Category: Historical Fiction

The House at Devil’s Neck by Tom Mead

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This is the fourth book in Tom Mead’s Joseph Spector mystery series, but if you haven’t read any of them, don’t worry – they all stand alone and if you wanted to start here, that wouldn’t be a problem. The books are set in the 1930s and are written in the style of Golden Age ‘locked room’ or ‘impossible crime’ novels, with the influence of John Dickson Carr being particularly strong. The series features two detectives: a professional one – Inspector Flint of Scotland Yard – and an amateur one – Joseph Spector, a retired magician.

The House at Devil’s Neck begins in August 1939 with a group of people boarding a coach, ready for a trip to Devil’s Neck, a supposedly haunted house. The house, which can be reached by a causeway at low tide, has a long and dramatic history, but was most recently used as a convalescent home for wounded soldiers during the Great War. The current owner has now opened up the house to tourists and the first party is about to arrive. The guests include Madame la Motte, a medium, and her companion Imogen; a ‘ghost hunter’, Francis Tulp; and a magician – Joseph Spector. No sooner have they reached Devil’s Neck and settled into their rooms, however, than one of the party is found dead.

Back in London meanwhile, Inspector Flint is investigating what appears to be a suicide. The victim is Rodney Edgecomb, a man who, many years earlier, was involved in a high-profile inheritance dispute following the sinking of the Titanic. The circumstances of his death lead Flint to believe this is murder rather than suicide. When he eventually discovers links between Edgecomb and the house at Devil’s Neck, Flint and Spector are able to team up once again to solve the mystery.

I won’t go into the plot in any more detail because it’s such a complex one with so many twists I’m impressed that Tom Mead managed to keep track of it all himself! The murder methods are also very complicated, but the solutions do make sense once Spector explains them. As with his other books, Mead inserts a brief chapter towards the end to warn us that the solution is coming in case we want a chance to try to solve the mystery for ourselves. I think the average reader would find that very difficult – I certainly had no chance at all of solving it! – but the clues are all there and there are references at the end linking back to where you can find them in the text.

What interested me more than the mystery itself was the setting. The descriptions of the house at Devil’s Neck – ‘a hulking shape, a creature waiting at the valley’s nadir’ – are very atmospheric, as the guests arrive in pouring rain and the house quickly becomes cut off from the mainland by the rising water. The house’s history is also fascinating and allows Mead to explore the fate of wounded soldiers and how those left with permanent disabilities struggled to integrate back into society. Spiritualism, the tricks used by mediums and methods of ghost hunting are also subjects touched on in the book.

I loved most of this novel, until I started to feel lost near the end as it became more and more complex! I think the first and third books – Death and the Conjuror and Cabaret Macabre – are still my favourites.

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

Book 17/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Greek House by Dinah Jefferies

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I always enjoy picking up a new Dinah Jefferies book and finding out which part of the world she’s going to take me to next! India, Sri Lanka, Italy, Morocco and Malaysia are just some of the places I’ve visited through the pages of her novels and now I can add Corfu to the list. More specifically, Corfu in 1923, when the island is occupied by Mussolini’s Italy following a border dispute between Greece and Albania.

Sixteen-year-old Thirza and her nine-year-old brother, Billy, are caught up in the panic on the streets of Corfu Old Town during the Italian naval attack. Dulcie, their mother, has left them with her cousin, Columbine, while she goes to check on a camp of refugee children with whom she volunteers, and when she returns, she finds that Billy has disappeared. Despite weeks of searching, the little boy can’t be found and is eventually presumed dead. Struggling to cope with the trauma, Dulcie blames both Thirza and Columbine for what has happened and goes home to England, leaving behind her husband Piers, director of the British police training school in Corfu.

In 1930, Thirza returns to the island after a long absence, planning to renovate the old family home, Merchant’s House, in the hope that one day her mother will also feel ready to join her there. A lot has changed in the intervening years – the Italians have left and there’s a new woman in her father’s life – but Thirza still feels the shadow of her brother’s disappearance and decides to renew her efforts to find out the truth.

The Greek House is probably not my favourite Dinah Jefferies book, mainly because I found it too easy to predict some of the plot twists and I also thought the number of explicit sex scenes was a bit unnecessary. I loved the Corfu setting, though; everything comes to life in wonderfully vivid detail, whether the intense purple of bougainvillea or the changing colours of the sea in the sunlight. I also knew nothing about the Italian occupation of 1923, so that was interesting, although it only forms a small part of the story.

