Lady Claire Is All That by Maya Rodale Review

Lady Claire Is All That
Keeping Up with the Cavendishes #3

By: Maya Rodale

Releasing December 27, 2016
Avon

Tour Host: Tasty Book Tours

Her Brains

Claire Cavendish is in search of a duke, but not for the usual reasons. The man she seeks is a mathematician; the man she unwittingly finds is Lord Fox: dynamic, athletic, and as bored by the equations Claire adores as she is by the social whirl upon which he thrives. As attractive as Fox is, he’s of no use to Claire . . . or is he?

Plus His Brawn

Fox’s male pride has been bruised ever since his fiancée jilted him. One way to recover: win a bet that he can transform Lady Claire, Society’s roughest diamond, into its most prized jewel. But Claire has other ideas—shockingly steamy ones. . .

Equals A Study In Seduction

By Claire’s calculations, Fox is the perfect man to satisfy her sensual curiosity. In Fox’s estimation, Claire is the perfect woman to prove his mastery of the ton. But the one thing neither of them counted on is love . . .

So we are back with Maya Rodale's Cavendishes series and I was excited to get stuck in.

So this book centers around Lady Claire Canvendish; who is the oldest and the  bluestocking of the family; but her highly intelligent mind and Math talk bores the men of her acquaintances to tears. But Lady Claire has plans, she wants to meet the Duke of Ashbrooke, in order to talk about his new invention, but you can't just walk up to someone and talk to them about that, not as a women anyway. The only way to be able to talk to the Duke, is to make friends with Lord Fox, which is easier side than done, if she hadn't insulted him the first time they had met!

Maximilian DeVere, Lord Fox; was a handsome man, and a man that was used to getting his own way, but when his fiancée ran off with another man, it left him is a rather embarrassing predicament. But like all idiot men, Fox enters in to a wager...his goal is to help bumbling, bluestocking, and wallflower, Lady Claire Canvendish in to a sparking diamond of the first water.

But even though Claire and Fox entered into this unusual arrangement, in order to fulfill their own needs; it turns into much more for both of them...even when it seems someone who is supposed to be a friend is plotting against them, their romance blooms, but when Fox's ex fiancé returns, where do that leave them.

 I have to say, that Maya Royale, has truly knocked it out of the park with this book. I found her plot charming and unique, which I enjoy it immensely. Her writing is superb, and I have to say that I have really begun to enjoy her writing style A LOT!

But, oh the characters! They are superb!! Fox is the cocky aristocrat, who relies on his charm a little too much, but quickly realizes just how much of a gem Lady Claire is. Oh and Lady Claire! Oh my! She is my favorite Canvendish so far! I love her intelligence and her bluntness! She is so logical and clever! And I can totally relate to her character!

Over all, Lady Claire Is All That is just an enjoyable and heartwarming read, that once I started it it couldn't put if down!

I give Lady Claire Is All That 5 stars!

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London, 1824

Lord and Lady Chesham’s ballroom

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Maximilian Frederick DeVere, Lord Fox, was God’s gift to the ladies of London. He was taller and brawnier than his peers and in possession of the sort of chiseled good looks—above and below the neck—that were more often found in works of classical art. By all accounts he was charming and universally liked by men and women alike, though for different reasons, of course. He won at two things, always: women and sport.

Fox strolled through the ballroom as if he owned the place. He nodded at friends and acquaintances—Carlyle, with whom he occasionally fenced, Fitzwalter, who he had soundly thrashed at boxing last week, and Willoughby, who was always game for a curricle race.

Fox flashed his famous grin as he heard the ladies’ usual comments when he strolled past.

“I think he just smiled at me.”

“I think I’m going to swoon.”

“God, Arabella Vaughn is one lucky woman.”

“Was,” someone corrected. “Didn’t you see the report in The London Weekly this morning?”

Fox’s grin faltered.

That was when Mr. Rupert Wright and Lord Mowbray found him. Their friendship stretched all the way back to their early days at Eton.

“We heard the news, Fox,” Rupert said grimly, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I daresay everyone has heard the news,” Fox replied dryly.

It didn’t escape his notice that the guests nearby had fallen silent. It was the first time he’d appeared in public since the news broke in the paper this morning, though Arabella had so kindly left him a note the day prior. Everyone was watching him to see how he would react, what he would say, if he would cry.

“Who would have thought we’d see this day?” Mowbray mused. “Miss Arabella Vaughn, darling of the haute ton, running off with an actor.”

