I’ve decided to do a series of four blog posts chronicling my misadventures reading a piece of cheesy historical romance. Since the book in question (Susan Wiggs’s The Maiden of Ireland) is about 400 pages long, each post will cover roughly 100 pages of the novel. You can view previous entries of here, here, and here.
At this point, they leave London, Cromwell having secured Hawkins’s promise to stop the raids. Seeing as he’s married to the rebel leader now, one assumes this wouldn’t be too hard. Once they reach their castle in Ireland, they celebrate by having sex on the beach. Like, as soon as their feet touch sand. I don’t care how much you love a person, never have sex with them on a beach. You will get sand in all of your sensitive crevices.
Sandy cracks regardless, things are going pretty well for the newlyweds until Hawkins receives a letter telling him to deliver some horses to the English forces stationed nearby. He creeps off to do this secretly, but of course his wife finds out and man, is she one pissed off Irish chick.
Somehow on her way to deliver one hell of an ass kicking, she gets captured and taken to London, her husband being under the impression that he accidentally killed her (OOPS). She gets interrogated by Cromwell, but makes her escape (with her husband’s illegitimate daughter) when Cromwell drinks a poison cup of wine. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t iocane powder, but I can’t be entirely sure.
Meanwhile, her husband is defending the castle against the nearby English forces, when his wife come swooping in to the rescue. The only think I appreciated about this particular sequence was the role reversals. It was refreshing to see the woman rescue the man for once. Of course, the requisite happy ending follows. But then again, I’d honestly be a little disappointed if it didn’t.
Incredibly, one of the parts I found hardest to believe (apart from the language that makes a point of being stereotypically Irish), was that she wasn’t even mad about him not telling her about his daughter. Also, this revelations seems to wipe away all past wrongs. I wish this is how things worked in the real world. I would keep a stable of emergency kids to drag out at the slightest provocation.
That being said, I am never doing this again with such a long book. I love reading and this particular project made me dislike reading. I had to carrot-and-stick my way through the entire thing. I’ll probably do another one though, but with a short sci-fi/fantasy item. Think of Turkey Readings and that’ll be pretty close to my next Trash Day item. But probably not until sometime next year.