Greetings, dear readers!
I bring another chapter on the heels of the last one, since I am trying my best to recap the rest of this book before next month, and there's a beastly long discussion brewing in me that gets more elaborate with every single moment of fail. Until we get there, enjoy the latest offering!
Warning: this chapter involves the hero kissing the heroine against her will, but as per this book's track record, she ends up being into it. However, she is unhappy about what happened afterwards. Sigh.
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| Thank you for today's reading face, Mr. Spock. |
Chapter 22: I Seem To Have Misplaced My Sympathy
Chapter 22 starts with Burke sitting in a coffee house and conferring with Johnny about spy stuff, and no – look, I know the whole "hiding in public" thing is a common trope when characters have to be sneaky, but when it comes to actually discussing sensitive intel, hiding in a hiding place generally tends to work better for secrecy. Or so I'm told.
Anyway, Johnny asks if they shouldn't alert the Governor that something fishy is happening under his nose, but Burke tells him they don't know how far the murder ball plot goes and who else is in on it, because apparently Mr. Carstairs is a terrible spy. He doesn't say that last part, but we're all thinking it. Johnny laments not having any input from their higher-ups on how to proceed, and Burke's reply, as he tells Johnny that he takes full responsibility for whatever happens, makes me raise my eyebrows to the ceiling.
"You're getting too dependent on orders from high. Remember when we first started this business? Working on our own, catching the devil every time we finished an assignment? I still operate that way, my friend."
Look, there's a reason why "loose cannon spy" isn't a trope, my man.
So after Burke reveals that he's also the worst spy ever and thus a perfect match for his lady love, the two stupidity agents start reminiscing about past assignments and their friendship. I'm still not dignifying that with a gay joke. Naturally, they end up on the topic of Anemone, and Johnny muses uncomfortably about how under the stoic facade, he can see Burke's paaaaaain when he tells Johnny that it's over. I seem to have misplaced my sympathy, though.
And then Johnny makes me want to dropkick him into a volcano.
"So forget her. When this assignment is over, we'll find ourselves a couple of women, quadroons maybe, and hole up somewhere for days with them. They'll make you forget that little bitch."
Misogynists of a feather also flock together, apparently.
Despite Johnny's disgusting reassurance, Burke laments not being able to let go of his true lurve for Anemone, shits on Cecilia again when he says "she had pursued him with a brazenness uncommon in most gently bred young women", and I still say her pinky finger is worth ten of both of you guys, but go off, I guess. I'm firmly Team Cecilia. (Yes, I know Cecilia is barely a character. That's exactly why I'm clinging to her, because everyone who does have a character in this book suffers from Jerk Disease. Shh. Let me have that.) He then says "I should have thrown her overboard the first night, as I threatened" – her, of course, meaning Anemone. Johnny is very alarmed by his bosom buddy's reaction. So am I, but for different reasons, because I'm freaked the fuck out by Buffalo Burke's constant murdery urges, while Johnny's just worried about Burke's paaaaaain. Personally, I think Burke deserves all the actual pain ever, but I digress.
So after Johnny proves that he's a shitty friend by noticing his buddy's paaaaaain but still refusing to tell Burke that he's the one who started the whole Big Romantic Misunderstanding, turns out that I misread something when I was first going through this book for the recap: there's going to be an official ball given in Lord Bromford's honor later, which is where the super mega spies are expecting the most epic murder of the century to happen, while De Vauban's event tonight is something that he's organizing privately himself. My bad, gentle readers; you're getting my reactions to everything as I go through this book for the first time in over two years, so sometimes things slip by me. I will say, though, that the official ball and De Vauban's personal event are described in ways that make them very easy to mix up with each other. And frankly, I was distracted by how bad the actual evil plan was in chapter 18, when the whole murder ball thing was first brought up. Still, un petit mistake on my part.
Anyway, after the characters keep on telling each other and the audience that they don't think De Vauban will attempt anything at his own party but they should keep an eye out anyway, I can pretty much guarantee you that De Vauban will attempt something at his own party.
Johnny ends the scene by almost telling Burke what he did but stopping himself for some reason, then leaving abruptly, because he's a shitty friend. Burke then muses to himself in a big ol' paragraph about how there's a lot of danger afoot right now and he needs to focus on his duties, and I frankly don't feel like recapping all that because it's just him telling himself not to dwell on his paaaaaain – which I already didn't feel like recapping. Not after chapter 19.
After deciding to stop being so taken with Anemone's charms, Burke goes inside, sees his lady love in her ball gown, and is immediately taken with her charms again. Her glitzy outfit is described in way more detail than I care about, then I laughed very hard because Burke thinks about how he wishes he could stare at her boobs. No, seriously.
He wanted to kiss those soft, enchanting rose-peach lips, to trace his thumb along the slender column of her throat, to stare at and cup the nearly indecent amount of creamy white bosom which rose temptingly above the sequined bodice of that shimmering gown.