“That alone would be scandalous,” Rupert said, adding, “Never mind that she has ditched Fox. Who is, apparently, considered a catch. What with his lofty title, wealth, and not hideous face.”

Fox’s Male Pride bristled. It’d been bristling and seething and enraged ever since the news broke that his beautiful, popular betrothed had left him to elope with some plebian actor.

Not just any actor, either, but Lucien Kemble. Yes, he was the current sensation among the haute ton, lighting up the stage each night in his role as Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. Covent Garden theater was sold out for the rest of the season. The gossip columns loved him, given his flair for dramatics both onstage and off—everything from tantrums to torrid love affairs to fits over his artistry. Women adored him; they may have sighed and swooned over Lucien Kemble as much as Fox.

To lose a woman to any other man was insupportable—and, until recently, not something that ever happened to him—but to lose her to someone who made his living prancing around onstage in tights? It was intolerable.

“Just who does she think she is?” Fox wondered aloud.

“She’s Arabella Vaughn. Beautiful. Popular. Enviable. Every young lady here aspires to be her. Every man here would like a shot with her,” Mowbray answered.

“She’s you, but in petticoats,” Rupert said, laughing.

It was true. He and Arabella were perfect together.

Like most men, he’d fallen for her at first sight after catching a glimpse of her across a crowded ballroom. She was beautiful in every possible way: a tall, lithe figure with full breasts; a mouth made for kissing and other things that gentlemen didn’t mention in polite company; blue eyes fringed in dark lashes; honey gold hair that fell in waves; a complexion that begged comparisons to cream and milk and moonlight.

Fox had taken one look at her and thought: mine.

How did you come up with the concept and the characters for the story?

All the novels in my Keeping Up With The Cavendishes series are inspired by my favorite romantic comedies.  Lady Claire Is All That is based on the 90’s rom com She’s All That. Basically, I write stories that I want to read—funny, witty, happy ever afters—and I delight in seeing mash ups of modern times and pop culture with historical romance.

What gave you the most trouble with this story?

The heroine of Lady Claire Is All That is a math genius and I am...not. At all. There isn’t much math in the novel (phew!) but what does appear is thanks to one of my dearest romance writing friends Caroline Linden, who happens to have a math degree from Harvard.

Name one thing you won’t leave home without.

Besides the obvious phone, wallet, keys, etc, I never leave home without my lipgloss. I’m addicted! My husband hates it.

Name three things on your desk right now.

Three things always on my desk: laptop, phone, caffeinated beverage.

A la Twitter style, please describe your book in 140 characters or less.

In Lady Claire Is All That sparks fly between a brainy heroine and the hot jock of the haute ton in this Regency remake of the rom com She’s All That!

What types of scenes are your most favorite to write?

I love writing the funny, teasing, loving banter between the four siblings in my Keeping Up With The Cavendishes series. Writing some good flirtation between the hero and heroine is also a favorite of mine.

How long have you been writing, and what (or who) inspired you to start?

I’ve been writing romance novels for about twelve years now (though I’ve been writing for longer than that). Then, and now, I write the book that I’m in the mood to read because I’m still a reader first!

What do you like best about being a writer? What is the most challenging part?

The best part of being a writer is not having to wear pants or interact with humans. The hardest part is when I have to put on pants and interact with humans J

Maya Rodale began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence and it wasn’t long before she was writing her own. Maya is now the author of multiple Regency historical romances. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.

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Chasing Lady Amelia by Maya Rodale Review

Chasing Lady Amelia
Keeping Up with the Cavendishes #2

By: Maya Rodale

Releasing June 28, 2016
Avon

 

In the second novel of Maya Rodale’s enchanting Keeping Up with the Cavendishes series, an American heiress finds her reputation—and heart—in danger when she travels to London and meets a wickedly tempting rake

Terribly Improper

Lady Amelia is fed up with being a proper lady and wishes to explore London, so one night she escapes . . . and finds herself in the company of one Alistair Finlay-Jones. He’s been ordered by his uncle to wed one of the American girls. How lucky, then, that one of them stumbles right into his arms!

Totally Scandalous

Alistair and Amelia have one perfect day to explore London, from Astley’s Amphitheater to Vauxhall Gardens. Inevitably they end up falling in love and making love. If anyone finds out, she will be ruined, but he will win everything he’s ever wanted.

Very Romantic

When Amelia finds out Alistair has been ordered to marry her, he must woo her and win back the angry American girl. But with the threat of scandals, plural, looming . . . will he ever catch up to the woman he loves?

