Spotlight & Giveaway: Hardly a Gentleman by Eloisa James

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Eloisa James to HJ!

Hi Eloisa and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Hardly a Gentleman!

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

HARDLY A GENTLEMAN is a story about a bookish, scandal-ridden heroine who flees London after a truly catastrophic season, complete with a drunken prince and a ripped bodice. Clara, desperate for escape, impulsively poses as a housekeeper headed for a crumbling Scottish castle.
Enter Caelan, a grumpy, widowed laird who claims to be more interested in whiskey and fly-fishing than romance. He quickly realizes Clara is not a housekeeper and finds himself completely captivated.

At its heart, this book is about rebuilding not just castles, but lives, and what it takes to open your heart to love.
 

Please share your favorite line(s) or quote from this book:

“You’re hardly a gentleman,” she whispered, cupping his face in her hands and kissing him, “but I’m hardly a lady, either.”

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

Caelan has a habit of fly-fishing naked, adding a cheeky twist to his grumpy ways. Clara designs her own animal-shaped reticules (handbags). Clara’s best friend is Torie from VISCOUNT IN LOVE (book 1).

What first attracts your Hero to the Heroine and vice versa?

What first attracts Caelan to Clara is how completely different she is from any proper lady he’s ever met. He is a gruff, practical guy who likes his whiskey and solitude, but there is something intriguing about Clara’s fairytale way of looking at the world that attracts him almost instantly. For Clara, she likes how Caelan not only tolerates her love of books and wild ideas, but joins in on the conversation, sharing his thoughts, and even a bit of whiskey. They make each other feel things they have never felt before, discovering that love can be both passionate and deeply comforting.

Did any scene have you blushing, crying or laughing while writing it? And Why?

That first encounter between Clara and Caelan definitely made me smile… maybe even blush a little! There is something wonderfully awkward and charming about meeting someone while they are completely naked and fishing in a Scottish loch. Clara is stunned by this giant of a man (and she notices everything), and Caelan is instantly certain that Clara is no housekeeper. One of my favorite parts from that scene is when Clara, surprised but enjoying the view, hasn’t even said hello yet. Then Caelan finally catches a fish:

“Oh, bravo!” Clara shouted, not thinking—until she heard herself, after which she wanted to die of shame. Before she could turn away, he pivoted to face her, water frothing around his thick thighs.
My goodness.
He was . . .
Both hands slapped over her eyes, but every detail of Prince George’s Roman vase—that lascivious brute!—came clearly to mind.
Mylchreest was famous for walking across the London stage without a shirt. The Scotsman’s shoulders and chest were twice the size of the actor’s, and he was just as handsome. But the . . . that part of him?
She had suspected the Roman vase exaggerated a man’s parts. This Scotsman was considerably less worrisome.
Less fearsome.
From the point of view of a virgin, anyway.

Readers should read this book….

Readers should read this book because Caelan and Clara are anti-heroes compared to the novels of their time. Their story is a celebration of love in all its messy, joyful, and delightfully improper glory.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have in the works?

Right now, I am thrilled to be a part of an anthology called LADIES IN WAITING: JANE AUSTEN’S UNSUNG CHARACTERS, coming out November 4th. It is a collection of reimagined stories starring some of Ausen’s forgotten characters, from Caroline Bingley to Eliza Williams. My story is inspired by SENSE & SENSIBILITY. We all remember the older girls (one with sense and one without)– but what about their younger sister? Margaret’s story is delicious and funny, and I’ll just say that sometimes what you have been looking for is right in front of you all along.
My next full-length novel, THE LAST LADY B, comes out May 12, 2026. It is a swoony story set in the Scottish Highlands about Lady Genevieve Hughes, who finds herself navigating ghosts, secrets, and a surprising new love!
 

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: 3 Print copies of HARDLY A GENTLEMAN by Eloisa James 

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: When a heroine in romance novels defies traditional expectations, does it make the story more or less compelling for you? Why or why not?

 
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Excerpt from Hardly a Gentleman:

When the Honorable Miss Clara Vetry’s fourth Season came to an abrupt and ignominious end at a garden party thrown by the Countess of Jersey, everyone in the beau monde agreed that she had no one to blame but herself.

She could have headed off disgrace in any number of ways—by jumping into the Thames, for example, or by throwing herself over a hedge into a neighboring garden. By dropping into a dead faint . . . or even dying on the spot.

But assaulting a future king?

Not recommended.

“Leave the room the moment Prince George enters,” her mother, Lady Vetry, had ordered at the beginning of the Season. “His attentions are disastrous.”

Clara was already in the habit of running from His Majesty; ever since Clara caught the Prince of Wales’s eye at her debut ball, the man never stopped hunting her. Every Season he’d grown bolder in his pursuit, more avid in his attentions, wetting his fat little lips in a manner that he apparently considered provocative. One of the lowest points of the previous Season had occurred at Carlton House, when His Majesty drew her aside to admire a Roman vase featuring men with extremely large (and erect) private parts.

She was cautiously dancing a quadrille while trying not to topple off the raised dance floor onto the grass when a butler emerged from the house.

“Attend! His Royal Highness, Prince George Augustus Frederick of Wales,” the butler bawled. He cleared his throat. “Accompanied by Caroline, Princess of Wales.”

