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 Lady Emily Ashton married her husband simply to get out of her mother’s house. When he dies less than six months after their marriage on a hunting trip in Africa, Emily does not know what to feel except perplexed. Everyone close to her husband assumes that she is mourning him dreadfully and sprinkles her with anecdotes, assuming that she’ll relate. Emily, however, barely knew her husband and struggles to orient herself in this world. When she learns that her husband felt a great deal more for her than she did for him, she begins searching for his true character, and in the bargain learns about disturbing fakes at the British Museum. Could the husband for whom she has begun to feel a posthumous affection be the criminal, or is it one of his friends?
I waited a while to write this review because I was a little perplexed as to how I felt about it. I still am. While I was reading the book, my last of the Read-a-Thon, I loved it. I continued reading after the Read-a-Thon was over because I enjoyed it so much, but towards the end I started to feel a little deflated about it and now that I’ve finished, my feelings are mixed. I think it has a lot to do with where the plot went. Emily convinces herself that a specific person is guilty with the coercion of another friend. I was convinced that person #1 was perfectly innocent while person #2 was definitely guilty. Sorry, if you’ve read the book, you will know who I mean. Lo and behold, I was right, but I think her willing ignorance and inability to think for herself – after going in and doing all that research and coming to so many great conclusions – really got to me. I liked person #1!
I originally went for this book because it reminded me of the Lady Julia Grey mysteries (Silent in the Grave) which I found absolutely fabulous. Husband very recently dead, later evidence of his suspicious behavior in regards to someone, widow finding her wings while solving a mystery directly involving dead husband. I think this one suffered a little in comparison, which is unfortunate, especially so because there are things I loved about this book. I loved Emily’s interest in the Classics, her desire to learn ancient Greek and really get into her research. The way she went about falling love with her husband after his death was sweet, if a little strange; but the feeling of regret is one that comes through beautifully and is really touching. She realizes that she could have loved this man if she’d looked twice at him and the fact that she didn’t bother really hurts her.
I think this book is really well-written, too. I know it completely sucked me in within the first few pages and I can’t say that about many of my more recent reads. Even though I solved the mystery, I still wanted to know the exact details and I wanted to see what would happen when Emily figured it out. Like I said, this book kept me reading after the Read-a-Thon was over and I’d spent 12 1/2 of the past 24 reading away and I plan on reading the rest of the series. Even though it isn’t the best, I would still recommend it if you are looking for more like Deanna Raybourn’s excellent series or, better yet, if you haven’t read them and want to try this genre, which is sort of more historical fiction than mystery but still has both.
Buy And Only to Deceive on Amazon.
 In a small town in eastern Europe called Ropraz, a beautiful, virginal young woman dies of a horrible illness. With great ceremony and reverence, she is laid to rest in their churchyard. The next morning, her remains are found spread across the graveyard, horribly mutilated and defiled. Resorting to superstition in their fear, the villagers assume a vampire is on the loose. When two more recently deceased girls are violated in the same way, panic spreads and blame, naturally, settles on a peasant male who is found violating farm animals and has been noted for staring at girls. This little novel explores the psychological and superstitious reaction a small town on the edge of the 20th century has when faced with horrible brutality.
First of all, there are no actual vampires in this book. That was a disappointment to me, who received this as a review copy knowing absolutely nothing about it, so don’t let it disappoint you!
If you like creepy, you might like this book. The descriptions of the mutilated girls had me feeling ill and uncomfortable in my skin. I’m jumping at shadows. I don’t always like to be scared and I can’t say I’m liking it right now – I’m writing this review after midnight just to get this book out of my head. Also, the concepts of bestiality and necrophilia are innately disgusting to me, and those parts really bothered me. Honestly, I did not need to know the condition of the accused’s private organs. Worse, it’s written in such a matter-of-fact way that it’s almost as though this shouldn’t bother me, since it’s just genetics. It did. I’m squicked out.
