Book Recap: Moonlit Obsession, Chapter 20

Hello again, gentle readers!

To everyone who hasn't jumped ship even after the horrors of chapter 19: rest assured that I won't hit y'all with something like that again. Today's chapter gave me slightly less funny bad to work with, but also much less bad bad to scream in horror at; I consider that a fair trade. I did my best to recap what I was given, though. Enjoy.

Pictured: Monsieur De Vauban.

Chapter 20: The Ooh La La Eyes

Last time on Moonlit Obsession: after being told they needed to work together to stop a very poorly thought-out Evil Scheme, strangely-named heroine Anemone Carstairs and her creepy love Stephen Burke immediately went for each other's throats as soon as they were alone. Because we needed a Big Romantic Misunderstanding in this story and dear God, did we get it. After Buffalo Burke earned his nickname in a not-at-all funny way when he almost killed his lady love because his feelings were hurt (no, seriously, that happened) he told her that no matter what, they do have to keep working together and posing as a couple. Because that's the genius cover story Anemone's dad came up with for the two people who obviously loathe each other right now. Oh, the irony.

Chapter 20 starts with Anemone getting ready for the next stage of the Thirty Second Wonder Plan. Turns out she and Burke actually went as far as coldly and politely discussing their duties after the murderfeelings cooled down a little, but Burke still objects to Anemone being a central part of the proceedings, which Anemone finds strange because "he had already seen evidence of her skills as a spy". In a sane spy novel that evidence would be all the reason someone would need to protest Anemone's inclusion in a plot to stop a war... but this is the world of the Super Mega Spies, so frankly, I'm as baffled right now as she is.

Anemone then reveals that the Thirty Second Wonder Plan involves her seeing a whole bunch of merchants and seamstresses, so she can get outfitted with a shitload of expensive dresses and jewelry for her femme fatale role at the murder ball. One would think these master spies would try to go about their business with less fanfare, but then again, they did not spend a very long time coming up with this plan.

She only knew that when she finished with them all, or more appropriately, they with her, she had found herself in possession of a dozen new gowns with matching shoes, hats, jewels, stockings, reticules, and shawls. 

SUPER MEGA SPY!

I have seen less conspicuous displays at building demolitions. Holy shit.

Anyway, Anemone has the gall to insist that this excuse to put her in fancy clothes is necessary to the plot, because she must look ready for New Orleans high society to get close enough to De Vauban for some honeytrapping. I'm wearing out my Thirty Second Wonder Plan joke, so I'll just say something else. Namely that I find it a little funny how the heroine starts the book by karate-chopping a guy and pointing a gun at him in chapter 1, then pulls about sixteen mad expert skillz out of her posterior that never become plot-relevant while constantly dissing other women... only to coincidentally end up in a scheme that makes use of literally none of her mad skillz, and just needs her to wear fancy dresses, look pretty and flirt.

Draw your own conclusions, gentle readers.

As we go on, Anemone describes her latest dress in way more detail than I care about, informing us that it has a "daringly low-cut bodice" because of course, and that "It displayed to admirable advantage every curve and hollow of her young, lithe figure" and I think I smell some fail because if it displays her... hollows, it might be a little more daring than the standards of the time for high-society fashion would allow. I'll admit I only did a small Google search on this, so feel free to call me out if you happen to be into fashion history, but I think that's either a description or a fashion whoopsie.

Anemone then displays a frankly surprising amount of maturity by telling herself that now's not the time for angsting about her paaaaaain because she has an actually kind of important mission, which starts tonight. Alas, I'm left scratching my head because I wonder where she stashed that maturity when she decided that pissing off Buffalo Burke because he gave her feelings an ouchie was the smart thing to do. Maybe it's one of those periodic things, like the tides. After some more outfit description and shilling of her beauty that I continue to not care about, Anemone goes to meet Burke while all glitzed up; he, in turn, gives her a bitterly admiring line, which would work beautifully in a better romance novel where the heroes have a reason to act like wistful exes other than "because they're both idiots". But I'm feeling spiteful after the previous chapter, so no cookie points for that one.

Anyway, they're apparently going to the opera now, so Anemone can begin batting her eyelashes at De Vauban right away.

The "plan," like all good schemes, was quite simple.

The scare quotes are actually in the book, FYI – it seems like even the narrator thinks that this is barely a plan. Said "plan" hinges on the fact that De Vauban apparently really, really, really likes seducing married women, and then taking on their husbands in duels when they find out or suspect the affair.

He was a noted duelist and had killed a number of men on the field of honor.

