Showing posts with label Miranda Neville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Miranda Neville. Show all posts

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Lady Windermere's Lover


Lady Windermere’s Lover
By Miranda Neville
Publisher: Avon
Release Date: June 24, 2014

Drunk on an excess of spirits, emotional and alcoholic, Damian, Viscount Kendal, lost Beaulieu, a property left to him by his mother on the same day he inherited it, his 21st birthday. Dismayed when he finds out that Robert Townsend, the friend to whom he lost Beaulieu, has already lost it himself, Damian has little choice but to confess his rash behavior and its consequences to his father. During the session with his father, Damian pledges to distance himself from his wild friends and to seriously apply himself to a career in diplomatic service.

Six years later, Damian, now Earl of Windermere, finally regains Beaulieu, but its owner, a wealthy Birmingham merchant, sets an exorbitant price on the property: marriage to his niece, Cynthia Chorley. Damian, seething with anger and resentment, agrees to pay the price. His feelings intensify when he finds himself with a provincial wife who possesses none of the poise and presence required of the wife of an ambitious man in Foreign Service.

Cynthia is ignorant of her uncle’s machinations. Aware only that she has escaped marriage to a bestial man in her uncle’s employ and is instead marrying a handsome aristocrat with a devastating smile, she dreams of happiness with him. She is soon disillusioned. Damian treats her with a total lack of consideration in bed and out, and two weeks after their wedding, he leaves for a diplomatic mission to Persia.

Cynthia is devastated when she suffers a miscarriage, her pain increased by Damian’s indifference. When she is at her lowest point, she is befriended by Caro Townsend and becomes part of Caro’s artistic set whose unconventional behavior and disregard for proper appearances scandalizes London society. Cynthia acquires a wardrobe that enhances her beauty, takes French lessons, polishes her social skills, and generally tries to become the kind of woman Damian wants as his wife. She also acquires a close friend in the person of Julian Fortescue, recently and unexpectedly Duke of Denford. Cynthia enjoys Denford’s company, but she is confused by the mix of “attraction and repulsion, fear and longing” that he stirs in her. She is also convinced that he is a better man than he believes himself to be.

Damian returns to London after a year in Persia, summoned home by the foreign office. He is dimly aware that he has treated Cynthia badly but still hopeful of salvaging a reasonably amicable relationship with his wife. Believing his wife at Beaulieu, he is surprised to learn she is in residence in the Windermere London residence. Later when, during a theater visit with his mentor’s wife (a former lover of Damian’s), he sees a blonde beauty in the company of the current Duke of Denford , Damian’s former best friend and the man he holds responsible for the event that changed his life, he fails to recognize the beauty is the Countess of Windermere.

Cynthia does recognize Damian. In fact, she returned to London because she had received news of his return to England. Convinced that his theater companion is his mistress, she determines to show him how little she cares. Damian, after observing a late night embrace between Cynthia and Denford, is equally convinced that his wife and his enemy are lovers. Even though Damian and Cynthia have both reached erroneous conclusions and even though they both long for a real marriage, their suspicions and their lack of knowledge about each other makes building a life together seem impossible. And at every turn Denford is there further complicating their lives.

No summary does justice to a Miranda Neville novel. Much of the joy of reading this author’s books rests on the intricacy of her character building, the intelligence of her writing, and her subtle flashes of humor. She has shown in other novels that she has the skill to take an unsympathetic character and reveal the motivations and vulnerabilities behind behavior the reader wants to condemn in such a way that the reader ends up sympathetically engaged with the character. She does exactly this with Damian. He really does treat Cynthia abominably, and his behavior initially seems inexcusable. It’s hard to forget thoughts like this one: “Some might call the new Countess of Windermere an English rose. More like a wild flower, in his opinion. Or a weed.” But as the losses he suffered are revealed and as the reader recognizes that his own shame and the influence of his father and his mentor have transformed an ardent, artistic boy into a man who has buried his emotions and his ideals, the reader longs to see that which has been buried resurrected and Damian reborn as his mother’s son. It also helps that Damian acknowledges and regrets his treatment of Cynthia early on, and that his regrets deepen as his love for Cynthia grows.

