One and a half stars, rounding up to two. I couldn't in good conscience lump it with the other one star romances I've read lately, as their protagonists were awful people and these aren't, and I quite enjoyed some of the characters, especially the supportive friends. The prose, however, is appalling. There were times I winced at every page. I understand that historical fiction authors may want to use old-fashioned language, but this is ludicrously over-the-top. I can't see Jane Austen coming up with phrases like "Doesn't do to get so foxed at your own betrothal ball, Barkworth. One would think you didn't want to marry the gel." Yes, "gel" - and not used by an unpleasant maiden aunt, but the hero and his friends. I don't know whether it's better or worse than their other favourite phrase, "bits of muslin," used (entirely too often) to refer to young women. Pick a page, any page, and this horrible prose is entirely too apparent: "Poor chit. Probably took a wigging the entire way."

It's all just desperately clumsy. Less is more, please.