A number of men? If he collects scandals like these the way I collect stamps, I'm a bit amazed he's still admitted into polite society, but hey. It's not like this plot could get even flimsier, right?

...right?

Picture an ominous thunderclap after I said that.

Turns out Mr. Carstairs has difficulty actually finding out more about De Vauban's schemes because his circles are so secretive, and one of the Carstairs associates already died hard because he spied hard. I won't scratch my head again because I've been scratching it so much that I'll definitely go bald by the end of this recap... but if this plan is so amazingly important and De Vauban is apparently better guarded than a place that's super well-guarded, how did Mr. Carstairs and his cartwheeling mimes find out who the target is and why?

Feel free to ponder this logic knot of a story while Mr. Carstairs tells us that Anemone is his best hope to foil the murder plot now – God help Lord Bromford if that's the case. We then land with a sharp left turn in Anemone's POV (seriously, it's so sudden I just kind of blinked at it) as a carriage is taking her and Burke to the opera. And then I laughed very hard, mostly so I wouldn't blow a fuse.

The glow from the street lamps occasionally illuminated Stephen's harsh, handsome face, and for a moment Anemone found herself taken back to that night in London when Stephen had forcibly put her into the carriage and brought her to his ship.

"Forcibly put her into the carriage and brought her to his ship" is a very interesting way to say "kidnapped a terrified woman". I guess that's what happens when you use Google Translate.

Anyway, after some more wangst they arrive at the opera house, and Burke points out De Vauban and Lord Bromford in a nearby box to Anemone. Anemone has some over-the-top flirty eye contact with De Vauban, who is apparently a magnet.

The man had a magnetism that flowed across the brightly lit room. She felt it touch her and spark something deep within. 

Did I just amuse myself with a mental image of Anemone flying headfirst across the room to stick to De Vauban? You can't know for sure, and I ain't telling.

After Anemone gives him the ooh la la eyes during the intermission in the performance, De Vauban pretty much vaults headlong across the room to meet her – seriously, that intermission isn't even over when he shows up at Anemone's box asking to be introduced. Smooth. Apparently, he's also very hot with black hair and "ice green" eyes, and frankly, I'm getting so used to the fanfic eye colors in this thing that I just nodded sagely when I read that. Despite finding him hot, Anemone is creeped out by "a certain oily malice in the gleam of his eyes" – subtle as a brick to the head, this book is – but dials up the charm anyway by greeting him in French. And then De Vauban stares at her boobs.

No, seriously.

A slight blush tinted her cheeks as he quite openly studied the finely sculpted lines of her face, the sweep of her hair, and then allowed his gaze to fall directly to the swell of white bosom above the bodice of her dress.

I see he and Burke have learned their flirting skills from only the finest Subreddits out there.

Anemone is, of course, outraged – only Buffalo Burke is allowed to leer at her boobs, dammit – but cranks up the charm a few more notches, and ends up getting herself and Burke invited to Lord Bromford's murder ball. Within ten minutes of meeting De Vauban – if we're generous.

Monsieur De Vauban, are you familiar with the term "Idiot Plot"?

Anyway, after handing the zeroes the opportunity they need on a silver platter, De Vauban goes back to his box, and Anemone and Burke leave too as soon as the opera performance is over. Back in the carriage, they exchange some almost-friendly banter, then Anemone pokes the plothole.

"I find it difficult to believe he is not shunned by society if he is as transparent with all the others as he was tonight," she remarked.

Ma'am, that's my job.

Burke deflects the plothole poke by saying that De Vauban is usually more discreet (nevermind that he's seen more gunfights than a Texas saloon over his conquests, if we go by what the book told us a few pages ago), and simply happens to hate Burke because Burke once prevented him from seducing a vulnerable young woman.

How noble of you, Burke. Is that hypocrisy I smell again, or is it your new cologne?

Anyway, all the seduction talk ends with Burke and Anemone reminiscing about their nights of true lurve, and yet again, the angst would work much, much better if they hadn't both decided to lie to the other just to save their own pride rather than talk it out like a pair of gosh diddly darn adults. So pardon me if I don't soak my pillow with my tears right now. To avoid the There Was Only One Bed trope (pity, I kinda enjoy that one... maybe not in this dreck, though), Burke decides to sleep on the floor back in their hotel room, and they end the chapter by angstily going to bed and purply lamenting their lost love.

Told y'all it was smoother sailing now, gentle readers. Take care until next time, and if you're wondering what that sound is behind you... you're hearing a pair of giant squeaky clown shoes drawing nearer. See y'all soon with more bad.