TW: Dead birds, alcoholism, death of infants at birth, spousal abuse

I came here looking for an amazing story and Bitches, I was not disappointed. Even during a time when I have an attention span of about five seconds, this book kept me reading. It up-ended tropes, subverted expectations, and, thanks to the Author’s Note, gave me a seriously happy historical fix. The romance itself combines some actual realities with a big dose of crumbling seaside cliffs and amazing dresses, which I am so here for, and found family is a huge part of the story.

The plot is as follows. Seraphina Arden refuses to be called a fallen woman. She is a Rakess, and through her writing, her speeches, and her efforts to start an institute “for the advancement and education of the female sex,” she seeks to promote rights for women throughout England. Seraphina holes up in her family’s abandoned house in Cornwall so she can finish writing her memoirs, but the memories are so painful that she finds it hard to progress.

Meanwhile, widower Adam Anderson, Scottish father of two, is an architect who is finishing a project in Cornwall while trying to land bigger projects. Adam is no prude, but he has a personal reason for having avoided intercourse since his wife died, and he equates sex with, if not love, at least with mutual respect and possible friendship.

So when he and Seraphina start a liaison, he can’t help but feel a fondness for Seraphina and to her utter dismay her own heart begins to open up. It’s not opening up literally, but it probably feels like it is, because for Seraphina to love again means confronting all the losses she’s experienced in the past and confronting her terrible coping mechanisms. Meanwhile, Adam is already on board with women’s rights, but he also has a career that demands patronage from conservative clients who think Seraphina is a Jezebel from Hell. OMG, so much external and internal conflict.

One of the many things I admired about this book was the balance between trauma and happy times. I’ve read several romances in a row that tried to deal with trauma and conflict, and they did a great job until it was time for the happy ending which by then felt unrealistic. This book involves serious trauma and real, believable, conflict. However, the book takes time to ensure that the characters are able to grow through the trauma in a realistic way, so that by the time they get together they are in a more stable place organically and not because we have suddenly reached the end of the book. Also, the characters spend time together being relaxed and happy. They aren’t always fighting or having sex. Those relaxed moments are what really allow the reader to invest in them as a couple despite their believable conflicts.

As is often the case in romances that I love, the core of the story is friendship and found family, Adam, who is illegitimate, argues with Mayhew, his brother-in-law and business partner, and is close to his sister, Marianne, who lives with him and helps with the children. Seraphina finds purpose, affection, and love in her found family, which she describes in her memoirs:

I was the Cornish miner’s ruined daughter, correcting Jack Willow’s circular by day and bedding philosophers by night. Cornelia was Elinor’s niece, cast out by her aristocratic family when her relations with her painting tutor proved more than educational. And Thais was a lady of the night who had come to Elinor seeking donations for girls forced into prostitution.

Elinor made daughters of us. She taught us that family could be hewn from love rather than blood…

…She insisted on a principle that our biographies had heretofore contested: that we mattered. That girls – even so-called ruined ones – were not a thing that could be thrown away.

There’s just no way that I’m not going to be excited about a book that involves a community of women who learn that they have value and help other women so do the same, and the book describes this community with beautiful language, warmth, and humor. I appreciated that the success of the romance depends very much on Adam’s comfort level with these women and their assessment of him, just as Seraphina has to show that she can be a good parent to Adam’s children and friend to his sister for him to commit to her.

The Author’s Note refers to one of my favorite non-fiction books, Romantic Outlaws, which is about two of my favorite women, Mary Shelley and Mary Wollstonecraft. The author explains that The Rakess, while not the story of Mary Wollstonecraft, is inspired by her. I will not tell you how the book ends except yes, there is a HEA, and it does not sell out the ideals of the Romantic Outlaws, and I actually shrieked with joy about it.

This book is refreshing in how it stays true to many of the qualities I love in historical romance (lots of sex, fabulous clothes, gorgeous scenery, phsical and emotional passion) while it challenges other common romantic tropes by making the woman the “Rake” figure and by examining what a happy ending might look like to a woman dedicated to women’s rights in 1797. It’s not perfect. Seraphina and Adam spend much of the book apart, and one particular conflict is a bit rushed in its resolution, which is all the more surprising since the other conflicts are dealt with so well. However, I can’t remember the last time a historical made me so happy. My personal attachment to the women’s rights leaders of the 1700’s and 1800’s made the happy resolution even more touching.

I haven’t been this excited about a historical in ages and I am eagerly waiting for the next installment in this series. The combination of personal catnip with descriptive language and complex characterization is spot on. I recommend this for fans of vocal feminism, found family, angst, and explicit sex in their historicals. I plan to read my copy many, many times!