Lady Amelia Cavendish is bored! She is sick of London and she wanted to go home to America, where there was no members of the Ton; who were polite to ones face and made fun of them behind their back.  But because of her brother's new title of Duke kept them in England for good. But after one particular disastrous ball, when Amelia cause a great scandal by taking of her slippers. But when her family decided to give her some laudanum; little did they know that it would inspire a drugged Amelia a midnight stroll through Mayfair; only to be rescued by an unsuspecting newly returned gentleman…Alistair Finlay-Jones.

When Alistair Finlay-Jones was summoned home from his 6 years of freedom (and self imposed exile) by Baron Wrotham; his Uncle, former guardian and the man that holds him responsible for his son's death. Now as his heir, Alistair was told to marry one of those "American" to  fill the coffers of the family. With the guilt still laying heavy on his heart Alistair didn't protest. But what he didn't realize till he returned home, was that the Lady he rescued the night before, is one of his "choices" of bride his uncle demand he marry.

When Amelia awoke in a strange bed, she was worried and maybe a little scared, but that soon changed into  one of the best day that she had ever had in London! And all in the company of Alistair. It was unsurprising maybe, that loved bloomed between them, despite their secrets they kept from each other. But when the day was over and the real world came back and guilt and responsibility laid heavy on Alistair's shoulders. But when the truth comes out about Wrotham's decree and the threat of scandal looms, will Amelia and Alistair be able to find their love again?

I absolutely loved the plot and the writing in this book! I don't think I have ever read a story like this; it was fresh and addictive and oh my goodness! It was simply divine! When I say that I related to the characters, it might honestly be an understatement! I would love to be able to say that if I was ever a character in a romance novel, I would be Lady Amelia! Bringing disaster and mayhem in my wake! Lady Amelia's character truly made the whole book for me! My heart truly bled for Alistair, how horrible for he to be raised by a man like Wrotham. I think I loved every member of the Cavendish family, but I have to say that The Duchess is my favorite.

Chasing Lady Amelia is a magnificent book, which is why I give it 5 stars!

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“Ah, Lady Nansen. Lord Nansen!” The duchess and her charges paused before a couple that looked just like all the others Amelia had been introduced to: they were of an indeterminate middle age, decked in an array of brightly colored silks and satins, and honestly, a bit jowly and gray.

“I haven’t yet introduced you to my nephew and nieces.”

“And we have been dying to make their acquaintance,” Lady Nansen said, fanning herself furiously. “The ton has spoken of nothing else.”

The duchess performed the introductions. Upon meeting James, the new duke, fawning ensued.

Everyone fawned over James these days—but then when his back was turned they whispered about how his father was a horse thief and that James had been raised in the stables and how tragic it was that Durham was now in his hands.

“And Lady Claire.”

Amelia watched as they took in Claire’s spectacles and her distracted, impatient demeanor. She had not mastered the slightly vacant look of a simpering miss and with a brain as sharp as hers, never would. Amelia watched as Lady Nansen decided that Claire would never be an “incomparable,” or whatever they called the popular girls of the ton, and flitted her attention to the next sister.

“Lady Bridget.”

Amelia watched as her middle sister glided into an elegant curtsy. The duchess beamed. Lady Nansen judged.

“Your practicing is paying off,” Amelia murmured. She’d caught Bridget curtsying in front of the mirror in the ballroom for an hour last Thursday.

“Do shut up, Amelia,” Bridget said through gritted teeth. Unlike the other Cavendish siblings,

Bridget actually cared about fitting in here. She was obsessed with learning and following the rules.

“And Lady Amelia.” She gave a smile somewhere between gargoyle and simpering miss, but perhaps more on the gargoyle side of the spectrum.

“You must have your hands full, Duchess, trying to make so many matches.”

“It does give one something to do all day,” the duchess replied, with a tight-lipped smile that

Amelia dubbed the One Where I Am Smiling Even Though I Hate What You Just Said. “But I do have every confidence that they will make splendid matches. In fact, I have someone special in mind for Lady Amelia this evening.”

The duchess beamed at her charges, as if they hadn’t been foiling her every effort to marry them off. Amelia began to dread meeting “someone special.”

“I say, Duke,” Lord Nonesuch or whatever began, “do you have an opinion on any of the horses running Ascot?”

The lords always asked James for his opinion on which horse would win a race, so they might win a wager. And then they turned around and made snide remarks about his experience raising and training horses—as if he were beneath them because of this knowledge. Even though he now outranked them.