Cynthia is appealing from the beginning. She is a woman of intelligence, integrity, and the kind of courage and optimism it takes to get up and keep going when life delivers a knockout punch. She is also genuinely kind, a quality often underrated in fiction as in life. I really liked that the charity work with which she becomes involved is not just general benevolence but something in which Cynthia has a personal stake, and I thought her means of financing the charity showed her spirit and her sense of humor.

I have found the art connection that runs through this series interesting. Neville does not settle for mere allusions to art. She makes it a real and meaningful part of the lives of her characters. Some of my favorite scenes in this novel were those where Cynthia and Damian drew one another and shared their drawings. It was an original and appropriate way to reveal their growing intimacy. Art was the initial connection between Damian and Denford as well, and it plays a role in their tense resumption of social exchanges.

The black-clad, Heyer-inspired Denford comes close to stealing the book at times, and I’m certain mine is not the only heart he stole. His story, The Duke of Dark Desires, a December 31 release, will complete the Wild Quartet. It’s on my most eagerly anticipated list.

For me, the abandoned bride who transforms herself and amazes her neglectful groom with her newly revealed grace and beauty can be a riveting story or a hackneyed hash. Obviously, I found Lady Windermere’s Lover in the riveting category. Other favorite treatments of this trope include Mary Balogh’s The First Snowdrop (1986) and Eloisa James’s Duchess in Love (2002), which tweaks the trope. Do you like the transformed bride trope? What are your favorite novels that make use of it?

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Tuesday Review: The Importance of Being Wicked


The Importance of Being Wicked
By Miranda Neville
Publisher: Avon
Release Date: November 27, 2012

Caroline Brotherton, who is introduced in the novella “The Second Seduction of a Lady,” was a romantic seventeen-year-old when she eloped with Robert Townsend. Seven years later, Caro is a widow with little more than a scandalous reputation, enormous debt, and memories of a marriage that had its happy moments but also its troubling ones as Robert’s addiction to gambling consumed his fortune and eventually his life. Caro is preparing to take on a new role. She is to chapherone her young cousin, the heiress Anne Brotherton, during a visit to London.

Thomas Fitzcharles, Duke of Castleton, is a conservative, staid gentleman very conscious of his duty to his name and his family. He belongs to a long line of aristocrats who have married well and improved the family coffers. The fact that his father departed from the tradition makes it imperative that the current duke marry an heiress. Anne Brotherton seems perfect for his purpose, and Castleton is prepared to make her his duchess.

Appearances lead to the conclusion that Caro and Castleton are opposites, and thus it should come as no surprise to any experienced reader of romance fiction that the two fall in lust at first sight. Less predictable is that Caro proves to be less shallow than she appears and Castleton less bound by convention than one might suppose. Neville gives her readers a story that fits the deceptive externals of her characters: what appears to be mere froth and sizzle upon closer examination reveals unexpected subtlety and complexity.

Caro is another Neville heroine with an interesting history that makes her choices comprehensible even when they make her less than a fully sympathetic character. Brought up by a domineering mother, disowned by her family upon her elopement, abandoned emotionally by her irresponsible husband even before his death, she is loyal to those who have become in effect her family. Her near obsessive attachment to the valuable Titian is more logical when the reader understands that the painting affirms that Robert Townsend once loved her. Her immaturity is a correctable flaw, as the story shows, and her intelligence, humor, and warmth are always in evidence, offsetting less positive qualities.

Castleton can be sober and contained, but it is clear fairly early that he has a sense of humor that includes the ability to laugh at himself, hardly a characteristic of a hero who truly deserves the epithet with which Caro endows him. I loved the exchange after Castleton overhears Caro use her name for him.

“I don't like to be particular,” Thomas went on, “but that really should be the Duke of Stuffy, you know. Or, if you insist on ceremony, His Stuffiness.”

Her smile stretched into a delighted grin. “No formality between friends, surely. I shall simply call you Stuffy.”

It sometimes seems to me that far too few couples in romance novel share a sense of humor. I believe laughing together is a prime requirement for the level of intimacy required for an HEA in which I can believe. These lines went a long way toward helping me believe that Caro and Castleton would give me the kind of ending for which I always hope.

