Eleanor Doughty’s Heirs and Graces is an ambitious, meticulously researched exploration of the British aristocracy since the Second World War. With over 650 pages of narrative, this book moves beyond mere genealogy to offer a panoramic view of a class that continues to fascinate — and frustrate — modern Britain. 
Doughty, a journalist with deep experience covering titled families for British newspapers, brings both enthusiasm and expertise to her subject. Drawing on interviews, estate visits, visitors’ books, and archival detail, she weaves together portraits of dukes, earls, baronets and their heirs, illuminating how tradition, privilege, wealth and identity intersect in a world that most readers will never inhabit. 
One of the book’s greatest strengths is its breadth: from ancestral manor houses to the economics of maintaining them; from the rites of aristocratic schooling and primogeniture to the very personal stories of inheritance disputes, marriages, and eccentric customs. Doughty shows how an aristocracy once defined by inherited wealth and political power has adapted into a more complex social class — one that includes financiers and farmers as well as idle landowners — yet still clings to its peculiar rites and hierarchies. 
Critically, the book has been praised for its depth of research and engaging anecdotal detail. Commentators from the Financial Times and figures such as Julian Fellowes (creator of Downton Abbey) commend its vivid and revealing account of aristocratic life. Doughty’s narrative often elicits amusement and surprise, especially in her portrayal of how titled individuals see themselves and the world around them. 
However, not all readers find the book entirely successful. Some critics argue that the sheer volume of names, nicknames and lineage minutiae can weigh the narrative down, making it harder for a general reader to stay engaged with the human stories beneath the pedantry. According to one reviewer, the abundance of dynastic detail sometimes overshadows the emotional or thematic threads that might make the book more universally compelling. 
Despite this, Heirs and Graces remains a fascinating and authoritative survey of a social class that, while diminished in formal power, still captures public imagination and cultural intrigue. Doughty neither romanticises nor lambasts her subjects; instead, she presents their world with a clear-eyed curiosity that invites readers to question what hereditary privilege means in a supposedly meritocratic age. 
Overall, Heirs and Graces is an essential read for anyone interested in British social history, class identity, and the enduring allure (and oddities) of the aristocracy — even if its scholarly density may be challenging for some.