A beloved writer returns with a tale of science, magyk, love and identity.
In the late nineteenth century, Charlotte Bell is growing up at Fayne, a vast and lonely estate straddling the border between England and Scotland, where she has been kept from the world by her adoring father, Lord Henry Bell, owing to a mysterious condition. Charlotte, strong and insatiably curious, revels in the moorlands, and has learned the treacherous and healing ways of the bog from the old hired man, Byrn, whose own origins are shrouded in mystery. Her idyllic existence is shadowed by the magnificent portrait on the landing in Fayne House which depicts her mother, a beautiful Irish-American heiress, holding Charlotte's brother, Charles Bell. Charlotte has grown up with the knowledge that her mother died in giving birth to her, and that her older brother, Charles, the long-awaited heir, died soon afterwards at the age of two. When Charlotte's appetite for learning threatens to exceed the bounds of the estate, her father breaks with tradition and hires a tutor to teach his daughter "as you would my son, had I one." But when Charlotte and her tutor's explorations of the bog turn up an unexpected artefact, her father announces he has arranged for her to be cured of her condition, and her world is upended. Charlotte's passion for knowledge and adventure will take her to the bottom of family secrets and to the heart of her own identity.
An excerpt from the story taken from the end of Chapter 34.
His late eldest brother’s bedroom has been aired and made up for just such this sort of circumstance, and as Henry feels his way in the dark, he reflects that his young wife’s gratitude to Miss Gourley is not misplaced, for it is true he was spared a possibly fatal fall from the precipice that windy day. It seems a lifetime ago, whereas in reality it is scarcely a year and a half since that afternoon in spring … He lies down on the bed in which the erstwhile heir to Fayne died over thirty years ago (Poor Bertram). As for Henry having gone on to meet his future bride, however, the credit for that is due his sister; for it was she who insisted he travel to Rome.
Henry curls onto his side and reflects that – his readiness in the conjugal department notwithstanding – it is just as well he skep here tonight, for he wishes to be alone with his thoughts; if only to quell them.
Everyone has secrets, and Henry Bell is no exception. Herewith, one of them, kept from his sister: he never minded the Bell family’s impecuniosity, for there were marked advantages to it. For example, because he was not in a position to reciprocate, he was not long obliged to attend shooting parties at the country estates of his – one must not call them “friends” – old school fellows. He never came out and said it, but he felt it and keenly: deplorable as it was to shoot other people’s birds, he could not have borne the slaughter of a single Fayne pheasant. Bear it, however, he must needs have done, for it would have been his duty to help his sister to a suitable husband had he the means to furnish her with a suitable dowry. And suitable husbands are to be found among gentlemen who make the sky rain death … not to put too fine a point on it. But now his sister is past the age when a woman might reasonably expect to become a mother – that sounds brutal, he doesn’t mean it to – thus Henry is under no obligation to find her a husband. And, thanks to the wondrous creature in the marital chamber down the hall, Henry’s newfound wealth means he need ingratiate himself with no man over the limp bodies of feathered innocents
Moreover, if his wife is right – and she has a knack for these things – Clarissa has ideas of her own in that department. Fancy Josey becoming my brother-in-law … He smiles in the darkness. His wife is mistaken in one respect, however, for Henry has known Josiah Baxter long enough to know he is not “sweet on” Rosamund Gourley. The two are friends. In the true Aristotelian sense – uncommon enough in a man, vanishingly rare in a woman. Indeed, there was a time when Henry counted Miss Gourley as such a friend, and he registers a pang – not of jealousy, he does not begrudge Josey his continued friendship with Miss Gourley. The pang is to do with a falling out, which began with a near falling down. But that is all in the past. He closes his eyes.
My thoughts.
So far, due to life getting in the way I haven't read as much of this story as I would have liked and I haven't had time to finish it, in order to be able to share a review. Whilst it's written in a way that the characters I feel would have spoken in the time that the story is set, I find it a lot easier to read than some of the Gothic style stories that were written in the past by the Bronte sisters and Authors of a similar period in time.
I look forward to seeing what journey these characters are going to take me on, as I have some ideas and it will be interesting to see if my ideas are proven to be right or not. I do not want to divulge what they are, as to do so may spoil the story for others.
I feel that this story will make it into my Top 10 reads of 2023. I look forward to reading other books by this Author as this is the first story of hers that I have set my eyes upon.
My thanks to Helen Richardson for organising the blog tour of this book and for the copy that I received in order to be able to take part.
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