Miranda Neville has consistently proved to be one of those authors whose books have added value. I find her characters engaging and her stories interesting and intelligent, and I also find her fictional worlds places where I like to linger because they are always different in significant ways from the norm of historical romance. The Importance of Being Wicked is the first book in the Wild Quartet. I’m eager to see what’s next in the series.


How important do you think a sense of humor is in relationships? Is humor a quality you look for in fictional characters?

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Tuesday Review: The Second Seduction of a Lady


The Second Seduction of a Lady
By Miranda Neville
Publisher: Avon Impulse
Release Date: 
October 16, 2012

Eleanor Hardwick is an independent woman with a great respect for common sense and very little respect for the institution of marriage. Thanks to an inheritance from her mother, she enjoys an income of five hundred pounds a year. She spends her money as she likes, and she travels six months of every year for extended visits with relatives. Currently she is visiting in Somerset, having responded to an urgent summons from her father’s second cousin, the Honorable Mrs. George Brotherton, whose detestable character Eleanor can tolerate only because such tolerance is the price she must pay to enjoy the company of her delightful seventeen-year-old cousin, Caroline Brotherton. Eleanor gives an occasional thought to a time five years earlier when, as she was on the threshold of sensible spinsterhood, for a brief time her common sense deserted her and she thought herself as wildly in love as even the romantic Caro could hope for. But no one else knows of the wayward memories that she quickly suppresses when they surface.

Max Quentin is spending a few weeks in Somerset winding up his guardianship of young Robert Townsend, who is looking forward to his twenty-first birthday. Max has spent five years regretting a foolish bet that he accepted against his better instincts because he needed the money. How could he have known that the lady he’d bet he could seduce into granting a kiss would be the very woman whose grace and intelligence seduced him into thoughts of marriage? The lady’s discovery of the bet put an end to Max’s plans for the future, but he has never stopped longing for a second chance.  He just never expected to find the lady of his dreams taking a stroll on Townsend property.

Max may be pleased when he realizes the woman who reminded him of Eleanor actually is Eleanor, but Eleanor wants nothing to do with him. He greets her with open arms; she greets him by shoving him into the river. But even a plunge into cold water is not enough to cool Max’s ardor. Fate has given him a second chance to seduce Eleanor into marriage, and this time he’s determined to succeed. Meanwhile, Eleanor thinks young Townsend is just the person for Caro’s first innocent flirtation, and Max thinks if Robert harmlessly flirts with Caro, Max will have more time in Eleanor’s company. Can they have forgotten how real and impetuous young love can be?

Miranda Neville has become one of my never-fail authors. Both Max and Eleanor are intelligent strong-minded, and imperfect, qualities I associate with most of Neville’s characters. I loved them both and particularly enjoyed that they were a bit older than the typical hero and heroine. Reunion romances are my favorites, in part because I like a hero and heroine who share a history. And this second seduction is marvelous.In fact, the only thing that I regretted about this story was that the reader didn’t see more of the first seduction. “The Second Seduction of a Lady” is a novella, a mere six chapters, and it serves as a prequel to The Importance of Being Wicked, the first book in Neville's new late-Georgian quartet about art collectors. I wanted more of Max and Eleanor. I would have been happy with a full-length novel.

The novella releases today. It’s a bargain read at $1.99, and it includes a two-chapter excerpt of The Importance of Being Wicked, which is set for release on November 27, with Caro as the heroine. I’ve read TIOBW and adored it. That review will be coming soon. For now, I do recommend “The Second Seduction of a Lady.” It’s a delicious souspeçon, an appetizer for the terrific main dish of a story that’s six weeks from release
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Prequel novellas are becoming quite popular. Do you like them, or do they leave you wishing for a fuller story?


Monday, July 4, 2011

Tuesday Review: The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton


The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton
By Miranda Neville
Publisher: Avon
Release Date: July 26, 2011
Five Stars

Things look bleak for Celia Seaton when she’s an unemployed governess without recommendation or reputation, but worse turns to worst when she finds herself kidnapped, robbed, stripped to her skimpy shift, and left alone in the attic of a moorland cottage to think about what her captor’s return may mean. But with a little prayer, a lot of daring, and a new determination to end her people-pleasing, rule-following ways, Celia escapes. When she tries to get inside the cottage to search for something to cover herself, she finds the doorway blocked by the unconscious body of a man wearing only breeches and boots.

