I found this book hard to read because although it’s book 2 of the series, it parallels and interweaves with the plot of book 1 extensively. That book focused on Lord Kendall and Mrs Audeley, whereas this book is primarily about Gyles Audeley and Lady Louisa Lymington, but the first half is the same meeting of Lord Kendall’s family with the Audeleys and their trip to London, with many of the same scenes, just viewed from a different perspective. I found this quite unsettling to read, spending far too much time trying to work out which were the new bits. But then the second half of the book has problems of its own.
Here’s the premise: Lady Louisa Lymington is a wealthy heiress who will come into her inheritance when she’s twenty-one, in just a few months’ time. Her uncle and guardian, however, has a cunning plan to relieve his own pecuniary difficulties by marrying her to his unsavoury pal, who will then slip him a share of the proceeds. Louisa isn’t going to tamely submit to that, so she runs away to Yorkshire, to be governess to the Earl of Kendall’s wards. When Lord Kendall whisks the eldest off to London to be brought out into society, Louisa and the younger girls are also sent for, and thus she returns to the precise place where she least wants to be, in case she is recognised and forced to return to her uncle.
But on the journey south, Lord Kendall has acquired company in the form of Mrs Audeley and her son Gyles. Louisa finds herself powerfully drawn to Gyles, even though she’s forced to avoid him (and everyone!) as much as possible. And when she is inevitably discovered by her uncle and forced to bolt again, it’s Gyles who insists on accompanying her, disguised as a footman, all the way to Paris.
Now, this is the point where I fell out with the book. I like a resourceful heroine as much as the next reader, but I honestly can’t believe in one who sets out to travel to Paris – alone! And set up house there – alone! And finances herself with a small fortune in jewels. No. Just no. Even speaking fluent French and carrying a pistol (and knowing how to use it), I just found it all too implausible for words. And she’s not even particularly grateful to poor, long-suffering Gyles, who stays by her side through thick and thin.
Gyles himself is a lovely hero, and perhaps if there’d been a bit more spark between them, this book could have been redeemed. Sadly, it’s only at the very end that the romance fires up properly, and although it’s nicely done, and there’s a bit of melodrama at the end to liven things up, it was all too late for me.
I don’t know, maybe I’m just in the wrong sort of mood for this sort of frivolity, but whereas book 1 was a charming and delightful read, this felt like a bit of a plodding affair. Still, it’s well written, and if you want to know something about the Empress Josephine and her house and garden at Malmaison, this is the book for you. Three stars.

The one word which summarises this book is charm. It’s a delightful, gentle read, which the author describes as an homage to Georgette Heyer and it really does work pretty well, so for anyone yearning to find a new Heyer, while there’ll never be anyone quite like her, this book is a very acceptable substitute.
The third in the Pevensey series, and another corker. The author is exceptionally skilled at drawing characters with deep family secrets, and at classic murder mysteries; this book (indeed, the whole series) is a stunning combination of both.
After the surprise of the first book, this one came somewhat less out of left field, but it was just as enjoyable. The whole series is inspired by real events in English history, but don’t let that put you off, since the writing is firmly rooted in the Regency.
One of the joys of reading a book for the first time is not knowing precisely what lurks within its pages. Sometimes, in fact most times, if I am being honest, the plot unrolls smoothly and predictably, and that’s fine, too, but sometimes – oh, a glorious few times! – it veers off into unexpected territory. And so it is here.
It’s always interesting to revisit the bad guy from an earlier book and see him reformed and finding his own happiness. It’s a hard act to pull off, and I think the author cheats a little here – we don’t actually see Thomas reform himself, he just appears at the start of the book, several years later, so far reformed that he’s a curate in an impoverished rural parish, now living a blameless life. He’s then given the living at his old home, where everyone remembers him from his wild former existence, and he has an uphill task to convince everyone that yes, he really has changed. And it doesn’t help that a mysterious woman appears and deposits a boy of eight on his doorstep, before disappearing again. Is the boy Thomas’s?
Not as frothy and funny as the first in the series (The Gentleman in the Ash Tree), and more conventionally set against the backdrop of the season, but still a lovely read with two appealing romantic characters, a villainous villain, some surprisingly deep business to do with slavery and a suitably happy ending.
A charming and sweet novella, too short in many ways, but a delightful read.