I rather enjoy fantastical novels in a historical setting. Despite a complete absence of supernatural elements, I see books like these as wish-fulfillment stories, filled with imaginative attitudes and outcomes in outlandish clothes and possibly castles. They could not be more fantastical if unicorns started flying out of everyone’s butt. At their best they are smart, funny, and comforting. Sometimes, I just can’t get enough of this type of fantasy, and Love is a Rogue is a very well done example of this kind of romance.

Behold the plot. Lady Beatrice Bently has no intention of marrying. She wants to be left alone to work on her etymological dictionary. However, her mother bullies her into one more year on the marriage market, in trade for one summer in Cornwall during which Beatrice can get some work done. Alas, the mansion in which she stays that summer is being renovated by Stamford Wright, a Navy carpenter, and Beatrice can’t get anything done because he’s so loud. Also, because she can’t stop staring at him.

After summer ends and Lady Beatrice goes back to the big city, she finds out that she has inherited a bookstore which needs renovation – enter Wright, the noisy carpenter, who naturally can’t stop looking at Beatrice. Beatrice’s friends, a group of unconventional women, play matchmaker. Beatrice and Wright know that they can’t end up together because of their social stations etc…but they can make out a little bit, right? What could go wrong?

Well, what could go wrong from a reader’s point of view is that the resolution is rushed and improbable, involving two different sets of angry parents being pacified with startling ease. I’ve stayed mad for longer at people who took the parking space I wanted.

The villains are cartoonish. The rival for Beatrice’s hand, who barely appears on page, is revealed to have “ruined” many working class women. The evil factory developer trying to swindle Beatrice out of the bookstore practically snarls, “I would have got away with it if it weren’t for you meddling kids!” Coincidences abound, and tea solves everything.

OK, the last part I believed. Tea really is amazing.

However, I have to admit that I enjoyed this book. The characters are sympathetic and pleasant to be around. The story is sexy and funny. The romance is well-developed, with both parties establishing mutual respect, friendship, and appreciation for qualities that are underrated by others.

And the nerdery is delightful. Since Beatrice is an etymologist, she and Wright flirt with great vocabulary. The bookstore porn is both figurative, as in: I’d like to run a bookstore with a cook who brings me tea, and literal:

The story is also great fun. There’s a theme of found family and friendship being magic. There’s just no way I’m not going to be interested in a series about an etymologist and her best friends: a legal student (she pretends to be male in school), a composer (she submits her work under a male nom de plume), a chemist, and a spy. These women call themselves a knitting society but they do not knit – and in my opinion this is a shame as knitting is almost as magical as tea.

The truth is, I know that many of us, for various reasons, are in mental states where only the silly thing will do. I’m doing a challenge in which every day I read one chapter of War and Peace, yes, the one by Tolstoy. As it turns out, War and Peace is freaking awesome. It has a good reputation for a reason. But it can’t get me through a day when I’ve read too many news articles and it can’t get me through a flare up of one of my many physical challenges. If I spend a day indisposed, I guarantee you I won’t be reading War and Peace. I’ll be reading Love is a Rogue or something like it. As a comfort read, I found this book to be heartwarming, funny, and just generally comforting. Rather like a good cup of tea.