The disappearance of Billy happens very early in the novel, but it’s the trigger for everything else that happens and I liked the way Jefferies explores the impact of such a tragic incident on the various family members, depending on their different personalities and circumstances. Although I did naturally feel sorry for Dulcie, I also found it slightly annoying that she never really seemed to accept any responsibility for leaving her child in the middle of an invasion in the care of a teenager and a woman who was drunk at the time. Most of my sympathies were with Thirza, who has to live with the guilt as well as the sense of loss, and who feels that her mother will never truly forgive her. The feelings of Dulcie’s husband, Piers, seem to be largely ignored by everybody due to his hard, aloof exterior, but later in the book he mellows thanks to his relationship with his new girlfriend, Penelope – a character I ended up loving.

In her author’s note at the end, Jefferies hints that we’re going to meet some of the same characters again in her next book. That’s something to look forward to!

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

Fire from Heaven by Mary Renault

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This is the first in Mary Renault’s trilogy of novels about the life of Alexander the Great. It’s been waiting patiently on my shelf for years, since I finished her two books on Theseus, The King Must Die and The Bull from the Sea, and I picked it up last month as it would count towards both the 20 Books of Summer challenge and my Classics Club list.

First published in 1969, Fire from Heaven tells, in fictional form, the story of Alexander’s life from early childhood up to the moment he comes to power following the death of his father, Philip II of Macedon. His complex relationship with Philip – and also with his mother, Olympias – forms an important part of the novel as both parents are influential in shaping the character of the young Alexander. Philip is portrayed as a brutal, harsh, arrogant man, who can be very unkind to Alexander, but there are also moments when they bond and discover things they have in common. Their relationship is further strained by Olympias’ insinuations that Philip is not Alexander’s biological father, as well as Philip’s various infidelities and insistence on taking additional wives.

Alexander is devoted to Olympias from an early age and is disturbed by his parents’ tempestuous marriage. Like Alexander, I initially found her sympathetic, but as the novel progresses she is shown to have both positive and negative qualities, being passionate, vengeful and manipulative, as well as involving herself in religious rituals, particularly the worship of Dionysus. Alexander finds solace from his difficult relationships with his parents in his very close friendship with Hephaistion, another important character in the novel. Renault suggests that Alexander and Hephaistion are lovers, drawing comparisons with Achilles and Patroclus, although it seems that historians are divided on this.

Away from his personal relationships, a lot of time is also spent on exploring the education and experiences that made Alexander the great military leader he would later become: the tuition he receives from Aristotle; the first time he kills a man; his taming of the horse Bucephalus; and his participation in some of his father’s military campaigns. Because this book only covers the first half of Alexander’s life, Renault is able to go into a lot of depth and detail. I’m looking forward to seeing how his character continues to develop in the second book, The Persian Boy, which covers the remainder of his life.

This is not a particularly easy book to read; it needs a lot of concentration and I read it slowly over the course of a few weeks so I didn’t miss anything. It’s obviously very well written and thoroughly researched, which I knew it would be, having read other Renault books, and like many older historical novels it’s also very immersive, with no inappropriately modern language or attitudes, which can sometimes be a problem with newer books. Purely from an entertainment perspective, I didn’t find this as enjoyable to read as the Theseus novels, but I did get a lot out of it and am pleased to have added to my knowledge of a man and a period of history I previously hadn’t read much about.

Book 16/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

This is also book 48/50 from my second Classics Club list.

How to Lose a Lord in Ten Days by Sophie Irwin

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This is Sophie Irwin’s third novel and since I loved her first two – A Lady’s Guide to Fortune-Hunting and A Lady’s Guide to Scandal – I was looking forward to reading this one, but although I did enjoy it, I think it’s my least favourite of the three. If you’re new to her work, all three of Irwin’s books are set in Regency England and are all standalones with different sets of characters. Apparently this one is loosely based on the romantic comedy How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, which I haven’t seen, although I don’t think that would have made any difference to my impressions of the book.

Our heroine this time is Lydia Hanworth, a wool merchant’s granddaughter, who, as the novel opens, has found herself engaged to a man she doesn’t love. Lydia’s aunt and uncle, with whom she has lived since the deaths of her parents, have made it clear that if she refuses Lord Ashford, she’ll be sent to live with her awful Aunt Mildred – but Lydia has no intention of marrying him, or any other man not of her choosing. The engagement is due to be announced by Ashford’s father at a party in ten days’ time. That means Lydia has ten days to make Ashford regret he ever met her and voluntarily withdraw his proposal!

Like Sophie Irwin’s other books, this is a lively, entertaining read written with a lot of humour and comedy. Most of the story plays out at a house party hosted by Ashford’s cousin Phoebe, which means there are a limited number of characters to get to know. Despite this, not all of them came fully to life for me and a subplot that develops later in the book involving Phoebe, her husband and a missing necklace felt unnecessary. It does provide some purpose for Lydia’s brother, Pip, though – he has just begun working for the Bow Street Runners and has arrived at the house party with his notebook and quizzing glass, hoping for a real mystery to solve.