To her surprise, the body is that of Mr. Tarquin Compton, “the ton’s most fashionable gentleman,” equally famous for his “exquisite taste and poisonous tongue.” When she realizes that a blow to his head has left Tarquin with no memory of who he is, the temptation to wreak revenge on the man who publicly compared her to a cauliflower is irresistible. She tells him he is Terence Fish, a clergyman and her betrothed. What follows is a delightful journey from the Yorkshire moors to the world where Tarquin belongs and Celia decidedly does not. “Terence” turns out to be a man with a kind heart, a sense of humor, and some surprising skills. Tarquin’s proximity, a novel (The Genuine and Remarkable Amours of the Celebrated Author Peter Aretin), and growing intimacies with her “betrothed” begin Celia’s “amorous education.”

Celia thinks of her time with “Terence” as an idyll, but idylls by definition are brief and episodic. Tarquin recovers his memory and his arrogance, and pastoral bliss is replaced by civilization. Life becomes complicated by social realities and determined villains. Can love triumph over social realities, interfering relatives, and pride? Since this is a romance, we know the answer to that question; but the journey to this HEA is well worth taking,

 Why did I love this book? Let me count the ways, five of them at least.

1.     Celia

Strength in heroines can take many forms, and Celia’s stout heart, ready sense of humor, and refusal to be daunted by all that life throws at her make up a strength I can believe in and relate to. A lesser person would be paralyzed by self-pity, but Celia soldiers on through dismissal, kidnapping, hunger, and heartbreak. I especially love the divided Celias. Sensible Celia and Besotted Celia pull in opposite directions: “Sensible Celia wanted Tarquin only if she could be sure their marriage wouldn’t leave her a sad neglected shadow in his godlike glory. Besotted Celia just wanted him, at any time, under any conditions.”


2.     Tarquin

He is a dandy, an aloof soul, and a wit who is carelessly cruel, but there are reasons for the image he presents to his world. When the garments that define him are stripped away, a very different man emerges. And even when he becomes Tarquin Compton again, he is not the man he was. I fell in love with him when he looked at Celia, found her “neither plain nor pretty,” doubted that he could ever have fallen in love with her at first sight, but acknowledges that he could have fallen in love with her after knowing her long enough to appreciate her courage, her quick wit, and her humor. That sounds to me like a much more promising foundation for a lifetime together.

3.     The humor

Some books give me the feeling that I can almost see the author’s smile beyond the pages. This was such a book. I felt as if Miranda Neville had as much fun writing the book as I was having reading it. Much of the humor, like the novel itself, is character-driven, my favorite kind. For example, Celia, having great fun with Terence Fish, cries, “Can you have forgotten the sweet moment when I promised to be yours?” Tarquin thinks, “Good God. Could he possibly be the kind of man who went in for sweet moments?” 

4.     The epigrams

I’m not a big fan of prefatory matter for each chapter. Sometimes they add to the story, but more often I just find them distracting. But I loved the twisted proverbs that Neville uses. From the first one, “Never get into a cart with a strange man,” they had me chuckling. My favorite is for chapter 31: “When it comes to a book, the good bits are always worth reading again.” That just works on so many levels.

5.     The title

The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton reminded me immediately of the movie The Amorous Adventures of Moll Flanders (1965), based on Daniel Defoe’s The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders (1722). Moll’s story is far more scandalous and adventure-filled than Celia’s, but both characters engage in activities forbidden rule-following women, both rise from humble origins to a much higher social station, and both eventually find happiness with their one true love. What can I say? You can take the English professor away from literary fiction, but you can’t take allusion hunting away from the professor.


This is the third book in Amanda Neville’s Burgundy Club series, following The Wild Marquis and The Dangerous Viscount. The three books are connected by the role of books and by recurring characters, but each is distinctly its own tale, well able to function as a stand-alone book. The Burgundy Club has become one of my favorite series because of Neville’s superb characterization and her ability to bring a freshness to a subgenre that often suffers from the affliction of sameoldness.  The Amorous Education of Celia Seaton—it is funny, tender, with the spice of difference—and did I say hot? I give it a bells-and-whistles recommendation.