TBR Challenge: My Dearest Enemy by Connie Brockway

This title may be purchased from Amazon

Connie Brockway’s novel of unexpected love begins with a series of letters between a world-weary adventurer and the beautiful suffragette whose passion calls him home.

“Dear Mr. Thorne, For the next five years, I will profitably manage this estate. I will deliver to you an allowance and I will prove that women are just as capable as men.” Lillian Bede is shocked when she is tapped to run the affairs of an exquisite country manor. But she accepts the challenge, taking the opportunity to put her politics into practice. There’s only one snag: Lily’s ward, the infuriating, incorrigible globe-trotter Avery Thorne.

“My Dear Miss Bede, Forgive me if I fail to shudder. Pray, do whatever you bloody well want, can, or must.” Avery’s inheritance is on hiatus after his uncle dies—and his childhood home is in the hands of some domineering usurper. But when he finally returns, Avery finds that his antagonist is not at all what he expected. In fact, Lily Bede is stunning, exotic, provocative—and impossible to resist.

Rating: B+

March’s prompt for the TBR challenge is “comfort read”, which is defined as a book that uses a favourite trope or setting, or is by a favourite author.  I’ve chosen something from my TBR that everyone seems to have read except me – Connie Brockway’s My Dearest Enemy, which combines two of my favourite things, an enemies-to-lovers romance and a story in which letters play an important part (I do love an epistolary novel!).  It’s a gloriously romantic, character-driven story set at the end of the 19th century, in which our hero – a famous explorer – and heroine – an advocate of women’s suffrage – butt heads over the home they both love, sniping and pushing each other’s buttons as the attraction between them deepens.

Avery Thorne finds himself all but disinherited upon the death of his uncle Horatio, who, believing Avery to be a weakling and in need of discipline and humility, has granted stewardship of his home and lands to the illegitimate daughter of his late wife’s sister, nineteen-year-old Lilian Bede.  Miss Bede is to take possession of the property for a period of five years, and at the end of that time, if the farm and land are profitable, the house will belong to her fully.  Avery is furious, but he can do nothing, and opts to leave England rather than watch someone else take possession of the only home he has ever known.

Lily Bede is astonished to find herself the recipient of a house, and does worry that if she accepts the bequest, she will be doing the legitimate heir – whom she has never met – a bad turn.  But she doesn’t really have an alternative; with her parents both dead, she is living pretty much hand-to-mouth, and the prospect of having a real home – even one that might end up being temporary – is too much to resist.  And besides, the alternative, receiving a small income instead, but one she will lose unless she publicly denounces the Women’s Suffrage movement… well, that just isn’t going to happen.  Taking the house is, as far as Lily is concerned, the lesser of two evils.

During the five years of Avery’s absence, he and Lily exchange a series of letters, that are full of biting sarcasm (without being nasty), humorous banter and, sometimes, emotional honesty.  Avery has gained a reputation as an adventurer and explorer, and has also made himself a lot of money by writing up the stories of his exploits which are serialised in a popular newspaper.  Yet he still carries with him his ideal of home and is still determined to claim Mill House when he returns to England.

In that time, Lily has had some success in turning a profit, but she’s not in the clear yet. She’s economised considerably, reducing the staff to a bare minimum and doing a lot of the work herself; it’s her only chance to have a house and home of her own, as she doesn’t ever want to get married, so she’s worked hard and is determined to keep the house that has become her home.

Even though she and Avery have been corresponding for nearly five years by the time he returns home, Lily is in no way prepared for the way he affects her from their first meeting.  Having been led – by descriptions of those who knew him before, and from his portrait – to expect a rather scrawny and unprepossessing individual, she is stunned to come face to face with the most handsome man she’s ever seen, one who radiates confidence and masculinity to such an extent he nearly takes her breath away.

Avery is just as surprised to discover that instead of the dried up spinster he’d expected, Lily is an exotic, feminine beauty, albeit one that strides around the place in tweed bloomers.  Of course they’re both smitten – but we knew that from reading their letters and especially from Avery’s reaction to the one Lily sent him after the death of a close friend.

Their romance is beautifully written and developed as both of them try to get the upper hand in order to prove they have a right to the house while coming to appreciate each other’s sterling qualities.  Avery is a truly swoonworthy hero without being stereotypical; he’s handsome, competent and confident, but he’s more of a beta than an alpha.  He’s not vastly experienced with women, he loves his home and wants to marry and have a large family.  He’s protective without being suffocating, and I loved the way he treats Lily as an equal and lets her do things for herself whereas many men of the time would have attempted to step in and do things for her.  The way he – and the reader – is shown the extent of Lily’s care of the estate and the prejudice she has encountered on account of her gender and her illegitimacy, is masterfully done, with one moment in particular almost reducing me to a quivering wreck.  His insistence on being a gentleman is very sweet – especially as his view of what is gentlemanly tends to be somewhat fluid – but the subtle message, that the mark of a true gentleman lies in the truth and honour of his actions rather than in his manners and the adherence to convention is expertly and effectively conveyed.

