When the Rake Shouldn't Be Excused

I'm a big fan of novellas; romance novelist Tessa Dare has written three, two of which I quite like:

• The Scandalous, Dissolute, No-Good Mr. Wright
• Beauty and the Blacksmith 

The third, Lord Dashwood Missed Out, is well-constructed with an entertaining subplot. However, it resolves on a premise that I find troubling since it blurs the distinction between behavior and intent.

Behavior versus intent is an important element in romance novels (not to mention murder mysteries). Darcy's behavior is a result of his beliefs; it is also, occasionally, at odds with his intent.

When Darcy convinces Bingley not to pursue Jane, he is acting on his beliefs. When he insults Elizabeth during his first wedding proposal, he is also acting in accordance with his beliefs. When he visits Longbourn at the end of the novel and never gets around to speaking to Elizabeth, he is acting at odds with his intent.

Likewise, when Elizabeth refuses to dance with Darcy and later refuses him, she is acting in accordance with her beliefs. When she loses her nerve at Pemberley and claims she wants to leave, she is acting at odds with her intent.

Bad behavior can be fixed since people can change what they believe (to an extent). Darcy can realize that he can't control Bingley's life and stop (mostly); Elizabeth can realize that she misjudged Darcy's character and reread his letter.

People can also alter how they act regarding intent. They can--however awkwardly--attempt to bring their behavior in line with their intent, at least long enough to communicate their true desires.

The ability to (1) change; (2) to recognize one's true wishes, both lie at the back of all good romances. And they explain why "rake redeemed" novels within the romance genre can be quite successful. A Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas is an excellent example of a hero-rake whose change in behavior leads to a change in beliefs which leads to a further change in behavior as he recognizes what he truly wants (acknowledges his true intent).

Likewise, Heyer's These Old Shades (see above image from Goodreads) focuses on an aging hero-rake who doesn't change his behavior substantially (why should he? Leonie loves him the way he is) but is redeemed by recognition of his intent. As far as he can, he brings his intent in line with his behavior. (For one, his revenge against the villain could have been a great deal worse.)

Loretta Chase's various adorable (and highly amusing) scoundrels are redeemed in part due to their resolve to alter their behavior (slightly) but mostly due to the recognition that their intent needs to be brought in line with their behavior. Sulking on the moor like Heathcliff communicates absolutely nothing--so why do it? (Chase's Scoundrel in Love is one of the most amusing examples of angst giving way to rueful maturity.) 

To a large extent, romance writers recognize these distinctions within romance heroes and heroines--a great deal of rake behavior in romance is shorthand for transformation.

Hogarth's The Rake's Progress

Problems arise, however, when intent gets substituted for behavior.

In Lord Dashwood Missed Out, Lord Dashwood "lied [a]bout a few things. Not everything. But [he] did pay off the coachman. Well, both coachmen. And the innkeeper in Canterbury. And the bridge was never out, the hitch was fine."

There is, granted, a certain amount of humor in this confession, and some readers may decide to overlook the excessive lying for the sake of the clever denouement (which is a perfectly acceptable response, especially since Nora is more than capable of handling her lying husband-to-be). Deciding when the line has been crossed is a matter of personal preference; romances are all about negotiations--for characters, readers, and authors.

For me, Lord Dashwood crosses the line; however well-meant his lies, his actual behavior is atrocious: he pays off servants, leaves a carriage lying in a ditch, drags a woman across a field to a tiny hut, compromises her reputation, and causes her to nearly miss her appointment in Spindle Cove. The things he does are the problem, not what he says or doesn't say.  Or for that matter, what he means or doesn't mean.

Intent--however supposedly virtuous--is not enough to excuse/override actual bad behavior. Take a romance trope (less common than often supposed): stalking. Intent-wise, the villain stalks because he wants to control the heroine while the hero stalks because he admires her: since their intent is different, their morality must be different!

In reality (and in the better romances), the hero's intent is irrelevant. Stalking is bad behavior. End of story.

Any real-life heroine who isn't an idiot will reject such behavior and therefore the man, rather than ignore the bad behavior because so much good intent is floating about. In literature, extreme bad behavior is only repaired/overcome by the hero dying, nearly dying, or going blind.

In sum: in romances, behavior almost always takes precedence over intent. And romances are far less prone to "women love bad guys" than the cliche insists.