“If the mind is desperate to convey a thought, that thought will not be ignored.”
I’m a big fan of T.J. Alexander’s romances, not only for their lyrical writing and frequent trans protagonists, but also for how skilled they are at getting me to root for that happy ending. Their latest book, A Lady for All Seasons, is officially my favorite. It’s a sequel to their first Regency romance, A Gentleman’s Gentleman, but you won’t be lost if you start here.
Verbena Montrose, who collects gossip as if it were currency, is in search of a husband to help her family’s financial woes. When her friend Etienne has his heart broken by another man, his reputation is at stake. To solve both of their problems, Verbena proposes the two of them marry. Unfortunately, this only draws more attention to Etienne when Flora Witcombe publishes a poem spreading gossip about the pair. When Verbena confronts her, Flora becomes enamored—and thus, so does the mystery novelist William Forsyth, as he and Flora happen to be one and the same. With Verbena now developing feelings for what she assumes to be two people, her commitment to a pragmatic solution gets tested.
Also, Lord Byron is there.
This web of relationships, and the way the characters tangle themselves up deeper in misunderstandings, is at first riotously funny and then brimming with mutual yearning. I know many readers are sick of miscommunication in romance, but this story proves how it can be used to great effect, complicating situations in a way that makes sense for the characters and setting. The dramatic irony is palpable, with every scene developing layers of subtext. The characters fall fast and hard, but they tangle themselves up in so many assumptions and reservations—owing in large part to their society’s norms—that a slow-burn develops.
One interesting running theme is Flora/William’s writing, as it is an expression of the character’s nonbinary nature. In this setting, poetry is considered the domain of men and thus given more respect than novels, which are associated with women and thus seen as tawdry. However, it is as Flora that she can give voice to her poetry, and as William that he publishes his mysteries. Verbena’s varied reactions to both types of writing demonstrate her deepening understanding of her love interest.
Flora/William’s fluid relationship to gender develops throughout the book in a way that felt affirming without straying too much from the terminology of the time period. I love characters who demonstrate how expansive the gender spectrum is, as well as how specific it is to different cultures and time periods. With the times we’re living in, there’s something comforting about reading trans characters not only find love and joy, but find it in a time where they don’t even have our language for their experiences.
Of course, a happy ending is mandatory for the genre, and with queer historical romance there’s always the interesting question of what form it will take. In this case, the ending felt convenient enough to strain my suspension of disbelief. However, I was so happy for the characters that that didn’t put too much of a damper on the catharsis. I recommend this to anyone who could use a little joy.
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