Lily, too, is a great character, and I liked her very much even though there were times I wanted to shake some sense into her near the end of the book. For most of it though, she’s terrific – witty, clever, sarcastic and perfectly able to hold her own against Avery’s barbs; it’s much more difficult for her to conceal how strongly attracted to him she is than it is to find the words to get under his skin.  My main criticism of Lily is that while her reasons for not wanting to marry are sound and very well explained (her mother’s husband took away her children after she left him and she never saw them again – it’s a heartbreaking story), she has chained herself to a dead woman’s grievances and made a crusade of her mother’s pain to such an extent that she has blinded herself to the truth of what’s standing in front of her – a man who loves and respects her deeply and will never hurt her.

There is a small but very well-drawn cast of secondary characters, most intriguing of whom is Horatio’s unmarried sister, Francesca, a fading beauty who fills her life with frivolity and, it’s implied, men, but who is characterised by an underlying sadness.  Bernard, Avery’s twelve-year-old cousin is a delight; a boy becoming a man, intent on protecting his womenfolk while he also suffers from the severe asthma which affected Avery as a child (and continues to do so in certain circumstances). The relationship that evolves between the pair is just lovely.

My main criticism of the book as a whole is that the ending is very abrupt, and, given all the angst that has gone before it, the tiniest bit anticlimactic. There is an epilogue set around a decade afterwards, but I needed a little more closure on the original story rather than a glimpse into the future.

But even so, My Dearest Enemy is a gem of a book, and I’m really glad I finally got around to reading it.  It’s witty and clever, with some moments of true poignancy near the end which had me quite choked up – plus Avery is one of the most wonderfully romantic heroes I’ve ever read.

TBR Challenge: The Wagered Widow by Patricia Veryan

the-wagered-widowThis title may be purchased from Amazon.


… and Rebecca Parrish, a most respectable young widow, found him utterly odious. What right had this supercilious rake, Trevelyan de Villars, to incessantly force his attentions on her? Rebecca far preferred Trevelyan’s charming friend, the noble Sir Peter Ward. Indeed, her dreams of handsome Sir Peter aimed straight for the altar!
What Rebecca soon discovered duly horrified her. For her dear Sir Peter and the contemptible Trevelyan had formailzed a bet – that Trevelyan could seduce the very proper widow within a month’s time.

Still, Trevelyan’s attentions grew ever more passionate. And Rebecca found (to her horror!) that she thrilled to his touch. As her heart strove to resist this irresistible cad, she suddenly saw what he really was: A libertine no more – now at last and forever in love!

Rating: B

Although I’ve been aware of Patricia Veryan for a number of years, up until recently, her books were out of print and the only way to obtain them was to find rather tatty second-hand paperbacks. Fortunately, many of her books have now been made available digitally, meaning that I was able to make her my “new to me author” for February’s TBR Challenge prompt.

I’ve often seen her work likened to Georgette Heyer’s, and although I think that Heyer fans are likely to enjoy Ms. Veryan’s books, they are quite different in certain essentials.  For one thing, almost all Ms. Heyer’s books are set during the Regency, while only around a third of Ms. Veryan’s are; most of her books are set more than fifty years earlier in the Georgian era.  In fact, the cover of the paperback edition (1984) of The Wagered Widow proudly proclaims it to be A Regency Romance, whereas it’s actually set almost seventy years before the Regency, in 1746, just a year after the Battle of Culloden.  And for another, her books usually have a political element; Ms. Veryan’s series of romantic adventures – The Tales of the Jewelled Men, The Golden Chronicles and the Sanguinet Saga (which is set during the Regency) all use the Jacobite rebellion and Battle of Culloden as important plot points and feature characters who are in some way connected with both events.

The Wagered Widow is a standalone book that also works as a prequel to The Golden Chronicles, which I definitely intend to read now they’re all available as ebooks.  It tells the story of a lively young woman who has just finished her year of mourning for her late husband – who has left her in impecunious circumstances and with a six year old son to look after.  Rebecca Parrish is petite, lovely, vivacious and well aware of her tendency towards hoydenish behaviour.  She is also aware that, if she is to secure a well-to-do second husband who will be able to keep her and Anthony more than comfortably, she is going to have to tone down her liveliness a little and be a little more demure; after all, no man wants a wife who could be labelled ‘fast’.

When she makes the acquaintance of Sir Peter Ward, a wealthy gentleman who also happens to be extremely handsome and not too much older than she is, Rebecca thinks she has found the solution to her problems.  She knows it’s mercenary of her, but she has her son and his future to think of, and she decides to fix Sir Peter’s interest and secure an offer of marriage from him.  It’s true that he’s rather reserved and a bit of a stick-in-the-mud, but he’s kind and attentive and Rebecca knows she could do a lot worse than wed a man who will care for and look after her, even if there is no great passion or love between them.  The problem is that his friend, the darkly attractive Trevelyan de Villars knows exactly what Rebecca is about, and takes every opportunity he can to tease her about it.  De Villars has the blackest reputation and is widely known to be a rake of the first order, something Rebecca won’t let him forget.  His wickedly humorous, flirtatious teasing is often very funny; she devises various epithets for him in her head – The Brute, The Lascivious Libertine, The Wicked Lecher…  he infuriates her,  she amuses him and the sparks fly.

