I haven’t watched the Netflix adaptations of the Bridgerton novels yet. I want to read the series first (books do tend to be better than their screen adaptations). I gave Julia Quinn’s The Duke and I a quick squizz before adding it to the family library returns pile – in other words, the stack of books on my little bookcase step ladder – and I have very mixed feelings about it, unfortunately leaning more toward the sort that leaves a bad taste in the mouth.

We’ll start with the lightest of offences, shall we? (Yes, I do feel a little like Miss Whistledown writing this review. If there’s anything this book has done exceptionally well, it’s the mysterious gossiper Miss Whistledown. The characters, overall, were really well crafted and the personalities each have a chance to come through in some way, making interactions and dialogue the best parts of this book.)

While the world of Bridgerton is set in real life, there is so little landscape and scenery description that I struggled to get an idea of the world they live in. What are these balls and soirees like? How are the rooms decked out? Do we have notable changes in drapes or tableware or runners or anything to signify the host’s wealth, or perhaps their desperate attempts to seem wealthy? What of the guests – how do the Mamas look amid their crusades to find the best husbands for their marriageable daughters? Are they dressing to impress? Is their dress style reflected in their daughters’ ensembles? How bad are the dress colours? We get a mention of Penelope looking pitifully bad in peach, but are there others who have just as bad a wardrobe? Are there some girls who look like they are dressed far too old for their years? So little is given to the reader, and even I couldn’t quite picture things as vividly as I’d hoped. If there could be a few more details here and there to bring the landscape to life, I feel I would have enjoyed the book far more.

I know this is subjective, but I do feel that the number of sex scenes in this book could have been cut back by a few. Not completely as a few key character details are linked to these scenes, and without them, we wouldn’t have the conflict points we do, but these scenes can certainly be reduced or at least shortened. I don’t find these scenes interesting in general, the only reason I feel there is some significance to these scenes in The Duke and I is because of Simon’s past and Daphne’s future goals.

Talking about Simon and Daphne, I feel that while their chemistry is great, everything feels rushed. I’m not talking about the whole “they did something in public and now they have to marry” rush, I’m talking about the general timeframe here. There is so little lead-up to their meeting, which is not a bad thing, necessarily, but with there also being so little time actively shared between the two of them in their courting phase the characters come across as weaker than they could be. Seeing the characters for who they are before the marriage is something that would have made the genuine feelings between the two feel a lot more authentic and believable for the pace of the book. I would have loved to see Simon and Daphne trying to become friends while Anthony plays the exasperated best friend and older brother. I would have loved to see more moments between them during family outings or at parties to prove the mutual feelings between the two because that would then have played well with the emotional conflict of the marriage.

My biggest grievance with this book is more than just a subjective dislike. When I read it, I had a visceral reaction because I couldn’t believe what had just occurred, and then I was even more furious when the action was skipped over with no repercussions or conversation. I’m talking about that sex scene. I will note that I haven’t read other reviews for The Duke and I, so I don’t know how other readers took this scene. All I know is that the scene is a problem. Is this not sexual assault? Is this not a misuse of power? Where was the consent? Are we really going to brush over this because Simon is the victim and not Daphne? Simon, who told Daphne he didn’t want children and who had been taking actions to limit the chances of conception? Are we meant to look at Daphne’s actions and say they are a simple misunderstanding? An accident? That they didn’t do any harm? I didn’t mind Daphne as a character before this scene, but I haven’t been able to see her as anything less than a selfish, ignorant, horrible woman since.

I hope The Viscount Who Loved Me is completely different to The Duke and I because I am only picking it up to see if season two of Bridgerton is worth it at this stage. I don’t know how I will feel about watching season one. Maybe I can skip the scene when it comes up later in the season? If you’ve seen the show (and at this stage I’m probably the only one who hasn’t), please let me know if the scene is as bad on screen as in the book.