“I do,” James said, smiling easily.

“Don’t suppose you’d tell a friend who you think will be the winner?” Lord Nansen or Nancy said jovially, with a wink and a nudge.

“I might,” James replied.

This was a conversation he’d had before and Amelia had begged him to do something nefarious, like deliberately suggest a losing horse. But James refused and just smiled like he knew the winner and never said a word.

“I suppose you’re going to build up Durham’s stables,” his lordship said.

“Nansen, he doesn’t have time for horses,” his wife said in that exasperated way of wives. “He must find a bride first.”

The duchess beamed, an I-told-you-so smile.

Then Lady Nansen turned and fixed her attentions on Amelia. Her fan was beating at a furious pace.

“And Lady Amelia, have you found any suitors you care for?”

“After having met nearly all of England’s finest young gentlemen, I can honestly say that no, I have not found any suitors that I could care for,” Amelia said. “But I do have a new appreciation for spinsterhood. In fact, I think it sounds like just the thing.”

Just the thing was a bit of slang she had picked up. Sticking forks in her eye was just the thing (but only with the good silver!). Flustering old matrons with an honest and direct statement was just the thing.

Lady Nansen stared at her a moment, blinking rapidly as she tried to process what Amelia had just said.

“Well your sister seems to have snared the attentions of Darcy’s younger brother,” she said, evidently disregarding Amelia and focusing on Bridget, the one who cared about fitting in and finding suitors.

“Are Lord Darcy and Mr. Wright here tonight?” Bridge asked eagerly. Too eagerly. “I haven’t seen them.”

“It’s not a party without Darcy,” Amelia quipped.

Darcy spent the majority of every social engagement standing against the wall, glowering at the company, refusing to dance, and begging the question of why he even bothered to attend.

But that was neither here nor there and no one deigned to reply to Amelia, so she sighed and lamented her choice in footwear quietly to herself. When Lord and Lady Nansen took their leave and sauntered off, the duchess turned and fixed her cool, blue eyes on Amelia.

“You might endeavor to be a touch more gracious, Lady Amelia.”

The Duchess always said everything in perfectly worded, excruciatingly polite phrases. Translation: Lord above, Amelia, stop acting like a brat.

“I’m just . . . bored.”

And homesick. And unhappy. And dreading the future you have planned for me. And a dozen other feelings one does not mention when one is at a ball.

“Bored?” The duchess arched her brows. “How on earth can you be bored by all this?” She waved her hand elegantly, to indicate everything surrounding them. “Is all the splendor, music, and the company of the best families in the best country not enough for you? I cannot imagine that you had such elegance and luxuries in the provinces.”

Everyone here still referred to her home country as the provinces, or the colonies, or as the remote American backwater plagued by heathens, when Amelia knew that it was a beautiful country full of forthright, spirited people. It was her true home.

They operated under the impression that there was no greater fun to be had than getting overdressed and gossiping with the same old people each night, in crowded ballrooms in a crowded city.

She missed summer nights back home on their farm in Maryland, when she would slip outside at night with a blanket, to look up at the vast, endless expanse of stars.

This, no matter what the duchess said, just did not compare.

Amelia shrugged.

“We already met half these people at the six other balls we have attended this week,” she said. “The other half are crashing bores.”

Crashing bores was a phrase Amelia had read in the gossip columns. The violence of it appealed to her.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask you to pretend to act like an interested and engaging young lady.” Then, turning to Lady Bridget, the duchess said, “I daresay she couldn’t.”

With that, the duchess turned away.

She turned away, leaving the words hanging in the air, floating to the ground, just waiting for

Amelia to pounce on them.

“Well that was a challenge,” Claire said.

“I’m not certain she could manage it.” Bridget sniffed.

Really? Really?

“Is that a dare?” Amelia asked, straightening up. Oh, she would pretend all right. She would pretend so well they’d all be shocked. It would give her something to do at least. “Because I will take that dare.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Bridget replied. Then, muttering under her breath she added, “For once.”

Amelia reddened. Admittedly she hadn’t been taking this whole sister-of-the-duke business seriously. But she would show them. So instead of sticking her tongue out and scowling at Bridget, Amelia stuck her nose right up in the air and turned away.

Maya Rodale began reading romance novels in college at her mother’s insistence and it wasn’t long before she was writing her own. Maya is now the author of multiple Regency historical romances. She lives in New York City with her darling dog and a rogue of her own.

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