The plotline might not be very original, but it’s well-executed, with lots of humour and fun dialogue, an entertaining secondary cast (especially the foppish Sir Graham Fortescue who is definitely more than he seems) and a touch of drama in the later stages.  The way that Rebecca very gradually comes to see just which of the two gentlemen is the right one for her is nicely done;  we watch her slowly shedding her prejudices about de Villars at the same time as he finds it increasingly difficult to maintain his coolly cynical persona around her, and the few scenes in which he interacts with Rebecca’s son, who very shrewdly notes that “… his eyes say different to his words”  – are utterly charming.  The couple doesn’t progress past a few kisses on the page, but there’s a nice frisson of sexual tension between them, and it’s clear that these are two people who are passionately in love.

The writing is witty and spry and makes use of expressions and idioms that feel authentic, and there is plenty of detail about the fashions, décor and customs of the day, so those of us who like a bit of history in our historical romance certainly won’t be disappointed.  But one of the things I was most pleasantly surprised about in this book was the characterisation.  In some of the older romance novels I’ve read, it’s sometimes fairly thin, but that is most definitely not the case here.  Rebecca is a fully-rounded character who own up to her flaws and while Trevelyan is perhaps not quite so well-developed, his feelings and motivations are easy for the reader to discern and through them, we get a clearer picture of the real man beneath the outer layer of world-weary ennui.

The Wagered Widow is a light-hearted, frothy read overall and is firmly rooted in the time in which it is set by the addition of the secondary plotline that revolves around the continuing search for Jacobite fugitives.  I really enjoyed it and am looking forward to reading more of Ms. Veryan’s work.

TBR Challenge: His Christmas Countess (Lords of Disgrace #2) by Louise Allen


This title may be purchased from Amazon.

A Christmas baby…

Grant Rivers, Earl of Allundale, is desperate to get home in time for Christmas. But when he stumbles upon a woman all alone in a tumbledown shack, having a baby out of wedlock, it’s his duty to stay and help her.

…leads to unexpected wedding vows!

Grant knows all too well the risks of childbirth, and he’s witnessed enough tragedy to last a lifetime. So once he’s saved her life Grant is determined to save Kate’s reputation too… if she will consent to marrying a stranger on Christmas Day!

Rating: A-

His Christmas Countess is book two in Louise Allen’s most recent series, The Four Disgraces, in which the heroes are a group of young men who earned that sobriquet as a result of their daring exploits at school and university.  For some reason, I read the first, third and fourth books when they came out and missed this one – which was a mistake, because while I enjoyed the others and rated them highly, this is the best of the lot.

It’s Christmas Eve and Grantham Rivers is on his way from Edinburgh to Northumberland, where he hopes to get to the bedside of his dying grandfather in time to say his final goodbyes.  When his horse goes lame, and with the weather worsening at every moment, he has little alternative but to take refuge in a shepherd’s  hut or “bothy”  – and is astonished to discover that he is not the only one stranded in the middle of nowhere while waiting for the storm to pass.  A heavily pregnant woman is sheltering there, too, and Grant who, while not a doctor, has studied medicine – recognises the signs of early labour.

Kate Harding was all but pushed into the arms of the man who ruined her by her unscrupulous brother, who now intends to blackmail her child’s father.  Threatening to take Kate’s baby from her in order to ensure her co-operation, her brother sent her to Scotland until the birth, but when – at last – the chance to escape arose, Kate took it, and made her way to the nearest coaching inn.  But her money was stolen, leaving her penniless; the weather is closing in and she is alone, friendless and scared, with no alternative but to wait out the coming snowstorm in a nearby bothy.  But it seems someone else has had the same idea.  The man who enters is tall, dark, handsome and somewhat severe, but he quickly reassures her, telling her he is a doctor and that he will make sure she is safely delivered.

Grant, a widower, has a young son by from his first – disastrous – marriage, and is well aware that six year old Charlie needs a mother.  He is also heir to an earldom – something he neglects to tell Kate, understandably in the circumstances – and has been feeling guilty about the fact that he has neglected to do the one thing his grandfather had asked of him, and marry again.  Impulsively, and as Kate nears the end of her long labour, he suggests that they marry – he needs a mother for his son, her child will need a father – and as they are in Scotland, all they need do is declare their intent to wed before witnesses.  A couple of passing shepherds are pleased to perform that service, and Grant and Kate are married, shortly before her daughter, Anna, makes her way into the world.

Given the remoteness of Grant’s home, and the fact that as a medical man, he is unlikely to move in the same circles as her brother, Kate believes she has found the perfect refuge. So when they arrive at Abbeywell Grange and she hears Grant addressed as “my Lord”, she is shocked.  Grant tiredly explains that his grandfather – who just passed away – was the third Earl of Allundale, and that he (Grant) is now the fourth earl, and Kate is immediately worried. An earl will be expected to spend some of his time in London and Kate has no wish to return to the scene of her disgrace or to risk an encounter with her brother.   But what’s done is done, and she recognises she is in no fit state to think about much more than caring for her daughter and taking comfort in the warmth and safety of her new home.

Shortly after his grandfather’s funeral, Grant tells Kate that he must go to London to consult with his solicitor and to see to various other matters of business.  He ends up being away for almost six months, and finally returns home to find things much changed. The wife he had left a tired, pale shadow is now a pretty, vibrant young woman with a quick wit and keen intelligence; and Grant is not a little surprised at the strength of the attraction he feels towards her.

