I was thrilled by the description of this book that said it was the bastard love-child of Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and Robin McKinley. Unfortunately what that means is that the first two thirds of the book are a blatant retelling of Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre, respectively, with a Mary Sue for a main character. And it's all less interesting than I'm making it sound.

None of the characters were engaging. Ivy, who is introduced as an intelligent and observant woman, spends most of her time asking questions about things that are obvious to the reader. Mr. Rafferty's motives are unintelligible, and the references to his family duty are so oblique that the reader is not at all sure why his character changed from one chapter to the next. It seems that Eldyn should be our favorite (despite his gullibility) for his strength in surviving an abusive childhood to take care of his sister, but he seems to overlook the simplest of solutions to his problems in favor of making things worse.

I stopped reading when something that had been a perfectly valid veiled threat was made suddenly graphic, to the benefit of neither the plot nor the characters. I'm surprised I slogged through 80% of the book before realizing that my time could be better spent elsewhere.