A Regency romance Is always so much fun – and also always so infuriating. Society’s rules were strict, harsh, often cruel and unforgiving, and swiftly enforced without mercy. If you were not born to the aristocracy, a member of the ton, you were “beneath.” And if you were a woman, a member of society or not, you were under the so-called protection but actually the thumb of your father, brother, uncle, grandfather . . . almost all men had power over you. Not be punished, banished, ostracized, literally thrown out with nothing if you broke the rules or made your protector mad? Good luck with that. Not be told what to do, what to wear, who to see, who to marry – good luck with that, too. And marry for love? Ha, ha, ha. Marriages were brokered deals for the benefit of the men, for acquisition of land, power, money. Only widows had any autonomy because they were already ruined so society just didn’t care.

Celeste Worsley has been raised to be a future duchess. She’s only welcome in society by the grace of her grandfather, who agrees to see her through the Seasons in the ton and relieve her parents of their debt to him if Celeste marries a man of her grandfather’s choosing. Doesn’t sound much like grace, does it? Her grandfather is the Duke of Exehill and banished his own daughter when she married a man of her own choosing. He agreed to loan them funds to rebuild after a fire but the condition is Celeste’s marriage. Celeste wants her parents to be free so she agrees. She knows she won’t have any input into who her husband will be, but if that is the price to pay for her parents’ happiness, so be it.

There’s the little matter, though, of that unimaginably handsome, appealing Malcolm Hollandale, a chemist and one of the infamous self-made Millionaires of Mayfair. She’s loved him from the moment she first saw him (and that’s the best part of a romance novels: love is instant, from afar, and lasts a lifetime! Who wouldn’t swoon over that? It’s magical.). He’s always aloof around her and being a millionaire by no means makes him an accepted member of society, so she knows it’s hopeless to let herself imagine for even a minute that he could ever be her husband. Or reciprocate her feelings.

When the opportunity presents itself for a bit of naughty, wonderful, spicy time together – complete with kittens – she refuses to let it pass her by. This may be her only chance to experience something real with the man of her dreams, she may be married to one of her grandfather’s cronies soon for all she knows, and she makes it clear to Malcolm what she feels and what she wants.

Celeste is adorable. Honest, forthright, loyal, dependable, loving. And we get a little insight into her personality when she inwardly bristles at the part of her maid’s marriage vows that says, “I now pronounce you man and wife.” Why can’t it be, “I now pronounce you a couple dedicated to each other.” Equals, supporting each other.

Malcolm is the perfect hero, and perfect for Celeste. He’s not aloof, he has very definitely noticed her. But what he thought was snobbery on her part was shyness and discomfort. Now that they’ve cleared that up . . . . She loves the work he does and wants to be at his side helping, she feels valued and desired when she is around him – and he’s pretty darn good looking. He cherishes her, loves her mind, her spirit, her body. Yep, these two belong together. The scenes with them are so enjoyable – sweet, funny, steamy. But there is the evil Duke of Exehill to contend with and he has plans. Plans that are not for anyone’s benefit but his own. Can he be thwarted?

Author Janna MacGregor never fails to tell a delightful story that draws you in and thrills you from first page to last. Wonderful characters, wonderfully evil villains, perfectly-paced plot and just enough suspense before that HEA to keep things interesting. Thanks to the author for providing an advance copy of The Duchess of Drury Lane as part of her review crew. I love all her books, including this one, and recommend without hesitation. I voluntarily leave this review; all opinions are my own. ( )