Grant’s first marriage was a passionate love match – or so he’d thought, until his beautiful wife began to show signs of mental instability that turned into hatred.  He is still haunted by the manner of her death and clams up every time Kate tries to get him to tell her what happened.  But Kate is persistent. She never bullies or demands and eventually Grant realises that she deserves the truth.  The one black mark I can make against Kate is that while Grant shares the truth of his past with her, she does not do the same, causing him to continue to believe that she is still carrying a torch for Anna’s father.  Kate knows she needs to come clean, but, not wanting to jeopardise their marriage, makes some poor decisions and tries to deal with her brother herself.  But those are my only criticisms of what is an otherwise excellent book.

As the story takes place over a year – we get two Christmases for the price of one! – the romance is allowed time to develop and we watch Kate and Grant progressing from physical attraction to a deeper emotional connection. The love scenes are sensual and romantic; nicely steamy but not over the top for this type of story, and written with an extremely sure hand.

Louise Allen has crafted a wonderful story about two strangers thrown together by circumstance who progress from mutual friendship and respect to passionate attachment.  They have to get to know each other and both of them make mistakes and say and do things that annoy the other, yet they are both mature enough to be able to own up to those missteps, apologise for them and move on.  Even though both are keeping secrets, there’s an honesty to their relationship that is refreshing, and a sense that these are two people who are going to make a go of things, no matter how shaky the start to their life together.  All in all, His Christmas Countess is a superbly written, beautifully paced romance and it’s going right onto my keeper shelf.

TBR Challenge: Imprudent Lady by Joan Smith


This title may be purchased from Amazon.

Is she an innocent or not? Prudence Mallow, weary of the poor relation role, discovers her calling in writing novels. Modest, sincere novels, not the scandalous fare of Lord Dammler’s Cantos from Abroad. Drawn by the rakish marquis into the hotbed of London society, Prudence finds herself in way over her head—and heart.

Rating: B+

The Historical prompt for the TBR Challenge is a bit of a Busman’s Holiday for yours truly, but even so, I still enjoy going through my books to find something I haven’t read yet.  This time round, I settled on a traditional Regency from 1978, Joan Smith’s Imprudent Lady. Many authors have had books likened to those of Georgette Heyer, and while that is a comparison that’s always going to draw my eye, I’ve been disappointed on many an occasion.  Not so here.  Imprudent Lady is an utterly delightful rake-meets-bluestocking story full to the brim with sparkling dialogue, beautifully observed wit and deftly drawn characters that has at its centre a warm, charming romance between a rakish, Byronic poet and an authoress with a talent for writing sharply observed characters and situations.

Miss Prudence Mallow and her mother have been left in reduced circumstances and have gone to live with Mrs. Mallow’s brother, Mr Clarence Elmtree, an amateur artist with a hugely inflated idea of the extent of his skill.  In order to earn a little money, Prudence does some work as a copyist for publisher, Mr. John Murray, and in the course of her work starts penning stories of her own.  Murray is impressed with her writing style and her strong observational skill and humour, and undertakes to publish The Composition, even though it is not in the current vogue for exciting romantic adventures à la Walter Scott.

The book sells steadily, and Prudence is soon at work on a second novel, and then a third.  Her work is well-regarded and she finds herself coming into contact with some of her favourite authors, such as Fanny Burney, but does not make much of an impression on them.

The literary world and English society is set abuzz is the return to England of Lord Dammler, whose Cantos from Abroad, thinly disguised tales – full of over-blown action, adventure and romance – of his three years travelling the world have become an instant success.  The handsome, aristocratic Dammler is society’s golden-boy, although he quickly finds that being constantly in the spotlight and the subject of endless sycophancy is not all it’s cracked up to be.

Along with the rest of society, Prudence has been enthralled by Dammler’s tales of derring-do, and is bowled over by his dark good looks.  Enthused by a brief meeting, she is moved to send Dammler an autographed copy of The Composition – and is hurt when she discovers he passed it on to his aunt without reading it. In a fit of pique, she dismisses Dammler’s writing as “nothing but a totally incredible novel in rhyme.”

Learning of this, Dammler takes up Prudence’s novel and is surprised to find it engaging and witty. When the two meet again, he is immediately intrigued by Prudence’s no-nonsense manner and the fact that she doesn’t simper and flirt like every other woman he meets.  Because her clothes are drab and she sports the sort of lace cap usually worn by older ladies, he at first takes her to be older than her twenty-four years and fails to mind his tongue, talking quite freely to Prudence about matters that are considered too “warm” for the ears of a younger lady.  But Prudence doesn’t really mind; in fact, Dammler’s discourse, while it might shock her at times, is eye-opening for her in many ways, and they strike up a friendship based on professional affinity – they’re both writers, they have the same publisher – and he begins to introduce her to people of influence and to advance her career.

The romance between this unlikely couple is very well done, with the bulk of the story focusing on Dammler’s gradual transition from rakehell to a man deeply in love.

He admired and respected Miss Mallow’s books and brains initially, then he began to like her dry wit, her understatement, her way of not pretending to be impressed with his past (and present) affairs, which he coloured bright, to shock her.

When she wore her new bonnets, he thought she was rather sweet looking, in an old-fashioned way.  They talked and laughed together for hours.  If anyone had told him they were well suited, he would have been shocked.

