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Sylvester by Georgette Heyer

My rating: 3 of 5 stars
Heyer does Pride and Prejudice. She is the outspoken country girl, he is the prideful but goodhearted duke. They rub each other completely the wrong way, but are then thrown together by hilarious circumstance.
Picture my silly grin right now. I have figured out what my deal is with Heyer: the more like The Grand Sophy it is, the happier I am. By which I mean if our leading couple spend most of the novel being witheringly sarcastic at each other, when they aren't cracking each other right up to the annoyance and consternation of all the self-involved/stupid people around them, we're golden. I guess the heroine has to be, um you know. *mumbles* Fiery. Shut up.
This isn't quite as awesome as Sophy -- our heroine here is, um, a little too plot-required dumb, for one. But still. It's a formula, and it works.
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