The Mourning Necklace by Kate Foster

Some people become famous for their remarkable lives and others for their remarkable deaths. Maggie Dickson is one of the latter – although technically, it wasn’t really a death at all! Known as ‘Half-Hangit Maggie’, Maggie Dickson was sentenced to death in 1724 and hanged in Edinburgh’s Grassmarket. As her family gather in a nearby tavern, they are shocked to look up and see Maggie herself standing at the door. Other than a rope burn around her neck, she seems unharmed by her ordeal and determined to make the most of the second chance she’s been given. But while everyone has questions for her – how did she survive and how did it feel to be so close to death? – there’s only one question that matters now to Maggie: will they try to hang her again?

Maggie Dickson was a real person and the story of her survival is a true one, still remembered three hundred years later; Maggie Dickson’s Pub in Edinburgh is named after her and she is often featured in Edinburgh walking tours. In The Mourning Necklace, Kate Foster builds a fictional story around this amazing woman and her near-death experience, using her imagination to fill in the gaps around the historical facts.

The year before she receives her death sentence, Maggie is living with her parents and younger sister, Joan, in Fisherrow, a small fishing community in Musselburgh, Scotland. The Dickson family have made their living from fish for generations, but Maggie doesn’t see a future for herself as a fishwife and wants something different out of life. Her marriage to Patrick Spencer, a perfume trader, seems to offer the opportunities she’s looking for, but when things don’t go according to plan, she takes control of her own fate and sets out alone for London. However, she gets no further than Kelso in the Scottish Borders before she is forced to make a series of decisions that will lead her back to Edinburgh and the gallows.

I enjoyed Kate Foster’s last novel, The King’s Witches, but I thought this one was much better and I connected with Maggie Dickson in a way that I didn’t with the women in the other book. There’s also a strong cast of supporting characters, including Joan, whose actions as a sister disappoint Maggie over and over again; Mrs Rose, who betrays Maggie for reasons of her own but at the same time is one of the few people to offer her friendship; and the wicked Dr McTavish, one of the book’s villains. All of these people have key parts to play in Maggie’s story, which is divided into three sections: the events leading up to her arrest, the hanging itself, and the path her life follows after she escapes death.

Maggie’s crime is something that will surprise a lot of modern readers as, although she unknowingly broke the laws of the time, today we wouldn’t really consider her to have committed a crime at all (at least not if Kate Foster’s interpretation is close to the truth). At first I assumed that as the death sentence was usually given as ‘hanged by the neck until dead’, it would be decided that Maggie had not served the sentence and would be hanged again. However, it wasn’t as straightforward as that because it seems that the sentence at that time was simply ‘hanged by the neck’ and the additional words were added later to avoid ambiguity in cases like hers.

This is a fascinating novel, with some great descriptions of 18th century Musselburgh, Edinburgh and Kelso. We also learn a little bit about the tea smuggling which was widespread down the east coast of Scotland and England due to high taxes on imported tea. I loved it and must find time to go back and read Kate Foster’s first book, The Maiden.

Thanks to Pan Macmillan/Mantle for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

The Art of a Lie by Laura Shepherd-Robinson

I’ve enjoyed all of Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s previous books, particularly The Square of Sevens, so this is one of the new releases I’ve been most looking forward to reading this year. It has many of the same elements as her others – an 18th century setting, a mystery to be solved, lots of surprising plot twists and characters who are not quite as they seem! This one also features ice cream, which makes it a perfect summer read.

The Art of a Lie opens in London in 1749 and the first section is narrated by Hannah Cole, whose husband Jonas was found dead in the street several months earlier, seemingly the victim of a robbery. Since his death, Hannah has continued running their business, a confectionery shop known as the Punchbowl and Pineapple, but is struggling financially. A visit from the magistrate, Henry Fielding – who is also the author of the recently published Tom Jones – brings her some welcome news: Jonas had a large sum of money in his bank account that she knew nothing about. Unfortunately, her excitement is short-lived because Fielding also tells her that he suspects the money was acquired illicitly and that Jonas was probably not just the victim of a random attack as first thought, but was murdered by someone he knew.

