When I went to the library to pick up our book club book for March, this was sitting on the shelf above the holds and I immediately recognized Mary Bennet’s name from Pride & Prejudice so this went to the book check-out with me 😀 I don’t read a lot of sapphic romances, but it was Austen and I enjoyed the couple of queer retellings I read last year, so I thought why not give it a go.
McLeod’s premise works really well because it takes place after the Austen story and focuses on two of Austen’s minor characters, Charlotte Lucas and Mary Bennet. There are references back to action in the original—like I 100% forget that not everyone in Austen’s world knew Lydia’s marriage was a patch job, but that comes up at one point and I’m like isn’t this common knowledge?!—but this novel stands alone which is something you need to be successful as an adaptation/sequel.
McLeod’s choice of Mary Bennet and Charlotte Lucas was so smart because they don’t have major impacts on the story, but are divisive either being demonized for their holier than though (Mary) or cut-throat survival instinct (Charlotte) or barely remembering them because they’re 100% forgettable. This gave McLeod so much wiggle room to build out complete personalities and add scenes that fit into the original seamlessly, but stood alone. I’ll also toss in that she gave Anne de Bourgh a personality independent of her mother, which I enjoyed even if it went a little against what felt like the original character.
Mrs Waites put her own biscuit down without so much as taking a bite. ‘I do not believe that James is the marrying type. He and his friend get along very well together.’ She raised an eyebrow.
Charlotte took another biscuit and chewed thoughtfully, ‘Plenty of men wait to marry until later in life when they’ve amassed som wealth or security. A family is not a cheap undertaking, as I understand it.’
‘Of course, ma’am.’ Mrs Waites’ lip curled for a moment and Charlotte had the distinct impression the cook was trying not to laugh, though she couldn’t think what was funny about a young man trying to make his fortune. . . (62)
What I found most interesting about the novel was how true it felt to actual queer lived experience during the time. Austen was writing at the same time Anne Lister, of Gentleman Jack adaptation fame (IMDb link), who kept detailed but coded records of all the women she slept with. There are other historical records of queer groups and people living semi-openly and this felt true to what historical records exist. There were no same-sex marriages, there were no super loud super out people demanding equal rights, there were just people living their lives and finding safety among their own kind and families accepting (begrudgingly or barely) relationships that actually existed.
The story itself was well written and the story kept me engaged. As I was reading, I did realize just how similar the MM romances written by women for women mirrored this story: both characters hem and haw about whether the other one is interested in them and then when something happens, one is all in and the other continues to hem and haw over whether it’s the right thing to do or if the other will want to be with them long term. It really made me laugh because honestly change the names from Charlotte to Charles and Mary to Mark and you’d have a MM romance (not 100% true because of the rest of the story, but basically it’s true).
To hell with it, she decided, and lunged forward. Women were so often described as the softer sex, all curves and coils, but Mary was sharp angels against her, strong fingers digging hard into her hips, eliciting a pleasurable pain. Charlotte kissed back hard enough to feel teeth clack against her own. A thirst, rather than a hunger. A deep and insatiable thirst, scorching up her thighs and pooling in her belly, setting her ablaze in places she had never even known coals could abide. Sensations deluged all thought, rendering the world a blank canvas but for the press of Mary’s mouth, hot against her own, an even hotter tongue swiping over Charlotte’s lower lip. (169)
I knew it would be a happily-for-now, how could it not be, but I wasn’t sure how McLeod would/could get to happily-ever-after, but she did. I thought for sure there would be a marriage of convenience or two and whoever didn’t marry or if they both did, they would just be together when they could, but nope. McLeod introduced quite a few original characters that provided the opportunity for Charlotte Lucas to become independently wealthy which was so well done.
The few times I’ve read a non-mm romance I’ve always been a little reticent when the sex scenes approach, but for the most part this one didn’t bother me as much as some have in the past. A large portion of this has to do with the historical aspect. McLeod didn’t use graphic modern language but instead leaned into euphemisms that weren’t belabored and met the moment and the time period perfectly.
Recommendation: This is one of the better Austen-inspired works that I’ve read recently and if you like Austen and/or sapphic romances, I’d definitely recommend it. McLeod’s continuation of a story so many of us are fond of was well done. In choosing to focus on minor characters as the protagonists, but still having cameos through letter writings of all the iconic and favorite characters from the original, made for an excellent stand-alone novel. I enjoyed this one so much that there’s a very good chance I will read her follow up, The Miseducation of Caroline Bingley.
Opening Line: “After procuring several fervent assurances that his wife would apologize sincerely and deeply for his absence from Rosings that evening, Mr Collins reluctantly died.”
Closing Line: “Words faded until there was nothing left but the breeze, the sky, and the sweet, faint scent of faithful violets.” (Whited out to avoid spoilers, highlight to read.)