Dammler is all one could want in a romantic hero – handsome, clever, confident, but self-aware enough not to take himself too seriously.  Yet for most of the book, he has no idea that what he is feeling for Prudence IS love, although the reader sees the progression from professional interest to friendship to love through some of the wittiest banter I’ve read in a long time. And while Prudence is aware of the nature of her feelings, she believes the fact that Dammler talks so openly to her means that he sees her as another male friend, or – just as bad – a sister.

“I didn’t go out at all last night.  Stayed home and got the second act written in rough.”

This was the second time he had mentioned in a seemingly casual fashion the innocent nature of his nights, and Prudence decided to chide him about it.  “I wasn’t hellraking last night, either, but I hadn’t meant to brag to you about it.”

“Oh, what a heartless wench she is!  You complained loud enough when I was out carousing. Won’t you say a kind word on my improvement?”

“I did not complain!  Don’t cast me in the role of guardian of your morals.”

“Well, I hoped to please you by improving.  No one else ever was kind enough to worry about me, or care whether I ran to perdition.”

“What a plumper!  Your mama cried for two hours when you got drunk.”

“But she’s been dead for ten years.  I started drinking young.  And my father has been dead for fifteen years.  Just a poor orphan waif, really.  Couldn’t you pat my head and bless me, or must I lie on the floor and hold my breath to excite any interest?”

“Indeed it is not necessary to choke yourself.  Good boy,” she reached out and patted his head, and felt sorry for him in spite of his shameless bid for pity.

There are, of course, a couple of hiccups along the way in the form of some unsuitable suitors, one of whom is a particularly odious misogynist.  The final section, which takes place in Bath, lacks some of the earlier sparkle, but by that time, I was so firmly rooting for Dammler and Prudence to resolve their differences that I didn’t really mind.

Imprudent Lady is the perfect pick-me-up read; quick, funny and clever, with a nicely done romance and some great secondary characters, not least of which is Prudence’s uncle Clarence, the truly awful artist.  Somehow, Joan Smith keeps this running joke fresh, as Clarence expounds – frequently – upon various aspects of his art:

“I think Lawrence could pick up a trick of two from me, but he is quite spoilt with attention…  I blushed for him, poor fellow, to see everyone praising such likenesses.  He had a wart on Lady Cassel’s nose.  You’d think anyone who calls himself an artist would have panted it out.  But his sensitivity is entirely lacking.  He can only paint a pretty picture if he has as pretty subject.”

If you’re in the mood for a light-hearted, tender romance full of sharply observed witty banter, add Imprudent Lady to your TBR.  You won’t regret it.

TBR Challenge: An Heir of Uncertainty by Alyssa Everett


This title may be purchased from Amazon

Yorkshire, 1820

Lina, Lady Radbourne, thought being a countess would rescue her from poverty. Unfortunately, her young groom failed to plan for the future, and his drunken accident left her widowed and pregnant. Now Colonel Winstead Vaughan—Win—will inherit her late husband’s fortune…unless she gives birth to a boy. Win is her natural enemy, so why can’t she stop thinking about him?

Win is stunned to learn he stands to inherit a vast fortune. He’s even more surprised to find himself falling for the beautiful, spirited Lady Radbourne, who is the one woman who stands in the way of a life he’d only imagined.

When someone tries to poison Lady Radbourne, suspicion falls on Win. There’s a clever killer in their midst, and if Win doesn’t solve the mystery fast, Lina may perish. He needs to win her trust, but how can he prove it’s she he wants, and not the fortune?

Rating: B+

I’ve been a fan of this author’s since I read  Ruined by Rumor a few years back, and have eagerly snapped up everything she has written since.  For some reason, though, An Heir of Uncertainty has languished on my TBR pile, so I decided to make September my “rescue a languishing book” month!

Colonel Winstead Vaughan is surprised to learn that he has inherited an earldom following the very unexpected death of the young  Earl of Radbourne, a distant cousin.  Win’s own estate of Hamble Grange is in financial difficulties, and things are looking bleak; he had to remove his younger brother from Cambridge because he could not afford the fees and, looking years ahead, doesn’t know how he will provide a suitable dowry for his five-year-old daughter when the time comes.   So while he is naturally sorry to hear of a young life tragically ended, he can’t help feeling just a bit relieved that his financial problems appear to have been solved.

Summoned to Yorkshire by the estate’s solicitors, Win undertakes the arduous journey from Hampshire accompanied by Julia and his brother, Freddie, only to find upon arrival that the situation is not as he had been informed.  It appears that the young earl’s wife of three months is pregnant, and that the earldom is now in abeyance until she has the baby.  Win is naturally a bit disgruntled at having travelled all that way with a fractious five-year-old and incessantly chattering nineteen-year-old when he might not stand to inherit after all, and immediately decides to return home to wait out the months until the birth.

