sexual proclivities, he's really a good guy, one who deserves the girl.
I found Isabella as a character far too passive to be interesting. Much was made of her having to work so hard to support her younger sisters, so much so that it only made sense that she would enjoy relinquishing control in the bedroom, an explanation that just doesn't hold water for me, both because she was so passive throughout most of the book, and because I think there is a difference between enjoying giving up control during sex and enjoying being spanked and whipped.
I also found the characters' attitudes toward their own sexual likes rather confusing. Is Hepplewood's self-loathing due in part to disgust at his enjoyment of sadism? Or is his self-loathing completely separate from his sexual proclivities? It was difficult to tell. As was Isabella's attitude towards her encounters with Hepplewood. At one point, she says she didn't like what Hepplewood did to her in bed; at many others, she's ashamed for enjoying something she thinks she shouldn't. What, though, is she enjoying? The masochism? Or the submission? It wasn't entirely clear.
Carlyle is great at writing intense, sexually-charged relationships. But because of its lack of clarity about each character's attitudes towards their own sexual desires, this book won't be one for my keeper shelf.
Deciding, though, that he's right that her best chance of supporting herself (and her two younger sisters) is by selling her body rather than her brain, Isabella asks the Marchioness to help her find a likely patron. Secrecy abounds, but readers won't be surprised when they find out who this new patron is...
The two have one night of BDSM sex (slapping and whipping), after which the earl sends her away. Isabella thinks it's because she didn't please him, but of course it is rather the opposite. And of course he can't stay away. And since Isabella has an even more foul cousin urging her to marry him, the earl gets to step in and play hero, proving that despite his domineering sexual proclivities, he's really a good guy, one who deserves the girl.
I found Isabella as a character far too passive to be interesting. Much was made of her having to work so hard to support her younger sisters, so much so that it only made sense that she would enjoy relinquishing control in the bedroom, an explanation that just doesn't hold water for me, both because she was so passive throughout most of the book, and because I think there is a difference between enjoying giving up control during sex and enjoying being spanked and whipped.
I also found the characters' attitudes toward their own sexual likes rather confusing. Is Hepplewood's self-loathing due in part to disgust at his enjoyment of sadism? Or is his self-loathing completely separate from his sexual proclivities? It was difficult to tell. As was Isabella's attitude towards her encounters with Hepplewood. At one point, she says she didn't like what Hepplewood did to her in bed; at many others, she's ashamed for enjoying something she thinks she shouldn't. What, though, is she enjoying? The masochism? Or the submission? It wasn't entirely clear.
Carlyle is great at writing intense, sexually-charged relationships. But because of its lack of clarity about each character's attitudes towards their own sexual desires, this book won't be one for my keeper shelf.