Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas: Book Review

In an effort to read more popular, oft-recommended books in the historical romance genre and potentially find new authors and books to love, I, of course, had to get to Devil in Winter at some point. This is the book — and the hero — that is so frequently talked about in histrom spaces that I simply had to see what the hype is about. 

It helped that Devil in Winter features one of my favorite tropes: marriage of convenience. It didn’t help that I had already read and disliked another book by this author. So, I was torn and gave myself time until the perfect moment for reading it occurred, when I would be most likely to be forgiving of bad prose and more inclined to swoon over problematic heroes.

And such a time did happen, but the book, unfortunately, still didn’t sit well with me. 

Spoiler-free overview: While I can get behind imperfect, flawed heroes and heroines, I cannot get behind a rushed, unsubstantiated romance. Everything moves quickly. Instead of developing the romance in a way that makes sense for this shy, stuttery heroine and a rake who never stays still for a moment, this book focuses on a ridiculous, drama-filled plot that does nothing for the relationship except perhaps help them trauma-bond? If you want fair warnings about the hero, see the first portion of the review. 

Thoughts and feelings

So, to get it out of the way: yes, Sebastian is an awful man. He kidnaps and threatens to assault his friend’s fiancee for her money in the previous book. He is a lazy aristocrat who likes to sleep around (which, in a historical romance of all things can be forgiven). 

He calls the heroine a b-word to her face, and proceeds to treat her little better than her abusive relatives did — commanding her on what she can or cannot do, where she can or cannot go, under the guise of it being for her own good (and oh how charming, he’s so protective! blah). He starts physical intimacy with her while she’s still asleep (this is her first time, just to be clear). 

He acts like a toddler when she refuses to sleep with him again, doesn’t allow for any friendly contact between the heroine and her male friend, he constantly reminds the heroine that she is his property and he can do with her as he pleases. (but, the narrative insists, he’s a good guy because he would never beat her)

He takes control of her money and properties (which, I guess, given the time, is sort of forgivable? Say what you will about Fitz from Ravishing The Heiress, but he at least did his best to include Millie). His pet names for Evie are “child” and “pet” which is just gross. Plus, he’s overall an annoying, slick, slimy dude who really isn’t everything the reviews promised. 

But fine, whatever. I’ve been reading romance long enough to know that sometimes the heroes just do be like that. Plus, this book was published in 2006, which usually means some level of problematic drivel — the standards for men were, I guess, much lower in the past. My mom, for example, probably wouldn’t blink an eye at him, and at worst would find him charming and redeemable (boys will be boys sentiment is alive and well).  

Older authors, or authors who have been publishing for a long time, do tend to create these men that toe the line of abusive, and then everything is forgiven as long as it doesn’t get physical. For all I know, Sebastian could have been a revelation back when this book first came out, a totally new, enlightened kind of man, for, I guess, compromising with Evie sometimes instead of getting his way all the time. 

So in that context he could have been fine, tolerable even, despite all of his grossness.

However, this book failed to give me a good love story, and that’s its biggest sin. 

Sebastian and Evie first meet in chapter one. Before that they had little contact. All she knows of him is that he’s a terrible rake who kidnapped and tried to assault her best friend (it’s kind of horrible of her to go to him, isn’t it? I would never speak to her again if I was Lillian). All he knows of her is that she’s shy and has a stutter. They never spoke or interacted before, so they’re virtual strangers, bar the kidnapping attempt. 

But almost immediately, Sebastian acts as if he’s in love. He gets worried when Evie almost faints from not eating, he takes off her shoes (which, in my book, is kind of an intimate act for two strangers), he makes sure she’s warm to an excess and that she gets enough sleep. None of this is substantiated by any kind of emotional connection prior to that. It’s just what happens while they’re rushing to Gretna Green. 

You could say he’s trying to keep her alive and well until he gets her inheritance, but it really doesn’t read that way. 

He helps undress her for bathing when she can’t stand, helps her brush her teeth, which is all, once again, a surprising amount of intimacy for chapter two or three. This is the kind of stuff you build up to over time. It’s not what you do for what is essentially your first or second date. 