Lina, Lady Radbourne had not realised she was expecting at the time she was notified of the death of her husband, but by the time she did realise, it was too late, and the estate’s trustees had already summoned the ‘new earl’.  Not wanting to create any more awkwardness, she moves to the dower house with her sister, so that Win – who is still the heir presumptive – can stay at Belryth Abbey.  Lina and Win are naturally a little apprehensive around each other, but when, the day after his arrival, Win encounters Lina on a walk and escorts her home to discover that the dower house has been broken into, he decides that perhaps he should stick around for a while for a rest before undertaking the 250 mile journey home –  and to make sure the necessary repairs are taken care of.  Over the next few days, a series of other seeming “accidents” – poisoned tea, a dead dog, and then a ‘trip’ into the path of a moving carriage – directed at Lina and her unborn baby suggest that someone is deliberately trying to harm her, and Win is the obvious suspect.  After all, he has most to gain should her child not be born.  But even in the few short days they have known each other, Lina has learned that Win is a man to be trusted.  And more than that, she can’t stop thinking about him, the strength of the attraction she feels startling and quite new.  Lina had been very fond of her husband, but had married him out of friendship and a desire for security for herself and her younger sister rather than because of any romantic attachment.

Win is similarly smitten with Lina, and is puzzled by the fact that nobody in the area has a good word to say about her.  Before he meets her, the estate’s trustees talk about her as if she is a jezebel, a woman of extremely lax morals whose baby is likely not even her late husband’s.  On meeting her, he wonders if they were talking about the same woman, because Lina is decorous and ladylike as well as being lovely.

I’m not going to reveal whodunit – or who tried to do it – but the author keeps the plot twisting and turning right up until the end, throwing in a few extra and very plausible suspects along the way – and the reveal, when it comes, is suitably shocking.  The romance between Win and Lina, while it takes place over just a few days, is nonetheless fully developed, and the sexual tension between them crackles whenever they’re in scenes together.

But the thing that elevates this book into more than ‘just’ an historical mystery is the richness of the characterisation and the sense of community Ms. Everett has created around this small Yorkshire village.  All the secondary characters are superbly drawn, from the lovelorn doctor to the grumpy local magistrate, and her depiction of Win’s brother, Freddie, is superb.  Today, we’d recognise him as being on the autistic spectrum, but back then, of course, he would have just been regarded as rather odd, what with his obsession with pigeons, his forthright and literal honesty and his utter lack of guile.  Freddie is wonderfully endearing and it’s obvious that the brothers would do anything for each other.  Win and Lina are fully-rounded characters with more than a bit of emotional baggage which trips them both up at key moments; the circumstances of Win’s unhappy marriage make it difficult for him to fully consider a future with Lina, and Lina is wary of making her mother’s mistakes.  Both of them need to come to terms with their pasts so they can move forward into the future together, and their eventual realisations about what is really important is handled well.

An Heir of Uncertainty  is a book I can heartily recommend.  Alyssa Everett gets the balance between romance and whodunit just right; and while perhaps the ending is a little too neatly tied up, it doesn’t spoil what is a thoroughly engrossing and entertaining read.

TBR Challenge: Deirdre and Don Juan by Jo Beverley

deirdre and don juan

This title may be purchased from Amazon.

Ever since his wife left him, The Earl of Everdon – known by those around him as ‘Don Juan’ – has led a life of illicit liaisons and scandal. Until his rakish reputation threatens to be his downfall.

He sets his sights on Lady Deirdre Stowe, a quiet young girl from the village. Only, she is already betrothed… Will she let him win her heart?


July is RITA month for the TBR Challenge, and I always enjoy going through their lists of past winners to see which ones I’ve got on my TBR pile.  Fortunately, I always find a few, so I’m set for a few more years yet (!), and this year it seemed fitting to go for a title by Jo Beverley, whose name – not surprisingly – appears on the list of winners several times.

Deirdre and Don Juan  (winner of the award for Best Regency in 1994) is an utterly delightful take on the “rake-meets-plain-jane” trope, in which both hero and heroine have some growing up to do.  The gorgeous, charming and very rakish Mark Juan Carlos Renfrew, Earl of Everdon, is widely known throughout society as Don Juan for his half-Spanish heritage as well as his way with the ladies.  Although his wife ran off with another man a decade earlier, and after just six months of marriage, he didn’t seek a divorce because his status as a married man meant that he was safe from the matchmaking mamas on the marriage mart.

However, he has been recently widowed and decides to marry again before his new-found freedom becomes known throughout society at large and makes him a target for every eligible young lady in the ton.  When his mother – half-jokingly – suggests her somewhat mousy friend, Lady Deirdre Stowe as a possible wife, Everdon actually thinks it’s a good idea.  Deirdre is plain and quiet, just the sort of woman he wants; she’ll be only too glad to land a rich, handsome husband, give him his heir and spare and live quietly in the country while he gets on with his life in London.  It’s the perfect solution.

Lady Deirdre has other ideas, however.  For one thing, Everdon is a rake and not at all the sort of man who would make a good husband, and for another, she is in love with someone else, a man of genius, a mathematician named Howard Dunstable who is going to Do Great Things.  She has visions of her life with him in a pretty cottage, he working on his complex mathematics while she caters to his every whim, embroiders and eventually, she hopes, looks after the children.

