Lady Margaret Wentworth is in a financial bind. Her brother Gerald, a duke and officer with Wellington’s forces, was killed saving the life of a friend. His title and estates were entailed on a distant cousin. He left his townhouse to her, but her only income is a small inheritance from her mother. This is insufficient to pay her expenses including the salaries of the large household staff she feels she must retain because of their years of loyal service to the family.

Her brother had secretly written articles for a newspaper under the pseudonym G. W. Clark. In order to supplement her meager income, Maggie has continued his career. Her articles are in the nature of exposés. She visits establishments such as gambling hells to reveal their inner workings. A social visit from the madam of a brothel, an acquaintance of her late brother, has resulted in her presence at the brothel to interview the prostitutes for her next article.

James Huttledon, Lord Ramsey, promised his dying friend Gerald that he would take care of his sister. When James returns to England, he hires an investigator to inquire into Maggie’s circumstances. She seems to live too well for her straitened circumstances. The investigator determines that she is the mysterious Lady X, a prostitute who is rumored to be a lady of high status. James goes to the brothel and sees Maggie leaving Lady X’s room. He throws her over his shoulder and abducts her.

He conveys Maggie to his country estate. He informs her that her career choice is unacceptable and she must find something else. Maggie, of course, believes that he means her career as a journalist. She and James talk at cross-purposes, never using the words that would quickly clear up the misunderstanding.

Maggie chafes at being held against her will at James’s estate. She tries to escape with absurd consequences. James finds that in spite of her profession he is strongly attracted to Maggie. Maggie, against her will, finds him equally appealing. It isn’t until passion overwhelms them at the same time James’s aunt arrives unexpectedly that the truth is revealed: Maggie is G. W. Clark, not the infamous Lady X.

But their problems aren’t over. Just as Maggie is ready to accept James’s apology, someone seems to be trying to kill her.

Although ostensibly set in the Regency era, this is the Regency with a heavy dose of slapstick. The supposedly intelligent heroine comes dangerously close to TSTL (too stupid to live) territory as she stumbles and bumbles around and gets into all kinds of messes - the type of character the late Lucille Ball played to perfection. Physical comedy often doesn’t translate well to the printed page, and several episodes which are obviously intended to be humorous fall short of their mark including Maggie’s brief attempt at escape. Even the first romantic encounter between Maggie and James parody exceeds passion as Maggie ends up with her hand in spilled ink and James with an inky handprint on the front of his pants.

In the second half of the book, the story develops Gothic novel overtones, and Maggie, in classic fashion, absolutely cannot stop running off by herself into dangerous situations. Even when she finally accepts that all the incidents are not accidents and that someone really is trying to kill her and when James insists she stay safe at home, does she? What needs some reforming is Maggie’s common sense.

James is slightly more realistic to the time period than Maggie, but he’s not as appealing even if he is more sensible. Maggie’s attraction to him is as mysterious as the identity of Lady X. Romance doesn’t work unless the hero and heroine are right for each other. This is the guy who abducted her, held her against her will, dragged her back when she tried to escape. If that weren’t enough, he’s a pompous stick full of hypocrisy and self-righteousness. Even so, they’re soon wrapped in each other’s arms. Is this the best she can do?

Readers familiar with the period will notice some glaring errors and anachronisms. The heroine says, “Okay,” an American expression dating from the mid-nineteenth century. As the daughter of a duke, she’s Lady Margaret Wentworth, but she’s sometimes improperly addressed by the noble hero, who should know better, as “Lady Wentworth.” With the rigid social structure of the Regency period, a social visit to the daughter and sister of dukes by a brothel madam would be utterly impossible. The final scene is over-the-top farce whatever the time period. At no place in the book did I feel as though I was glimpsing a slice of Regency life.

The Reluctant Reformer suffers from gaps in logic and an inaccurate representation of its time period. Those readers who don’t care much about plausibility and like their romance light - very light - might find it of interest, but I would advise most readers to think twice.

--Lesley Dunlap