And then immediately after sleeping together, Sebastian is obsessed. He never felt this way before, he never enjoyed intercourse as much as he did with Evie, even though 1) he’s a rake who slept with half or England and 2) there’s no prior emotional connection here. Evie wasn’t even participating all that much to be honest, so it’s very unclear why he’s suddenly so obsessed. But let’s ascribe this to the more patriarchal worship of virginity of the book release time — fine. 

But then, why does he act the way he does after? He follows Evie like a dog, not letting her breathe at all. The deal is that she gets her freedom and he gets the money, but immediately he backs out on that deal, for no discernible reason. He continues to take care of her, take care of her father even, which is completely out of character. And again, it’s not like him and Evie got to share some sublime emotional connection, deep conversations or whatever — they barely talked about anything at all. So where is this coming from? 

If he were to remain in character — always preferable in fiction — he would have left Evie with her father as she wished and buzzed off with the money, and neither of them would care. That would have made sense.

But no, he turns into this needy, demanding creature that cannot bear not to breathe down Evie’s neck for more than two minutes and needs to feed her, dress her, make sure she sleeps, rests, not a speck of dust falls to her head or god forbid a man looks at her. 

If I were to rewrite this book, while keeping the same characterization, I would have them actually separate as agreed upon their return to London. And then slowly, over time, have both Evie and Sebastian, through small acts of caring and kindness, go from indifference to friendship to love. That’s what the marriage of convenience trope is about, isn’t it? Am I wrong in this? It’s basically a really convenient (hah) way to have the characters in relatively close proximity (whether emotionally, socially or physically) but create enough space and distance for the relationship to develop slowly. 

I talk a lot about Sebastian here, but Evie isn’t much better. 

For one, she marries her best friend’s kidnapper and abuser, which is just an awful thing to do. Yes, I know, she’s desperate, but I’m pretty sure she could have picked anyone, a random man off the street and offered him her fortune for freedom, and it would have been a better deal than this. Instead, she picks this man, the most unsuitable person she could possibly pick. 

But fine, for the purpose of the story, this is the man she picks. 

Then there’s her characterization, which she constantly slips in and out of. She’s meant to be this shy, stuttery, soft heroine who may not be the sassiest, but is kind and warm and lovely. But then her stutter disappears with some vague comment that it goes away around people she’s comfortable with (apparently, Sebastian whom she met two days ago). 

She’s supposed to be incapable of speaking to men, but then she speaks to the most notorious, most handsome rake London has ever seen like it’s no trouble at all. In almost no time, she can even banter with him, offer witty comebacks, be stubborn and oppose him, etcetera. 

She’s so inconsistent that it’s hard to keep track. She’s whatever the plot needs her to be in the moment. 

And Sebastian is inconsistent too. One moment, he’ll take care of Evie like she’s the most precious porcelain doll ever created, but then the next he’d be this awful, uncaring person just so we can get to the next drama.

There are numerous other issues as well, like the slurs, Sebastian saying he would rather kill Evie himself than let her uncles get to her (???), just overall deplorable behavior, the historical inconsistencies, but those are just cherries on top of the awfulness that is this book. 

I really wanted to love this book. After reading and feeling lukewarm for Love in The Afternoon, I thought this might be the one to change my mind. Lisa Kleypas has such a large catalogue that I was eager to be a fan, just so I can have this big backlog at my fingertips, whenever I need something fun and romantic.

But I guess it’s not to be. The prose is not good, the romance is not good, the characters are not good. In the end, there is nothing left for me here, and I’m afraid I have to say goodbye. Perhaps I’ll try another of her books in the future, if I manage to find a slower burn and a more appealing storyline, but I’m in no rush at all. 

Bottom Line

If you’re curious about this book as well, my honest recommendation is to try for yourself. The free sample (about 10% of the book, I think) should give you pretty good insight into what the main characters are like and what you can expect. 

I don’t mean to deter you from it at all. It’s not that I don’t understand why people love this book — problematic, villainous characters who fold in a second when the heroine shows up are popular, after all.

It’s just that I prefer slower development, more character growth, more tender moments and romantic tension rather than rushing to the next physical intimacy scene at all costs. I like to see why the couple works together, how they fit and how their personalities mesh. This book didn’t give me that. But it might be a perfect read for you. I hope you enjoy it far more than I did!

Did you read Devil in Winter? What did you think? Let me know in the comments below and let’s chat!