A second way of improving her financial position soon presents itself to Hannah when a gentleman enters the Punchbowl and Pineapple and introduces himself as William Devereux, a friend of her late husband’s. William gives Hannah a recipe for ‘iced cream’, a frozen dessert made by his mother, who was raised in Italy. Despite some initial problems – freezing cream without the aid of an electric freezer is not an easy task – the new treat proves a big success. And soon William is helping her to solve a bigger problem – the question of who killed Jonas Cole and where the money in his bank came from.

The perspective switches between Hannah and William several times throughout the novel, with each narrator being given a distinctive narrative voice of their own. I felt a stronger connection with Hannah, but seeing things from William’s point of view provides a whole different side to the story. It quickly becomes clear to the reader that neither one of them is being completely honest with the other (or with anyone else) and that, as the title suggests, this really is a novel about the art of telling lies! It was fascinating to follow both of their narratives, wondering who was going to come out on top. The ending of the book wasn’t really what I’d expected and although I would have preferred the ending I had expected, it was good to be taken by surprise!

I loved the setting of the book, particularly the descriptions of Hannah’s shop and all the cakes, chocolates and sweets she sells. I enjoyed reading about her experiments with different varieties of ice cream (don’t miss the author’s note at the end of the book, which has some factual information about the history of ice cream in the UK). The inclusion of Henry Fielding as a character in the book was also interesting – he really was Chief Magistrate of Westminster at the time the story is set and was the founder of the Bow Street Runners, London’s first police force.

The Square of Sevens is still my favourite Laura Shepherd-Robinson book, but I think it’s just a matter of personal taste and I’m sure some readers will like this one better. It reminded me very much of The Queen of Fives by Alex Hay and I think if you enjoyed that one you’ll probably enjoy this one as well.

Thanks to Pan Macmillan/Mantle for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 9/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

These Wicked Devices by Matthew Plampin

I’ve only read one Matthew Plampin book – Mrs Whistler, about the life of Maud Franklin, the model and muse of the artist James McNeill Whistler – so I was intrigued by the description of his new one, which is set in an entirely different time and place. These Wicked Devices takes us to Rome in the summer of 1650 and introduces us to three separate characters whose stories become entwined in various ways.

First, we meet Sister Orsola, a Benedictine nun who has fled to Rome after the city of Castro, including the convent that was her home, was razed to the ground on the Pope’s orders. Orsola is accompanied by Sister Serafina, a choir nun who goes into trance-like states where she endlessly recites the lives of the saints. In the final hours before Castro’s destruction, the Mother Abbess had asked Orsola to protect Serafina and help her find another convent where she could live in safety. Orsola agreed, hoping that performing this task would help her to atone for the sin of giving birth to a child who died unbaptised.

Another thread of the novel follows Donna Olimpia Maidalchini, the most important woman in Rome. As the sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X, she is regarded as the real power behind the papal throne, involving herself in politics and the appointment of positions within the church. At the beginning of the novel, Donna Olimpia is negotiating with France to help a French invasion force seize the Kingdom of Naples from Spain.

Finally, we meet Juan de Pareja , newly arrived in Rome from Spain. Juan is an assistant and slave of the Spanish artist, Diego Velázquez, who hopes to paint a portrait of the Pope. When Juan discovers some secret papers hidden inside a metal statue, however, he suspects that there’s also another reason for their presence in Rome.