Some of Lydia’s attempts to drive Ashford away are quite amusing and could be described as harmless fun (her hideous, unfashionable gowns; her loud, grating laugh; her tone-deaf attempts at singing) but others seem a bit cruel. Despite Lydia’s dislike of him, which is largely based on misunderstandings, Ashford is a decent person and doesn’t really deserve to be humiliated by her! I also couldn’t quite believe that the other guests would have overlooked her behaviour and background so easily and accepted her as one of the party. She broke so many of the rules of upper-class Regency society her reputation should have been in ruins, but it seemed that while people were momentarily shocked by her actions, it was all forgotten the next day.

Still, this is another enjoyable read from Sophie Irwin and I’m sure if I hadn’t held it to such high standards based on her first two books, I would probably be less critical of it. If you’re looking for a light, fun summer read this would be ideal.

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

Book 15/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Emerald Shawl by Louise Douglas

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I’d forgotten how much I love reading Louise Douglas! I’ve read four of her books and particularly enjoyed the du Maurier-inspired The Secrets Between Us, but then I seemed to lose track and missed all of her more recent ones. The Emerald Shawl, published this week, turned out to be the perfect choice for my return to her work.

The novel opens in Bristol in 1864, with journalist Nelly Brooks meeting a woman in a green shawl by the docks. Nelly’s ‘journalism’ amounts to writing a women’s column for the Courier, giving advice on cooking, cleaning and decorating, which is all her editor will allow her to do. She hasn’t given up on her dream of becoming a serious news reporter like her male colleagues, however, and when Eliza Morgan, the woman in the shawl, tells her of the murder of the wife and newborn child of an important man, Nelly is sure she’s found the story she’s been hoping for. When Eliza herself is found floating lifeless in the river the next day, Nelly doesn’t believe the verdict that it was an accidental drowning. She’s convinced that Eliza was murdered and that she is the only person who may be able to find out who killed her.

The mystery is the main focus of the book, but Nelly’s personal life is also interesting. Having become pregnant at the age of fifteen, she spent several years in an asylum, sent there by her parents who found it preferable to admitting that she’d had an illegitimate child. Nelly has had no contact with her daughter – or her parents – since the baby was removed from her after the birth, but she has now discovered that twelve-year-old Hannah is attending a school near Nelly’s place of work. As well as investigating Eliza’s death, Nelly also sets out to find a way to bring Hannah back into her life.

The characters in the book range from the very wealthy, such as the politician Sir Edward Fairfield and his wife, for whom Eliza Morgan worked as a seamstress, to the working class Skinners, who are drawn into the mystery when their daughter’s body is stolen from the morgue. Although both families live in Bristol, they may as well be in different worlds and Nelly has to navigate between the two.

I found it interesting to learn after finishing the book that Douglas based Nelly’s character on the American journalist Nellie Bly, who went undercover to report on conditions inside a mental institution. The fictional Nelly’s own experience of mental institutions allows Douglas to explore issues around mental health and how ‘insanity’ could be used as a convenient way of dealing with people seen as problematic. I also loved the Victorian Bristol setting, which made a nice change from the usual Victorian London settings! The building of the Clifton Suspension Bridge is completed during the course of the novel, an important event in Bristol’s history which helps set the story in a wider historical context.

I hope Louise Douglas will return to Nelly Brooks in a future book as I think there’s a lot of scope to do more with the character. If not, I still have plenty of her earlier novels to enjoy!

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

Sinners by Elizabeth Fremantle

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Elizabeth Fremantle is an author I’ve been following since her first book, Queen’s Gambit, was published in 2013. I’ve enjoyed all of her novels, to varying degrees, but I think her latest one, Sinners, is the best so far. It’s the story of the Italian noblewoman, Beatrice Cenci, and is a very dark and powerful read.

The book begins in Rome in 1598 with Beatrice discovering the dead body of her brother Rocco, a victim of one of her father’s long-running feuds. To avoid any further retaliations, the family flee to La Rocca, a hunting lodge in the mountains, but this proves not to be a place of safety for Beatrice as her father, Francesco Cenci, becomes increasingly cruel and unpredictable, abusing her physically, verbally and sexually. Her stepmother, Lucrezia, and younger half-brother, Bernardo, are also targets for his brutal violence and abuse, while her other brother, Giacomo, who is gay, remains estranged from the family, forced to communicate with Beatrice in secret.

