I blame myself. My disappointment with this book is partially my fault. I just set the bar too high. I built up my own hype. I gave myself unrealistic standards for this book. 
 I've resisted reading this novella since it was released, despite reading all the glowing reviews on it. I thought for sure it would be good, and that I would love it if I ever gained the courage to read it. Why? Because of the premise. The rape, the defilement of an innocent governess? Her strength in standing up for herself? Her bravery in seeking justice against a powerful duke? The David vs. Goliath battle of one powerless, wronged woman against a powerful peer? 
 Before reading this book, I thought I knew for sure that this book would break me. It would turn me into a sobbing, blubbering mess. I would feel so much empathy and pain on the heroine's behalf that I would not be able to bear it. That is why, for the longest time, I absolutely refused to read this book. As for how good it would be...well, fuck yeah I thought it was going to be good. It's Courtney Milan, after all. 
 Wrong. Ambiguous is our word of the day. 
 It wasn't good. It was not on par with her other works that I loved. It was boring. Dull. Anticlimactic. I did not shed a single tear. I didn't feel anything. And coming from me, that's saying something, particularly when it comes to this subject. I hate sexual violence. I abhor it. It is deplorable, unforgivable, and I hate any man who dares to sexually abuse a woman. My friend and I both agree on that matter, and I think Cory's review is a pretty good reflection of my feelings towards this book. 
 The subject of sexual abuse was my reason for avoiding this book, and it seemed as if I worried over nothing. The way in which the subject of the rape/not rape matter was approached in this book was so ambiguous, my feelings remained largely unprovoked but for the constant twinges of absolute confusion. 
 The premise of this book was simple enough: Serena Barton is a former governess, who is seeking vengeance for a wrong done to her by the Duke of Clermont. The trouble is that the whole fucking thing was a poorly organized mess. Serena came off as more of a brainless woman, naive, and stubborn to the extreme, rather than one who is strong, and brave. 
 There is a difference between stubbornness and bravery. Bravery requires you to know what the fuck you're getting into. Bravery requires intelligence, a plan of execution, both qualities that our not-so-intrepid heroine, Serena, lacks. 
 Serena is stubborn. Serena does not think things through. Serena's plan to get justice for herself and her unborn child runs somewhere along the line of "I SHALL SIT ON THE BENCH IN FRONT OF THE DUKE'S HOUSE FOR MONTHS AT A TIME, IN THE RAIN, IN THE COLD, UNTIL SOMEONE ASKS ME WHAT'S GOING ON, AND THEN I SHALL NOT GIVE A STRAIGHT ANSWER BECAUSE IT'S BETTER TO KEEP PEOPLE GUESSING BECAUSE THAT'S HOW GOSSIP WORKS AMONG THE TON." 
 What. The. Fuck? 
 Seriously. For the majority of the novella, I didn't know what the fuck Serena was hiding. She is so fucking vague. She doesn't let anyone knows what's going on. She doesn't answer any fucking questions as to what the Duke has done to her. She wants to keep people guessing. She kept ME guessing. And I lost my fucking patience. For a heroine who might have been raped. It's so wrong, and yet, I can't bring myself to fucking care because by this point, Serena has gotten on my nerves so damn much with her "Pish, posh, I shall keep my fucking secrets to myself because you are not fucking worthy" attitude. 
 "I believe none of it, not without proof. Tell me what really happened, Miss Barton, and perhaps I can help." 
 "I'm sorry, Mr. Marshall," she said. "I really will not say." 
 ARG. TELL. ME. NOW. 
 There are almost no details as to the actual rape, and Serena kept the event so cryptic and inconclusive that her response just undermines the actual abuse. 
 "No." Her voice broke on the word, but she did not look down. "He did not force me." 
 I let him do it. 
 I understand that there is always a quality of self-censure, of self-blaming in the case of rape, when a woman has been the victim of sexual violence. She sometimes blames herself. If only I had done this. If only I had done that. I understand that perfectly, but the way that this book portrayed Serena's attitude made it seem less like self-blaming than a woman who doesn't know exactly what the hell is going on, who's just seeking vengeance because she feels that maybe, possibly, perhaps, she should seek reparation for an act that perhaps she didn't like, than that of a victim. I don't know if I'm explaining myself well here. 
 Serena doesn't even realize that there was a wrong done to her, despite the fact that something wrong has been done to her. But if she doesn't think she was wronged, why does she seek justification? 
 As for vengeance? What vengeance? Serena doesn't know what the fuck she wants. She wants some obscure idea of "vengeance" rather than a woman who is bent on getting justice. Serena is wishy-washy. She is pitiable, rather than admirable. She doesn't know what she wants out of this, and I was frustrated at her lack of will, her lack of decisiveness; she is everything that is obstinate, and she wants nothing exact. 
 I don't get it. The premise could have been executed so much more powerfully. Instead, Serena's very ambiguous rape was approached in such a way that I, the reader, was left shaking her head in confusion rather than rooting for her. The writing was good, but the characters were unbelievable, the premise poorly executed, and I feel so very let down by an author that I admire.