When You Wish upon a Rogue

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the ‘feisty bluestocking meets rakish lord’ premise—until about 10 minutes in, when Sophie Kendall started debating political economy *while* flirting, and I realized Anna Bennett was playing a different game entirely. This isn’t a romance where the heroine’s intelligence is a quirky accessory; it’s the *core* of the conflict. Sophie and Alistair’s dynamic thrives on their ideological sparring, and Bennett writes dialogue so snappy you’ll rewind just to catch the zingers. (Sample exchange: *“You’re insufferable.”* *“And yet, here you are, suffering me gladly.”*) Beverley A. Crick’s narration is a masterclass in tonal range. She nails Sophie’s dry wit—think Emma Woodhouse if she’d read Mary Wollstonecraft—but where she *really* shines is in the emotional beats. The scene where Sophie’s voice cracks mid-sentence, betraying her vulnerability, gave me chills. My only critique? The pacing drags slightly in the middle during a subplot involving Sophie’s friends; their diary entries (read as epistolary asides) feel tonally jarring next to the main story’s razor focus. And while Crick’s male voices are impressive, Alistair’s lower register occasionally verges on *too* gravelly, making some lines harder to parse. Still, the audiobook’s production is polished, with seamless transitions between narration and dialogue. What won me over? The unapologetic feminism woven into the romance. Sophie’s not just ‘bookish’—she’s *ambitious*, and the story treats her goals (opening a school for girls) with the same weight as the love plot. When Alistair finally grovels, it’s not for hurting her feelings; it’s for dismissing her intellect. That’s the kind of rogue I can get behind.