Her parents are not at all pleased about the idea of their daughter making a match so far beneath her, but Deirdre is stubborn and has extracted a promise from them that if she has not received  a suitable proposal by the end of the season,  she will be allowed to marry Howard.  But with just a few weeks to go, along comes Everdon with his proposal and ruins everything.  If his reputation wasn’t enough to make her dislike him, the spoke he puts in the wheel of Deirdre’s plans to marry Howard certainly are, and she wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

Unfortunately for her, Deirdre’s father has agreed to the match, which means that Everdon cannot, in all honour, call it off.  (Ladies could break an engagement, gentlemen couldn’t).  But Deirdre can’t cry off either, as doing so will break the terms of the agreement with her parents.  When she explains the situation to Everdon he concludes that there’s only one way to end the betrothal and offers to engineer a situation whereby she will catch him in a compromising situation with another woman.  In the meantime, however, they must behave like an engaged couple and be seen to spend time together.

This, of course, allows both of them time to adjust their opinions of the other.  The more Everdon sees of Deirdre, the more he comes to admire her intellect, her kindness and her spirit and to realise that she’s not plain at all.  His late wife’s betrayal has made him understandably wary of emotional entanglements and lingering doubts about his own culpability in her desertion – he feels he neglected her – surface during his pursuit of Deirdre; but he doesn’t wallow and his doubts help him to realise that he wants to marry her because he loves her and not simply because she will be a convenient wife.

Deirdre refuses to be swayed by the earl’s good looks and charm, but even so, she can’t help comparing the way he treats her – as though he actually sees her and is interested in her for herself rather than what she can do for him – with the way Howard practically ignores her.  Everdon makes her feel beautiful and desired for the first time in her life, while her would-be fiancé is dismissive or takes her for granted.  She is perhaps a little too stubborn in her refusal to admit that Howard is completely wrong for her, but I can understand her difficulty; she’s been so set on marrying him for so long that to admit her mistake to herself is one thing, but to admit it to others is incredibly difficult and somewhat lowering.

There is a small, but well-realised cast of secondary characters, such as Everdon’s mother and his odd but strangely insightful cousin Kevin, otherwise known as the Daffodil Dandy because of his predilection for the colour yellow.  Deirdre’s young scamps of brothers are fun, and her mother, who makes up for what she lacks in fashion sense in her good common sense, clearly wants the best for her daughter in spite of her propensity to dress her in far too many ruffles and flounces.

This is a fairly short novel  (217 pages according to Amazon), and I flew through it in one or two sittings, I enjoyed it that much.  It’s a “kisses only” sensuality rating, but the air crackles between the couple from the start, and Jo Beverley builds the romantic tension between them so well that their looks, touches and eventual kisses are wonderfully sensual.  There’s a real warmth to the family dynamics and a lovely, understated humour; all of which combine to make Deirdre and Don Juan a truly charming traditional Regency.

NOTE: In the US, this title is available only in Lovers and Ladies, which also contains The Fortune Hunter.

TBR Challenge: A Lady’s Lesson in Scandal by Meredith Duran

a lady's lesson in scandal

This title may be purchased from Amazon.


When Nell Whitby breaks into an earl’s house on a midnight quest for revenge, she finds her pistol pointed at the wrong man – one handsome as sin and naked as the day he was born. Pity he’s a lunatic. He thinks her a missing heiress, but more to the point, he’ll help her escape the slums and right a grave injustice. Not a bad bargain. All she has to do is marry him.


A rake of the first order, Simon St. Maur spent his restless youth burning every bridge he crossed. When he inherits an earldom without a single penny attached to it, he sees a chance to start over – provided he can find an heiress to fund his efforts. But his wicked reputation means courtship will be difficult – until fate sends him the most notorious missing heiress in history. All he needs now is to make her into a lady and keep himself from making the only mistake that could ruin everything: falling in love…


This month’s theme of Favourite Trope was easy. Or rather, picking the trope was easy; I needed to do a bit of searching around for a book featuring it I haven’t read yet! There are few tropes I actively dislike, but I’m a sucker for a good marriage of convenience story. I love the idea of two people who don’t or who hardly know each other being put into a situation of enforced proximity and intimacy and watching them as they come to know and understand each other and to fall in love. It’s a trope that works especially well in historicals, and my enduring love for it is no doubt partly attributable to the fact that the first historical romance I remember reading is Julia Quinn’s The Viscount Who Loved Me which makes excellent use of the compromised-into-marriage plotline.

I’ve read a lot of MoC stories since then, and had to wonder if I had any left on my TBR pile! I went scurrying to AAR’s Special Title Listings for inspiration and came up with Meredith Duran’s A Lady’s Lesson in Scandal. I’m a big fan of this author, and as I’ve said before, I save her books for when I want to read something I KNOW will be good, so this seemed a good time to finally read it.

Nell Whitby works in an East End cigar factory and lives with her invalid mother in a tiny hovel in Bethnal Green. It’s a tough life and a hand-to-mouth existence; and making things worse, her abusive step-brother is drinking away the money that could pay for her mother’s medicine and keeps suggesting that Nell starts making money on her back to pay for it. With her dying breaths, her mother tells Nell that she must get in touch with her father – her real father – the Earl of Rushden, and raves about having stolen her in order to save part of him and to save Nell.

