There is a special type of book that I affectionately refer to as the “kettle corn book.” Growing up, there was no food that my stepmom could eat more of than kettle corn. It was simultaneously awing and terrifying how much of it she could put away without thinking about it. A good kettle corn book can be devoured in one sitting without requiring any thought, and has a guaranteed happy ending.
Misty Urban takes the core concepts of a kettle corn book and elevates them delightfully in My Lady Melisende (Oliver Heber Books), the sixth installment in her Ladies Least Likely series. The end result is a romp of a book more complex than many historical romances. Urban confesses the creative liberties she takes with the version of history she presents, and I was more than willing to suspend my disbelief and follow the political drama.
The novel’s titular character, Melisende, is a noblewoman descended from the royalty of the nonfictional-but-fictionalized Merania. Her singular goal is to restore her father’s rule after he was usurped by a jealous brother; she occupies a liminal space of the alluring foreigner, welcome in polite society even as she is heavily critiqued just for her existence. Her foil is Philip Devlin, the sixth son of an Irish baronet who has earned his way into the innermost circles of British society through his work as an informant to the crown. Naturally, they are both stunningly attractive and breathlessly attracted to each other, putting their motives at odds with their desires.
My Lady Melisende toys expertly with tropes, building upon expectations so well that this novel could serve as a defense of romance cliches. The enemies-to-lovers arc between Melisende and Devlin serves as a prime example. Even as feelings blossom, the two never lose sight of their initial concerns. They long for each other with one breath and doubt motives with the second, creating a realistic tension. The anticipation is well earned; their hesitations are forgivable because they are grounded in the fears of the world.
The world itself is carefully constructed, with equal development of political landscape and physical details. The ornate clothes and elaborate balls decorate conversations about the American Revolution. The ever-present fear of Russian conflict constitutes necessary spy work. Some of the mamas of the ton gossip about matchmaking and wealth while others engage actively in diplomatic conflict, a refreshing reflection of the potency of feminine spaces. The author chooses her settings well, whether staging an unmasking at a masquerade or a mystery at a bookshop.
Urban threads the needle, creating intrigue that is predictable without being advertised. I am not using predictable as a derogatory term: for a text whose central genre is historical romance, the non-amorous plot needs to be very intentionally layered so it does not cheat the reader out of a satisfying climax. Urban achieves this in a perfect way, leaving just enough doubt that the reveal is satisfying if foreseen, epiphany-like if not.
My Lady Melisandre was fun — the exact book I needed to combat the dark, cold days of the winter months.
This article was originally published in Little Village’s February 2025 issue.