These three storylines alternate throughout the book, clearly marked with the Latin headings Sorores (sisters), Domina (mistress) and Servus (servant), to indicate whose perspective we’ll be reading from next. The three do merge together a lot, but I did find myself preferring one over the others – the one about Sisters Orsola and Serafina. There’s a real sense of danger as they are suspected of being heretics due to their connection with Castro and Orsola isn’t sure who can and can’t be trusted as she tries to carry out her promise to the Abbess. There was a lot to interest me in Juan de Pareja’s story as well – his relationship with his master, Diego Velázquez, his own ambitions of becoming an artist and his desire to live his life as a free man – but I found Donna Olimpia’s sections less engaging, maybe because she herself is much less likeable as a person.

Plampin creates a strong sense of time and place, with vivid descriptions of the piazzas, fountains, palazzi and churches of Rome as the city bakes in a late spring heatwave. I found the writing style quite dry, though, so for me this was an interesting read rather than an entertaining one. Still, it was good to add to my knowledge of a period in Rome’s history that I knew very little about.

Thanks to The Borough Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 7/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Rush by Beth Lewis

I loved this! I’ve never read anything by Beth Lewis before, or even come across her, but this is one of my favourite books of the year so far. It’s set in Canada during the Gold Rush and follows the stories of three very different women whose paths cross in Dawson City in the Klondike.

The Rush begins with the arrival of Kate Kelly in Skaguay (now Skagway), Alaska, in 1898. Kate is there to meet up with the guide who is going to take her along the White Pass Trail, the route to Yukon and the Klondike goldfields. She needs to get there as quickly as possible because she has received a desperate plea for help from her sister, Charlotte, in Dawson City: This may be my last letter. He has finally found me and there is nowhere left to run.

In the little Klondike settlement of Boulder Creek, Ellen Rhodes spends her days alone in her cabin, cooking, cleaning and washing, while her husband, Charlie, goes down to the river and digs for gold that never appears. Ellen is sure they’re wasting their time and money, but Charlie refuses to give up on his dream. Finally, we meet Martha, owner of the Dawson Hotel, which doubles as the town’s brothel. Martha is fiercely proud of the business she has built up and is determined to keep it out of the hands of the ruthless Bill Mathers, who seems to be buying up the entire town.

The three women take turns to narrate the story, with the viewpoints rotating throughout the book. They are leading very separate lives at first, but are drawn together when one of Martha’s girls is found murdered. They’re also connected by a mysterious fortune teller who encounters all three of them and seems to have an uncanny ability to truly predict the future. There’s a mystery element to the novel as the women try to find out who the murder victim really is, who has killed her and why, but although this was intriguing and cleverly plotted, what I really loved was the setting and learning what it was like to be a woman in that fascinating but harsh environment where there were any number of natural and man-made disasters – an avalanche, a fire, an outbreak of typhoid – that could change everything in an instant.

I seem to read very few historical novels set in Canada, so I was pleased to have come across one with such a strong sense of place. The vivid descriptions made it easy for me to imagine the cabin by the river where Ellen and Charlie’s marriage falls apart, a victim to the obsessive fever that grabs hold of some human beings when gold is mentioned, and the streets of Dawson City where enterprising men and women like Martha have discovered that the real fortune is to be made not from mining but from the miners. But I particularly enjoyed following Kate’s journey from Alaska into Canada’s Yukon territory, a journey which includes a dramatic, exhilarating adventure crossing the dangerous White Horse Rapids.

I had assumed that the characters were entirely fictional, so I was surprised to read the author’s note at the end of the book and discover that many of them, including Kate, Ellen and Martha, are actually based loosely on real historical figures. This really is a fascinating book, in so many different ways, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Thanks to Viper for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 5/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis

A lot of novels have been published recently dealing with the subject of witchcraft and witch trials, but The Hounding – Xenobe Purvis’ debut – is something different. Set in 18th century Oxfordshire, after the fervour for witch hunting has largely died down, it explores the dangers of being different in a small community where superstition is rife.

The five Mansfield sisters, who live with their blind grandfather on his farm, have become the subject of gossip in the village of Little Nettlebed. Their grandmother has recently died and the sisters are in mourning, but it seems that people have little sympathy for them. The Mansfields have always been seen as odd by the other villagers and since their grandmother’s death, a rumour has begun to spread that the girls have the power to turn themselves into dogs.