As life behind the walls of La Rocca becomes more and more unbearable, Beatrice finds some solace in her growing friendship with Olimpio Calvetti, one of her father’s servants. When she becomes pregnant with Olimpio’s child, Beatrice fears for their lives if her father learns the truth – especially if he also learns that Beatrice has been reporting him to the authorities for his abusive behaviour! And so Beatrice comes up with a plan which, if it works, could set them all free, but if it fails could leave them in even more danger than before.

As you’ll be able to tell, Sinners is not an easy or comfortable book to read. Francesco Cenci is one of the most wicked, depraved characters you’re likely to come across in fiction and the way he treats his wife and children is unimaginably cruel. Knowing that he was a real person and that his family really did suffer at his hands makes it even more horrible to read about. It also makes it easy for the reader to have sympathy for Beatrice when she decides to take action, although Fremantle explains in her author’s note that her intention in writing the book was to portray Beatrice as a complex woman who is both innocent and guilty, saint and sinner, something which I think she achieves.

Fremantle also uses her author’s note to clarify where the book sticks to historical fact and where she uses her imagination to produce a compelling work of fiction. I found it particularly fascinating to read about the famous portrait of Beatrice Cenci, attributed to Guido Reni, which is now thought to be by Ginevra Cantofoli and maybe not even a portrait of Beatrice at all. Fremantle works the painting of the portrait into the plot in an interesting way, showing how it was used to evoke sympathy for Beatrice from the public.

I love the way Fremantle recreates the feel of late-16th century Italy and although it’s set a decade or two earlier, Sinners makes a good companion novel to Disobedient, her book about Artemisia Gentileschi. Artemisia’s story even overlaps with Beatrice’s in the first chapter. I’m looking forward to seeing who and what Fremantle decides to write about next!

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

Book 13/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Lily and the Lion by Maurice Druon #ParisinJuly2025

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Translated by Humphrey Hare

I always seem to forget about Paris in July, but this year I remembered in time and decided it would be the perfect opportunity to get back to Maurice Druon’s Accursed Kings series, which I started years ago and still haven’t finished! The Lily and the Lion (first published in French in 1959) is the sixth of seven books telling the story of Philip IV the Fair of France and the kings who follow him, said to have been cursed “to the thirteenth generation” by the vengeful Grand Master of the Knights Templar as he burned at the stake. Les Rois maudits, to give the series its French title, was very successful in France, being adapted for television twice, and has also been credited by George R.R. Martin as the inspiration for Game of Thrones.

The first book in the series is The Iron King and I would recommend starting there if possible. If you don’t have much knowledge of this period of French history (which I certainly didn’t), reading the books in order makes it easier to gradually understand the historical context and the relationships between the various characters. One character who has been with us since book one is Robert of Artois and his story becomes the main focus of book six.

The Lily and the Lion begins with the death of yet another French king, Charles IV. With no direct heir, his cousin Philippe of Valois is chosen as his successor, thanks largely to the machinations of Robert of Artois. In return for helping Philippe to the throne, Robert has been promised the new king’s support in reclaiming his lands of Artois which he believes have been stolen from him by his Aunt Mahaut. A large part of the book is devoted to the dispute over Artois, which is more exciting than it sounds as Robert is prepared to go to any lengths, including forgery, perjury and murder, to get what he wants – and Mahaut is equally determined to stop him.

In England, meanwhile, Philip the Fair’s daughter Isabella and her lover, Roger Mortimer, are now effectively ruling the country after deposing her husband, Edward II. However, Isabella and Edward’s son, the young Edward III, is almost old enough to take control of the throne himself and is planning to overthrow Mortimer. Thanks to some encouragement from Robert of Artois, who has lost patience with Philippe of Valois, Edward III also sets his sights on the throne of France, believing he has a claim through his mother. The seeds of the Hundred Years’ War have been sown!

For a long time, The Lily and the Lion was the last book in the series, until the publication of The King Without a Kingdom many years later in 1977. It does feel like a final book, as Druon ties up loose ends and brings his various storylines to a conclusion. I had wondered if he would return to the story of Marie de Cressay and Guccio Baglioni’s son, Jean, switched as a baby with John the Posthumous, the young King of France who supposedly died aged four days old – and he does, right at the end of the book in the epilogue. This felt very much like an afterthought, though, and I would have liked to have at least had some glimpses of Jean’s life in the main part of the novel.

Although I preferred the earlier books in the series, I did enjoy reading this one and seeing Robert and Mahaut’s long-running feud finally come to an end. I’ve heard that the final book is very different and not as good, but I’m sure I’ll read it eventually – maybe for next year’s Paris in July!

Book 12/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.