LADY AUGUST

In Michaels’ Regency romance, a young woman becomes an unexpected heiress.

Young August Summer is languishing in a low-intensity relationship with handsome curate Henry Fitzgerald, who seems to be in no hurry to marry her. Into this uneventful life comes an unexpected bombshell. From his deathbed in the countryside, Lord Bolton instructs his solicitor, Samuel Brooks, to seek out his nonmarital daughter—August. Lord Bolton has never seen the girl, but he fears he will not rest in peace if he doesn’t acknowledge and care for her, so he plans to install her at his ancestral home of Linfield Hall, 30 miles outside of London, right alongside his other children, Charles and Rosamund. He intends to establish her in his world by, among other things, settling an enormous fortune on her (society loves an unexpected heiress, he quips). Samuel is initially appalled by the arrangement; he’s doubtful that such a drastic change will be in anybody’s best interest. Nevertheless, he carries out his commission and contacts August, who’s astonished—and naturally worried about how her half siblings will react to her arrival at the hall. Her sudden vulnerability affects Samuel more than he expected. When readers initially meet him, he’s opposed to the idea of marriage, but he finds his feelings for August steadily blooming even though his ambivalence is only deepened when his task expands to acclimating August to the rarefied atmosphere of the very rich. Their growing attraction is complicated by her half brother’s decision to consign August to the care of her aunt, a dowager duchess dogged by rumors of her own.

The novel is a welter of plotlines and classic Regency tropes. Michaels dives straight into some of the best-known romance conceits, from the Cinderella aspects of August’s sudden rise from poverty to the oddball relationship with an unconventional older character to the confirmed-bachelor-finds-his-true-love device. Michaels imbues these storytelling elements with verve; the book’s narrative drive is strong even in its opening moves and only grows stronger as the tale builds. The main characters are all drawn with a clear, vibrant energy, and even the book’s villains, including, to an extent, August’s half brother, are given a refreshing complexity. Michaels’ strongest gift is pacing. The book jogs along from ball to dinner to carriage ride, and even the scenes in which characters pause and talk manage to contain a good deal of plot furthering. There are darker plot points along the way—Michaels doesn’t shy away from some of the uglier aspects of her time period—but these moments fall away. And although the basic architecture of that plot is very straightforwardly simple—“going from the governess to member of the ton was no easy feat” neatly sums up the bulk of it—it’s pursued with a zest that makes for easy, pleasant reading, all moving with propulsive certainty to pretty much exactly the climax that seasoned Regency readers will expect.

An intelligent, involving story of a Regency Cinderella finding a new life and true love.