It’s Pete Darling, the drunken, misogynistic ferryman who starts the rumour after one of the girls refuses to speak to him, causing him to feel disrespected. As a summer heatwave descends on the village and the river begins to dry up, Pete’s trade is affected, giving him less to occupy his days and more time to drink. When he sees what he believes are the Mansfield sisters undergoing a strange transformation, it’s not quite clear what has actually happened. Has Pete had some kind of hallucination brought on by heat and alcohol? Is his own dislike of the girls causing him to see what he wants to see and conveniently giving him a way to punish them? Or are the sisters really turning into dogs in front of his eyes? Sadly, the girls are not popular in the village and other people are easily convinced that Pete’s story is true.

From calm, serious Anne, the eldest, down to little Mary, a solemn six-year-old – and in between pretty Elizabeth, shy, timid Grace and tomboyish Hester – the girls share a close bond and keep themselves to themselves, which leads to them being viewed as arrogant and unwelcoming. To Farmer Mansfield, however, they are his beloved granddaughters and he just wants them to be happy and safe. Other characters in the book also have their own views of the girls and these include newcomer Thomas Mildmay, who has been hired to help with the haymaking on the farm; the innkeeper’s wife, Temperance Shirly; and two local boys, Robin and Richard Wildgoose. The perspective we never really get is that of the sisters themselves, but seeing them through the eyes of others helps us to build up a picture of who the sisters really are and what they are like.

I found this a very atmospheric book; Purvis successfully creates a tense, almost claustrophobic feel through her descriptions of the relentless hot, dry weather and the small-mindedness of the villagers. A mixture of superstition, prejudice and fear of things they don’t understand makes the people of Little Nettlebed ready to think the worst of the Mansfield sisters and the girls don’t really do much to dispel these misconceptions because they do behave increasingly oddly when other people are around – almost as if becoming a dog is a safer option than being seen as different. I really enjoyed this fascinating and unusual novel!

Thanks to Hutchinson Heinemann for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

A Schooling in Murder by Andrew Taylor

I love Andrew Taylor’s books and over the last few years I’ve been enjoying his Marwood and Lovett series, set in the 17th century in the aftermath of the Great Fire of London. His new novel, A Schooling in Murder, is not part of the series and leaves that setting behind entirely, taking us instead to the 1940s and a girls’ school near the border of England and Wales.

The novel has a very unusual narrator and when I sat down to write this review I wondered if it would be possible to avoid giving away too much about her. However, the publisher’s own blurb reveals her secret, as do most of the other reviews I’ve seen (and to be fair, she tells us herself in the first chapter anyway): Annabel Warnock is a ghost. In life, she was a teacher at Monkshill Park School for Girls, until being pushed into the river from the Maiden’s Leap, a clifftop viewing point on the Gothick Walk, part of the school grounds. Who pushed her? Annabel doesn’t know, but she’s determined to find out.

As a ghost, Annabel is able to move freely around Monkshill Park – although places she never visited while alive are inaccessible to her – but she can’t be seen or heard by anyone else. This naturally makes investigating her murder very difficult, especially as her colleagues don’t even know she’s dead since her body was never washed up. It seems that the only person who can help is Alec Shaw, Annabel’s replacement – referred to simply as a ‘Visiting Tutor’ to appease parents worried about the school employing a man to teach their girls. Although she can’t speak directly to Alec, Annabel finds a very imaginative way to communicate with him, which was one of my favourite aspects of the book!

As well as the mystery element of the book, we also learn a lot about life in a 1940s girls’ boarding school. Andrew Taylor does a good job of portraying the rivalries and complex relationships that form when groups of teenage girls – and groups of teachers – are living together in a close-knit community. There are occasional references to the war, which is in its closing stages as the book begins in May 1945, but Monkshill Park feels largely sheltered from the outside world, so although the war touches the lives of the characters in various ways it doesn’t form a big part of the story.

