Book Recap: Moonlit Obsession, Chapter 17

Hello there, gentle readers! We're back and at 'em as usual – I've been having a lot of fun with this recap, except when I wasn't, and there really isn't that much book left, so I'm trying to wrap things up before the end of the month. Today's chapter was a surprisingly short one, in the book at least; it still gave me plenty to dissect, though, so my vaguely-promised double feature recaps will have to wait a little longer, if I can get one done at all. I'm hoping to make up for that by throwing something truly heinous at y'all, though.

Let's see how far into this chapter I can make it before I have to scream into a pillow.

Warning: today's chapter includes yet-freaking-another main character getting physically rough with the heroine. Not to the degree that Burke did, but the fact that I have to include this warning at all makes me want to bite through the book.

Wasn't easy to decide which chapter to use this one for, but I had to.

Chapter 17: Crash-Tinkle-Tinkle

Previously on Moonlit Obsession: incompetent spy Anemone Carstairs showed us all why I gave her that epithet when she helped her creepy love Stephen Burke rescue his best friend, Johnny, from the ship holding him prisoner. After their diversion went hilariously sideways and they almost got caught, the two super mega spies escaped their predicament by going AMERICA, FUCK YEAH and telling the English officers to let them go because Burke is related to the President. No, seriously, that happened. The rescue mission was a success because everyone in this book is dumber than a sack of hammers, but alas, it turns out that Burke's bosom buddy doesn't like the English very much, and he started hating on Anemone the second the words "jolly me, old chap, and a cup of tea" were out of her mouth. Oh, boy!

Chapter 17 starts by telling us that Johnny has refused to thaw towards Anemone all the way to New Orleans, which is making everyone very uncomfortable, but at least Anemone can find some ease in Burke's company, "basking in his love". After him telling her last chapter that she shouldn't even think of leaving him (no, seriously, that happened) I'd sooner bask in the pleasant weather of Antarctica than Buffalo Burke's attentions, but whatever floats your boat, ma'am. However, Anemone being hot in the breeches has finally stopped distracting her from spying now that they're nearing port, and she's thinking about meeting her dad in the hotel he gave her as a rendezvous point and wondering what De Vauban might be plotting.

Just so you know, I'm going MUEHEHEHUEHUE at the thought of telling y'all about that plot. Yes. That dumb.

As she stands on the deck and muses about things to come, Anemone describes the weather in way more detail than I care about, as well as her outfit, and she informs us that the only jewelry she's wearing are "the hairpins she had worn on the ship that first night Stephen had abducted her". Try to spot what's wrong with that sentence. It's not the hairpins. After freaking us all the fuck out, she takes a stroll and happens across Johnny's cabin; the door is open right now, so she decides to stop by and cautiously greets him. Johnny gives her a look that could strip paint from a submarine, but then tells Anemone that he wants to talk to her. Oh, boy.

Anemone spares a moment to be torn between wanting to like Johnny because Burke cares about him, and hating on him because he's an ass. Frankly, I'm not surprised Burke is so close with this guy, because he's an ass. (Do I mean Burke or Johnny? Yes.) We're then informed that despite his weakened state Johnny is still "boyishly handsome" – because God forbid we have an ugly person in this book – then he brings up De Vauban's eeeevil plans. When Anemone says those plans must be bad for both their countries, Johnny insults England and goes AMERICA, FUCK YEAH at Anemone, because hating on the English is his only character trait. He then informs Anemone that Burke's mom herself is an Englishwoman, and then he freaks me the fuck out.

"Yes. And Aunt Elizabeth – that's what I call Stephen's mother – was kidnapped by Alex Burke, seized from a British merchantman and brought on board his privateer ship. They fell in love. It's a wonderful tale; I've heard it countless times over the years."

What is wrong with these people?!

(The correct answer to that question is: would you like the list alphabetically, or ranked by heinousness?)

