Yes, I’m one of those romance readers who fits the cliché: Just give me a box of bon bons and a shirtless duke in a cape and I’m all set.
Okay, so I’m not quite that clichéd. Bon bons have w-a-a-a-a-y too many carbs and just slapping the title on any wallpaper character doesn’t cut it.
I like dukes when authors make me actually believe they are dukes.
A sterling example is Mary Balogh in Slightly Dangerous. Much of the book is told from Wulfric’s POV and the reader knows that every fiber of his being is consumed by the responsibilities of his rank to his family, his tenants, and his servants. The life and livelihood of hundreds – and maybe even thousands – depend on him and he never forgets it even for one moment.