Homeless and grieving for her loss, Nell decides she’ll do more than contact the Earl of Rushden, whom she believes must have got her mother pregnant and then thrown her out. She breaks into his bedroom late one night intent on murder – only to discover that the earl died some months earlier. The new earl, Simon St. Maur, is a very distant relation of the previous one; he’s also a lot younger, handsome as hell and twice as hot. But while he has inherited the Rushden estates and title, Simon is pockets to let, the old earl having disliked him so intensely that he left his two million pound fortune to his twin daughters and his estates to Simon without leaving him the means to run them.

Most believed Rushden to be mad, bequeathing half his fortune to a girl long thought dead. Over the years, there have been a number of imposters claiming to be Lady Cornelia Aubyn, but after years of searching, the daughter who had been kidnapped as a young child was never found. Yet now, incredibly, here she is, a golden opportunity if ever Simon saw one. He recognises Nell immediately and realises they can help each other; by marrying her, he will gain access to half the late earl’s fortune, and at the same time, he can restore her to her proper place in society. The fact that she’s an uncouth guttersnipe doesn’t really deter him; she’s got spirit and intelligence, and will easily be able to learn how to behave properly in society. Besides, the marriage can be annulled later; they’ll reach a financial settlement and go their separate ways, both of them much better off than they started out.

Not surprisingly, Nell thinks Simon is talking out of his arse when he tells her who she really is. Having been brought up in the slums and with no expectations of ever having anything better, she agrees to go along with Simon’s scheme simply in order to placate him even as she is pricing up the silver and stashing away small items she thinks to sell when she runs off. But there are small things niggling at the back of her mind; the familiarity of a picture, for instance, and the fact that she really does look very much like Lady Katharine, her supposed twin – that sew enough seeds of doubt in Nell’s mind as to make her start to believe that perhaps she really is the missing heiress. Then there’s her growing attraction to Simon, who, she quickly realises, is very far from being the sort of brainless, selfish product of his class she assumes all aristocrats to be.

This is very much a character-driven story, and Ms. Duran has created a couple of very attractive, multi-layered protagonists in Nell and Simon. At first glance, Simon seems to be a bit stereotypical – handsome and titled, but broke and needing to marry money. And it’s true – he is and he does – but he’s much more than that, which makes him all the more appealing. Like Nell, he has been hardened by his upbringing albeit in a different way, his harsh, cynical outlook on life concealing deeply buried vulnerabilities. He is a gifted musician and pianist, but because it wasn’t the done thing for a gentleman to excel in artistic pursuits, his family belittled his talent and wanted him to suppress it. Now, however, he is one of the foremost patrons of the arts in England, and the man all of society looks to in matters of artistic taste – To disagree with the Earl of Rushden’s artistic opinions was to risk being thought a bumpkin. Yet he is as trapped by his circumstances as Nell is by hers.

Nell is understandably prickly and quick to mistrust. Her life has been a difficult one and I completely understood her reluctance to believe Simon straight away, even though it would mean escape from her old life into a life of continued luxury. She keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for things to go wrong and makes her plans accordingly. It’s not until some way into the book that she finally accepts that she really is Lady Cornelia and agrees to undergo the training she will need to make her fit for society. Even then, however, she fights it, denouncing all the various conventions and social mores as hypocrisy – The rules here were rotten. The quick-fire verbal exchanges between Nell and Simon are superbly constructed, showing their matched wit and their equality of mind while also highlighting the very great social gulf between them.

Until coming here, until learning what it meant to be privileged, she’d not understood how far down St. Maur’s kind had to look in order to see hers. But here, in his own words, was the philosophy that made his lot comfortable with never bothering to look down at all.

“Money’s no virtue. It shouldn’t be an end in itself.” She gave a dry little laugh. “And neither should pleasure. If you knew any gin addicts, you’d realise that.”

Watching these two wary, naturally suspicious people move around each other in ever decreasing circles is an absolute delight. The romance is extremely well-developed as the initial spark of attraction between the couple gradually strengthens and deepens into love, and the sexual chemistry between them is utterly delicious and leaps off the page. Both characters are changed by their relationship, Simon especially, as he comes to see and understand the depth of the privation faced by so many people day after day; and Nell learns to stop expecting the worst all the time and to see herself as a woman whose background doesn’t mean she is unworthy of happiness and love. Ms Duran doesn’t sugar-coat the life Nell has lived, the squalor and the degradation and the way it has shaped her, or ignore the fact that, in spite of her noble birth, Nell is never really going to be fully accepted in society and will be forever “between classes”.

Loving him would not be easy. It would mean never again completely belonging anywhere – save with him. But she would belong with him. He would be her home, she thought.

But what gives the reader confidence for their future is that both of them are well aware of the difficulties they are likely to face and are prepared to face them together.

I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and I’m sure it’s one I’ll revisit, but it isn’t without its problems. Well into the second half, Nell has a massive over-reaction to something she overhears and then refuses to believe the truth about it; and there’s a nefarious plot by those who are intent on keeping the old earl’s money for themselves which crosses the line into melodrama. But otherwise, A Lady’s Lesson in Scandal is a beautifully written and intense love story with complex, flawed characters who may not always be likeable but whose motivations are clear and understandable. Their continual reappraising of each other through words and actions is masterfully done, and I was pleased that Nell ends the book as essentially the same fiercely intelligent, strong woman she started out as, but has finally learned to trust in her happiness with the man she loves. I can’t do anything other than but the book on my Keeper shelf.