The Duke and I

From the first pages of the novel, Quinn introduces the idea that the Bridgertons operate as a cohesive family unit, as Lady Whistledown remarks on their close physical resemble each other. At Lady Danbury’s ball, Daphne and her brothers cheerfully spend time together, trading remarks on their mother’s high expectations for them and obsession with their marriages. Simon is aware of this contrast early on, as he points out to himself, “Anthony had responsibilities Simon had never even dreamed of. He had brothers to guide, sisters to protect. Simon had a dukedom, but Anthony had a family” (140). Simon is thus tolerant of Anthony’s anger at him for courting his sister, recognizing that their friendship does not outrank Anthony’s sense of fraternal responsibility. Simon is also struck by the family’s closeness when he attends dinner at their home, and he throws this fact back on Daphne when he tries to tell her that she knows nothing of his childhood because her own was happy. Anthony proves his sense of family loyalty by committing to dueling Simon even though they are friends, while Colin supports Daphne’s desire to save Simon’s life. The Bridgerton siblings support one another at every opportunity, and their sense of themselves as individuals are deeply informed by their relationships to one another.

Simons estrangement from his father offers a sharp contrast to the Bridgertons, which has consequences for Simon and Daphne’s marriage. The Ninth Duke of Hastings sees his son only as an heir and extension of family legacy, not as a unique person worthy of individualized care and regard. When Simon makes something of himself despite this neglect, his father attempts to disregard the past rather than making amends, assuming that genetic ties are sufficient to form family bonds. Simon’s history has obvious consequences for his marriage: He is not honest with Daphne about his refusal to have children, and when she confronts him and denies him sex, he attempts to force her into subservience. In this moment he is more like his father than he is willing to admit: he considers marriage itself proof that Daphne owes him her body, disregarding her sense of emotional and personal violation. He does not trust Daphne with the truth about himself, and only their separation forces him to realize she is worthy of his confidences. Finally, he reveals his deepest fear: that he would have a disabled child and cause the same harms his father did. Daphne tells him she knows him better than that, and that she would never let such a thing happen, reminding Simon that the family they make together will be their own.

Daphne makes her own inroads to independence from her family, even within the strict limitations her society places on her. When she returns to London from Clyvedon House, she does not confide in Violet or Colin about the state of her marriage, putting Simon’s privacy above her need for comfort. Similarly, when she and Simon return from the park, only to find Daphne’s irate brothers, they stand as a united front demanding their privacy, and Simon assures her that his declaration of love is not for the sake of her family, but out of sincere passion. In the end, Daphne and Simon choose each other honestly. In this way, Quinn emphasizes how the effects of family on identity are a complex combination of accidental and intentional forces.

Much of the tension and conflict in The Duke and I stem from Simon’s childhood trauma at the hands of his father. Even before the Duke rejects his son, Simon’s mother pursues a pregnancy despite knowing it will kill her, because childlessness is unacceptable to a woman of her class. The Duke values his dead wife more than a living one, considering her an “exemplary spouse” for her sacrifice (4). As an older child, Simon discovers that his father has told all of society that he is “dead” rather than explain his disability or acknowledge his existence. At its core, ableism is the belief that nondisabled bodies and minds are superior to disabled ones, and that disabled people do not deserve supports. Quinn has the Duke use ableist slurs about Simon. Specifically and tellingly, he calls Simon a “moron,” a word that originated in the 20th-century eugenics movement, which aimed to prevent people with disabilities from reproducing. In rejecting the idea of having a family himself, Simon internalizes these values to an extent, though his primary motivation for refusing parenthood is because his father would have welcomed it.

In refusing to share anything about his childhood with Daphne, Simon has accepted that his disability is shameful, even as he refuses to let his father’s rejection be the final word on his social prospects. Privately, he reflects that time with Daphne is easier than other social encounters: their rapport is unlike his other relationships, dictated so strongly by stigma. Even Anthony, Simon’s closest friend, knows nothing of the struggles he carries with him.

For all that Daphne violates the boundaries of consent when she pursues sex with Simon while he is inebriated, Simon regards her knowledge of his disability as an even greater sin. Simon has internalized his father’s belief that real men and worthy heirs are nondisabled. Daphne challenges this by forcing him to confront that the real issue is his trauma, particularly when she suggests that his refusal to confront his past has poisoned even their physical intimacy. Simon rejects this, equating Daphne’s presence in his life with the lack of speech because the intensity of their argument makes it difficult for him to speak. He hates any reminder of his disability so much he is prepared to end his marriage over it. He tries to tell Daphne the anger from his past trauma is “all I had” assuming that it is the rejection that has fueled his success (275). Daphne counters this view, insisting that neither of them would reject their child for any disability. Daphne essentially argues that what is truly incapacitating Simon is his memories and unprocessed trauma, not his speech. Simon accepts both that his father was wrong about him, and that his mistakes need not dictate his future happiness. Simon’s acceptance of himself as a worthy father is a fitting sign of his character’s growth, and it emphasizes Quinn’s position that the social perception of disability, and not disability itself, is the root cause of Simon’s lingering trauma.