After Johnny tries to jab at Anemone a few more times by telling her that Burke's mom is as much in love with 'Murica now as she is with her husband, Anemone asks if he has a point to make with that skin-crawling little love story, and he insults her openly by telling her she's nothing compared to ol' Betsy Ross Burke. If you're wondering whether there's a point to this scene other than these two waving the Union Jack and the stars and stripes at each other more and more frantically: yes, actually, there is. It's going to punch us all in the face a few paragraphs later. Anemone tries to deflect Johnny's sneering by asking why he can't be happy for his friend being in lurve, or enjoy the fact that he's not currently under lock and key on the Belvidere (which I grudgingly concede are excellent questions), and Johnny laughs in her face at her telling him that Burke is totally in twu wuv with her.

He raked the length of her with a contemptuous sneer.

Why does this book keep telling me about people's lengths like they're flagpoles?

Anyway, Anemone has enough of the discussion – I had enough of it before it even started, but thank you – and decides to leave. Try not to faint from surprise when I say this, but Johnny grabs her and refuses to let her go. He tells Anemone he's about to enlighten her how Burke really feels about her, shakes her arm and I'm officially promoting him to "vat of fire ants" status, then he drops a disgusting line about how every woman swoons over Burke's bulging biceps, not "just common women, the harlots and the courtesans". I could point out quite a lot of women I know who were freaked the fuck out by Buffalo Burke, but no, please, keep me swooning with that sweet, sweet misogyny. I know I said I wouldn't dignify this cishet nonsense even with jokey shipping, but the level of venom this guy has for Anemone makes me think he's just mad she's beat him to the punch at getting into Burke's trousers.

When Johnny says he has no idea what Burke sees in her (which I grudgingly concede is an excellent question) Anemone tells him she'll make him sorry and tries to leave again, to which he reacts by shoving her into the wall. Then he insults her some more, grabs her again and shakes her like a tambourine.

I almost forgot for a second what it feels like to black out in rage while reading this book. Thank you for the reminder.

We then get the real reason for this gross little display: apparently, William Tuttle told Johnny that Burke planned a while ago to seduce the New Orleans intel out of Anemone, which he is now pleased to throw in Anemone's face as the proof that Burke never really loved her. Thank you, William. We couldn't have had our Big Romantic Misunderstanding without you deciding that somehow that was an appropriate thing to discuss with the guy who has a grudge the size of the Statue of Liberty against this woman.

GOD.

Anemone tries to tell herself Johnny is just saying this to get a rise out of her, but then she remembers Burke telling Viscount Who-Cares back at the Pelham abode that she's "hardly a raving beauty" and that makes her actually consider that Johnny is not, in fact, lying right now. Because God forbid people's opinions change over time, or something. The fact that her immediate reaction is to doubt her One True Hunk is so telling of the depth of their true lurve, too. She then stares at Johnny's face to decipher if he's telling her the truth– pardon, I meant "every line and angle of his boyishly handsome countenance, every glimmer in his brown, long-lashed eyes". Uh, excuse me, why is she studying the eyelashes of the guy who hates her with the passion of a thousand soap operas?

(This book clearly isn't bold enough to throw in some hatesex. Although considering the caveman-style sexual politics in this thing, that's probably a blessing in disguise.)

Anyway, after the book reassuring us that Burke's best friend with a crush is, in fact, hot – we didn't care, but thank you – Anemone somehow divines from his manly visage that Johnny didn't invent what he said to her, and you can practically hear the crash-tinkle-tinkle of her heart hitting the floor. Rather than, I don't know, confront her muscular love, Anemone just turns and walks off the ship, ending the chapter by wandering around in New Orleans in a daze while crying her eyes out.

Just for fun... remember this bit from chapter 8?

She was crying, weeping like an idiot, like the kind of blathering, hartshorn and handkerchief ninny she had always detested, but she couldn't help herself.

Ah, I love the smell of hypocrisy in the morning.

If you're thinking that the Big Romantic Misunderstanding somehow still has a chance to be taken care of in a healthy way... oh, honey. Join me again in the next chapter, where we meet a very special someone and get more of Anemone refusing to communicate like an adult with her worse half. Be very afraid.