I'd love to voice some kind of critique about how their lurve for each other is clearly based at least 96% on hormones, but all that comes out when I try is laughter.
So after Burke almost mouths 'BOOBS' at his lady love, he collects himself and tells her to get ready to leave as he goes to get dressed. Anemone watches him go, and laments her urge to fling herself into his beefy arms and the disappointment she feels because he didn't drape his manly form over her. I'm lamenting it too, given that she still doesn't know he didn't seduce her for her intel (I know he planned to do exactly that, and the book also knows, but we were told he changed his mind completely the first time
Anyway, once Burke reemerges in his own glitzy outfit and Sea Urchin has her moment of lament, she shows him a fancy invitation De Vauban sent them to his ball, with a flirty message for Anemone written on the back. Anemone discusses the whole married couple ruse with Burke, during which he grabs her arm – because of course – when she alludes to the conflict between the two of them. He then asks if Anemone is ready to seduce De Vauban for intel.
Naturally, Sea Urchin is outraged, then reminds herself that Burke basically thinks she did the same thing to him BECAUSE SHE SAID SO. Instead of acknowledging that she kind of had this line coming after that, she just gets angrier at that thought and decides to pour lemon juice into the paper cut on Burke's heart (true love, everyone). So what she says is that the tactic worked on him before.
Burke reacts to that line in his usual manner, by freaking me the fuck out.
Pure cold fury sparked in his eyes, giving them a chilling, satanic quality. His face had the look of a murderer.
Romance!
So after we get our canon confirmation that Burke is indeed the spawn of Satan himself, we get a glorious description fail.
"So you did." His soft voice flayed her like a velvet lash.
I'm letting that gem speak for itself because I already made a Clive Barker joke in chapter 16.
Anyway, what Burke has to say wipes the smile off my face, because he tells Anemone that he was a "gentle conquest" (SURE, JAN), but De Vauban likes to play rough. Anemone informs him that she's sure she'll enjoy it more than whatever Burke did with her in bed (again, it's fun seeing these loving lovers bitch and snipe at each other for no fucking reason, and by fun I mean more irritating than sitting in a nettle patch), and Burke gets angry. Try not to faint from surprise when I say this, but he grabs Anemone and refuses to let her go, then he tells her that he knows she enjoyed herself with him. And then there's another description fail... in the dialogue.
"I know when a woman feels the need and want of a man, Anemone – as you did on the Sea Lion – as you would right now if I should but kiss you the way you liked so well, the way that made your eyes go all smoke and silver..."
Who talks like that?!
Anyway, Burke decides to make Anemone's eyes go all smoke and silver right now (that's totally how I'll be referring to kissing from now on), despite her obvious alarm and her repeatedly telling him to let go of her. Sigh. And so they make out for a paragraph – well, I shouldn't call it that, Burke basically mouth-assaults her but she ends up being into it, because of course.
Her soft mouth gave way, welcoming him, as she whispered a moan of pleasure.
Pardon me, how do you whisper a moan? While kissing?
Anyway, Burke abruptly lets Anemone go soon after that description fail makes her display her epic ventriloquist skills, and says he proved his point that she enjoys his attentions. Sigh. Of course, Anemone is furious and humiliated, and of course, she can't do a damn thing to him – this time, it's the narrative that restrains her, by making her remember that they were supposed to get ready for De Vauban's ball before they got distracted by Buffalo Burke's debate tactics. Burke insults Anemone again as she goes to the bedroom to straighten her outfit, and her anger at him turns into her thinking about how shaken she is. Romance!
Stephen had destroyed her again. She felt ill.
So do I, Sea Urchin. So do I.
Burke also feels upset by what he just did to her, and frankly, I have a limited supply of fucks to give, so I shan't waste one on the ouchie on his soul. Nor do I particularly care about the two loving lovers angsting for the rest of the chapter, all the way to De Vauban's... plantation. Oh, dear.
(I'm not touching that one any further, on account of me being from Europe and being so white I glow in the dark; I think it's not exactly my place to speak about how racism is portrayed or not portrayed in historical romances set in America. But it is there to make us all very uncomfortable. I know that a plantation in a Southern state isn't uncommon for the setting of this book, and at least De Vauban's a villain rather than a heroic character, but still.)
Anemone finally wraps up her wangst session by forcing herself to only think about her spy duties tonight, and when he looks at her just before they go in, Burke has the sudden, protective urge to tell her to be careful – which could be a very powerful romance moment, if it didn't come on the heels of the fuckery we just witnessed. As it stands, my fuck supplies are still running too low for me to give one about that. They enter the house, and the chapter ends.
I would say that my patience has ended too, but don't worry, dear readers, I'm still going strong. While I think I recall that things will get slightly less hilaribad than they were in my favorite chapters (y'all probably know which ones I mean), there's still plenty of fail left in here to pass around and marvel at. Stay tuned for the next recap, because it's happening soon!
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