Excited chatter replaced the music, but Clara didn’t care why Her Majesty was accompanying her estranged husband to an event hosted by his mistress, Lady Jersey.

Her heart plummeted, and panic fluttered in her stomach as she and other guests stepped down from the wooden dance floor. No sanctuary could be seen, since the garden was enclosed by tall flowering hedges running down to the Thames. And her mother, Lady Vetry, had retreated indoors to chat with other chaperones.

Horrifyingly, His Majesty caught sight of her and began waving, his red face and unsteady gait suggesting he was already drunk. When His Majesty was sober, he gawked at Clara’s bosom and paid her lavish compliments, but when he was drunk, he was insufferable.

Arguably, at this point Clara should have turned about, run to the bottom of the garden and thrown herself into the Thames. Instead she froze like a fictional heroine encountering a ghoul.
Lady Jersey hastened toward His Majesty, arms outstretched, uttering little squeals of joy, but the prince tottered down the short flight of steps from the terrace, walking straight past his mistress as if he didn’t see her. All the guests sank into bows and curtsies as His Majesty skirted the dance floor, ignoring them and beaming at Clara.

Despair gripped her, and bollocks, bollocks, bollocks! went through her mind—that being the rudest word that she knew.

“Miss Cherry Vetry!” His Majesty boomed, as he bowed with a wobbly flourish. “My favorite cherub.”

A compliment that was only marginally better than his usual assertion that if she were an actress, he would have bought her a circlet of diamonds by now. Along with her virtue, presumably.

“Where have you been hiding? I find you more ravishing than ever.” George’s eyes fastened on her cleavage. “I approve of this gown.” His voice fell to a throaty whisper. “I would venture to say that I am enthralled by its . . . elegance.”

Elegance? He was enthralled by her scanty French bodice.

“Miss Clara Vetry, Your Highness,” she murmured, dropping into a curtsy that unfortunately lured him to step closer and gawp at breasts no cherub possessed.

“I know, but you remind me of cherry brandy,” His Majesty replied, slurring. “It’s m’favorite.”
She could have guessed, since the odor was not merely floating from his breath but emanating from his entire body.

“Don’t say another Season began and . . .” he cast a furtive glance at his wife “. . . you are still unmarried? The men of this country are fools. A Frenchman would have jumped to it, though of course most of the good ones were beheaded a decade ago.”

Clara had paled from anxiety, but now she felt herself turning a sweaty puce.

“Who wouldn’t want to marry you? You’ve the figure of a pocket Venus. A most delightful arse.” He hiccupped. “If you were an actress—or at the least, married—I’d buy you a house.”

Despair pooled in her gut like acid. There went her fourth Season the way of her first three. A man would have to be daft to court a woman so obviously heralded as a prince’s next mistress.
Clara cleared her throat. “Your Majesty, please—”

He bent close to her ear and whispered, “You need a moment in the limelight, since you’re having trouble popping off the market. My good deed for the day.”

“Please don’t,” Clara gasped.

To her utter horror, he snatched her hand and stepped up to the dance floor, dragging her with him.

“Silence!” he bellowed. “I’ve a mind to entertain.”

A Mozart sonata halted in mid-note as the musicians put down their instruments. Out of the corner of her eye, Clara saw Princess Caroline coming down the steps from the terrace. Her heart pounded in her throat, and blood rushed to her head so quickly that she felt dizzy. “I—I—”
“I give you . . . a ballad!” Without further introduction, Prince George opened his mouth and sang, “‘Cherry ripe, cherry ripe.’”

Clara flinched, thinking that he couldn’t possibly be referring to her breasts? Or worse, her nipples?

He sucked in a breath and continued with surprising tunefulness, “‘Cherry ripe! Ripe I cry. Full and fair ones, come and buy.’”

In case anyone was confused by the implication of “full and fair ones,” he waved his free hand in the general area of Clara’s bosom. Guests, musicians, and waiters turned speculative eyes to her cleavage. The princess, who was herself quite buxom, squinted before her brows drew together into a scowl.

Clara was seized by panic. Sweat broke out all over her body, including on her upper lip, where everyone would see it. She stared at the prince, unable to believe that this was truly happening. He had put her up for sale.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

New York Times bestselling author Eloisa James returns to the Accidental Brides series with a romance about a forced marriage between a feisty heroine and a Scottish laird… neither of whom have plans to marry, let alone fall in love.

Desperate after her Season comes to a spectacularly disastrous end, the Honorable Miss Clara Vetry jumps into a carriage hired to take a housekeeper to Scotland.

The laird of Castle CaerLaven has no interest in a wife, especially a love match—but when Caelan sees his new housekeeper, he changes his mind. Marriage to a delectable bookworm strikes him as a perfect arrangement.

To his surprise, Clara refuses his proposal once…and again…yet again.

When her true identity is revealed, and they’re forced to marry, Caelan realizes he has a far more crucial challenge.

He finally has Clara’s hand—but how will he ever win her heart?
Book Links:  Amazon | B&N |
 
 

Meet the Author:

Eloisa has published over 30 historical romances, many of which have hit the bestseller lists. She also wrote a bestselling memoir, Paris in Love, as well as a contemporary novel, Lizzie and Dante. Her books are published in 28 languages and 30 countries, from Slovakia to Sweden. Worldwide, she has approximately 7 million books published in print or electronically. She lives in New York City and Florence, Italy.
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