I really, really like Theresa Romain’s writing. She does this thing with tiny moments and actions that don’t seem significant until later, when after a few pages they become the type of detail that makes me press my hand to my chest, lest my heart be attempting to slide out through my ribs. Words are not wasted, characters are carefully, finely developed, and there’s a buffet of dialogue, too. An all-you-can-read style buffet of dialogue, with layers of meaning and flavor, and I’ve arrived wearing elastic waist brain-pants.

That got out of hand.

Anyway. Passion Favors the Bold is the second book in a series set around the theft of gold sovereigns that aren’t in circulation yet, and until their circulation date, there’s a hefty reward for their return. This is a situation ripe for treasure hunting young ladies determined to make their own fortunes (because they have none) and have adventure as well – which is how the story opens. Georgette is in the very posh carriage of Lord Hugo Starling after a public and embarrassing scene where Georgette, dressed in boys’ clothing, was interrupted mid-subterfuge by Hugo, who recognized her and was suitably appalled. Hugo doesn’t have much room to talk about suitable anything, as he’s a medical doctor and his family is horrified by his desire to open a public hospital where trained physicians such as himself will treat patients – all the patients, not just the wealthy –  and teach future doctors how to do the same.

I read the first chapter in a recent Live Scream, because the first chapter is SO MUCH FUN I had to share it with the entire internet. I thought about trying to include a bit of it here, and I had to give up because I’d end up retyping the whole thing. The romance between Georgette and Hugo grows line by line through what they say to each other. Georgette teases him, he grumbles at her, she calls him on his body language that betrays what he’s actually feeling, he grumbles and gives away more indication about how he feels about her without meaning to, she gets flustered… it’s luscious.

Georgette wants to go find the gold sovereigns because her 21st birthday marks the end of an arrangement her late parents and her brother made with the owners of a bookshop where she’s lived and worked her entire life. TL;DR: at 21, they’re no longer required to keep her around, and Georgette knows they’d rather have a second lady’s maid than a clerk they have to house, feed, and pay, so she leaves early. If she finds the sovereigns, she gets the reward, and she has some measure of independence.

Hugo wants to bring Georgette to her brother, who is also looking for said sovereigns, because Hugo feels protective and responsible (and there are other things he feels, too) for Georgette. Georgette really would prefer he go away, as she was just fine without him, but she learns quickly enough that having Hugo (who has a very generous monthly allowance) makes the way a good deal smoother, and he’s stubbornly determined to keep her safe.

Georgette eventually convinces Hugo to come with her on her search, but not before she convinces him to allow her, in her current disguise, to accompany him as he attempts – for the third time – to persuade one of the members of a royal medical society to invest in his public hospital. Hugo is reasonably confident that a third repetition of the exact same very sound, very logical, very scientific and very correct argument will get the results he’s after. Georgette knows better, and she intervenes as best she can because her ability to read people and their body language and intentions has been honed with years of shopkeeping and convincing readers and book collectors to spend just a little more.

And seriously, that’s just the first chapter. They verbally spar, they tease each other, and they reveal their conflicts and differences in class, education, worldliness, awareness, social ease, and motivation with dialogue that I couldn’t enjoy fast enough. The slow development and revelation of their fears, their secret hurts and insecurities, and their deepening attraction to one another are all uncovered as they travel first in one direction, then another, chasing the possibility of a reward for the recovery of a few bags of gold.

Eventually they end up at an estate near the coast, far from their original direction, after having posed as a newly married couple at different inns along the journey – which of course compromises their reputations in ways they aren’t quite sure how to handle. I would have thought the estate part would be the end of the adventure, but it kept going: Hugo realizes that the neighboring tenant farmers and their laborers are in need of medical care – which he can provide. Georgette figures out very quickly how to help him while also chasing after the reward, investigating while also dodging a Bow Street Runner who is after the same goal – and who is very suspicious of Hugo and Georgette.

All of this sounds like mere summary of the plot, but there is so much going on beneath the development of each turn in the story. They spend a lot of time alone together, but are very aware of the boundaries of status, class, and propriety that stand between them, though they have to pretend otherwise and convincingly, too, so the people around them believe they’re married. Hugo is extremely cognizant of Georgette’s boundaries, and his own, and his worry about both was endearing. They are accustomed to being alone and having to look after themselves, and are repeatedly surprised by their understanding of one another. They get to know one another’s true selves beneath the expectations and the roles they’ve had to play in life — which I find to be an intoxicating plot line every time I encounter it.

Running beneath all of the mystery and the heist plot, and beneath the developing possibilities between them and between Georgette and that reward she’s after, is the idea of cost. What does chasing the gold cost them? What does their pretend physical intimacy and their genuine emotional intimacy cost them? What is the cost to the community to have or not have a practicing doctor who can help them? What is the cost of tending the land, of hiring workers and possibly taking advantage of them? What is the cost of safety, protection, home, and having enough money to take care of one’s self, one’s family, and one’s children? What is the cost of the truth when you know someone’s pride is endangering people you love?  What is the cost of grief that one cannot get rid of, or move past?

The cost of people’s actions against one another, and of keeping secrets, runs through each development, from the first mention of the stolen sovereigns to the last page. I learned a tremendous amount about how the labor of land is divided and subdivided and who bore the responsibility and cost of that work – and who paid higher prices for their safety.

So why a B, given that I’ve gone over 1000 words talking about all the things I loved? The first 7/8ths of the book are marvelous, but then the mystery is solved, the case is wrapped up, and Hugo and Georgette go their almost-separate ways. I don’t want to give away the details, but the ending seemed so rushed, and so at odds with the rest of the story, it was unsettling. I’m not entirely sure of the security of the ending and the way they work out their differences because barely any time was spent in that world. And when the characters were in that world in the early part of the book (mostly in and around Hugo’s very upper class family in London) the wide distance between their stations created a very sharp, painfully clear distinction. I wasn’t sure how they’d work out those differences in the end of the story – despite all the rushed assurances that it would all be fine. I was left reasoning out the details to myself, unsure how or where they’d find their way securely and happily together. I wanted them to be together; no question, they’re perfect for one another. But enough was made of the differences and boundaries between them that I had a hard time believing they were all so easily solved within the pages those solutions were given.

Rushed and hurried resolutions aside, I still enjoyed so much of this book, and recommend it to anyone who likes thoughtful, character-driven historicals with a bit of mystery and an increasing community of characters not often seen in historicals which surrounds the protagonists. Georgette and Hugo are both moving through grief in different ways and coming to terms with feeling alone most of the time, while discovering that in one another, they’ve found someone who understands the isolation of grief, and the necessity of company who understands that isolation.

In conclusion, I think I’ve found one quote that I can reasonably share that’s not too long, but highlights some of what I’ve been trying to describe:

Theirs was not a noble quest, maybe, but it was more than an errand. Perhaps it was an adventure? How odd that earlier today she had thought Lord Hugo Starling had brought an end to her travels, her plans to secure her own future. Now he was thoroughly part of both.

Odd, indeed. Yet not uncomfortably so.

Not for the first time today they were alone in a carriage, but this time they seemed far more alone than before. The bustle outside made of the clean but spare interior a cocoon. The opposite seat was very close, and Lord Hugo somehow seemed closer still – as though he owned the air around him. Every time Georgette breathed, she borrowed that air, and it traced her face and body, gentle and warm. It was good not to be alone.

It was good to be alone with him.