The descriptions of the school and its landscape are very detailed, so I was interested to read in Taylor’s author’s note that he based it on Piercefield, a now ruined house and estate near Chepstow in Wales, and that in its fictional guise of Monkshill Park it also formed the setting for his earlier novel, The American Boy. I should have remembered that as The American Boy is my favourite of all the Andrew Taylor books I’ve read!

Although it was interesting to watch a victim trying to solve their own murder, I felt that there was a distance between the characters and the reader, which I suppose is inevitable when your narrator can only watch and observe rather than interact directly with the people around her. Maybe because we’re only seeing them from Annabel’s unique perspective, most of the characters also seem particularly unpleasant! Possibly for these reasons, I didn’t enjoy this quite as much as some of Taylor’s other books, but it was imaginative and different and I’m looking forward to whatever he writes next.

Thanks to Hemlock Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 3/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

Before Dorothy by Hazel Gaynor

I’m sure most of us have seen The Wizard of Oz (and/or read L. Frank Baum’s classic novel on which it’s based), but how many of us have stopped to think about what happened to the characters before the story began? Why was Dorothy living with her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry? Who were her real parents? And how did the family come to be in Kansas in the first place? In Hazel Gaynor’s new novel, Before Dorothy, she sets out to answer these questions and more.

The book is written from the perspective of Emily Gale – Aunt Em – and begins in 1932 as she returns to Chicago following the death of her sister, Annie. Annie’s seven-year-old daughter, Dorothy, has been left an orphan and Emily and her husband, Henry, are to become her legal guardians. Emily hasn’t seen Dorothy since she was a baby – she and Henry now live in Kansas and her relationship with Annie has been very strained in recent years – and she’s not at all sure she’s the right person to care for a child, particularly one who has suffered the trauma of losing her parents. Once back in Kansas, however, Emily gradually begins to feel a stronger bond with Dorothy than she’d expected.

Moving backwards and forwards in time, we watch as Emily and Annie, originally from Connemara in Ireland, first arrive in Chicago in 1924 and meet their respective husbands, cousins Henry and John Gale. We also see how Emily makes the decision to start a new life with Henry in Kansas and what she discovers when she gets there. The focus is always on Emily rather than Dorothy and unlike the Baum novel and its adaptations, the story is firmly grounded in reality rather than fantasy.

I tend not to read many books that are spin-offs of classics or that borrow other authors’ characters and I only chose to read this one because I’ve enjoyed some of Hazel Gaynor’s previous work. I wasn’t sure I would like it, but I did – although I think it would probably have worked just as well if it had simply been a novel about an original fictional family living on the prairie, with no connection to the Gales. It was fun spotting the references to The Wizard of Oz, though. The scarecrow, tin man and lion all appear, as do the wizard, witches (good and wicked), the tornado and many more – although not necessarily in the form you would expect! Gaynor manages to work these references into the story in a way that feels believable and not too forced.

What I liked best about this book, though, was the portrayal of life on the prairie – the sense of adventure and optimism Emily and Henry feel when they first arrive, followed by a growing awareness that things are going to be much more difficult than they’d expected. With an influx of people coming to the Great Plains in large numbers to farm the land, there’s eventually a surplus of wheat, too much to be sold, leading to a drop in prices. Worse, the overexploitation of the land and removal of the prairie grasses, combined with a prolonged drought, causes severe dust storms (known as the Dust Bowl). The hardships and challenges faced by the Gales, as well as the environmental disaster unfolding around them, forms a big part of the novel.

I’m sure a lot of the people who read this book will have been drawn to it by the links with The Wizard of Oz, but even if that doesn’t appeal to you I think there’s still enough here to make it an enjoyable work of historical fiction in its own right.

Thanks to HarperCollins for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.