The psychological effect was interesting, though. It almost reminded me of The Witch’s Trinity by Erika Mailman in the way that blame centers on one person and then it just grows and grows, people desperate to blame someone. Mailman does it better, though. This one captures a certain mass hysteria but doesn’t focus on anyone’s feelings in particular. It’s really too short and could have done with some fleshing out. At 104 pages of huge font with blank pages between chapters, we just get a straight narrative and not much else. It feels almost as though my review could be longer than the book.
I don’t think I’d want more though. This one creeped me out too much. I can’t imagine how it could be better in its original French; the descriptions of the countryside might flow better, but I doubt the translator could escape the graphic descriptions of mutilation which have me shuddering an hour after completing the book. I do have to say, clever ending. This one’s based on a true story and I was definitely wondering just how true that conjecture might be.
I will stop talking now, put this book out of my head, and let you look for yourself: Amazon and Amazon UK.
Do you like it when books creep you out?
 The Earl of Rule is a great catch. When he proposes marriage to Miss Elizabeth Winwood, she should be delighted, but she isn’t. She’s in love with someone else. Elizabeth’s younger sister Horatia has the perfect solution; she’ll offer herself to Rule instead, since he really only wants a Winwood, not any specific one of them. Despite Horry’s pronounced stammer, Rule is enchanted with her and agrees to marry her instead. Determined to be the perfect wife, Horry leaves Rule alone and engages in her own sometimes scandalous relations with the ton. A series of clever, humorous mishaps and slow realizations lead the married Rule and Horatia to come to terms with the fact that they are perfectly suited for each other.
I’m realizing that I love Georgette Heyer. This book is laugh out loud funny at times. It’s a literary caper that just continues on and on with a sweet underlying romance that left me with a smile on my face. There is so much fun going on in this book. There is Horry being rebellious by befriending Rule’s enemy, then hitting him on the head with a poker when he tries to kiss her. That had to be the funniest scene in the book, not to mention the scenes that ensued from complications of the failed seduction!
I also just love the way Heyer writes. She takes us straight back to Regency England and I can feel it in the prose as well as in the historical details. The romance is clean and relatively free of sexual passions, but that doesn’t make it any less real. The development of the fondness between the very young Horatia and her older, more experienced husband is endearing and engaging. I wanted them to discover the happiness that lay just beyond their current reach.
Overall, this book is exactly what I look for in a historical romance. It’s funny, it’s sweet, and it’s believable. I wouldn’t ask for more! I’m so excited to read more by Georgette Heyer. Thanks so much to Danielle and Sourcebooks for reprinting this wonderful author and sending me this review copy.
The Convenient Marriage is available from Amazon and Amazon UK.
 Juana of Castile never expected to be queen, with an older brother and sister ahead of her. As a daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain and thus a Spanish Infanta, she is married to Philip of Flanders, with whom she quickly falls in love. Juana does not trust her husband’s advisor, and within reason, for when Juana’s brother and sister die, he persuades Philip to seize the Spanish throne for himself. When everyone around her deserts her, Juana keeps fighting through her despair and her determination is creatively interpreted as madness by all those who have greater designs on her throne and no interest in the woman who should hold it.
I have never really known much about Juana. She is just outside my time period and just outside my geographical sphere of knowledge. I am so grateful for the opportunity to have read this novel. Juana is a fiery character and I knew little about her quirks. I love how she grows from girl to woman over the course of this book. Her voice is strong and believable and to be honest, I can hardly believe a man wrote this book! Since I didn’t know what happened, I had a rare opportunity to let the plot of a historical novel really take over and I can say that this book doesn’t fail at all in that respect either. It was wonderful and I think it still would have been even if I’d known how it ended.
Knowing full well the ways in which medieval and early modern figures manipulated heirs to make their way to a throne, I had no trouble at all imagining that Juana’s madness was a convenient foil. It would be nothing new. I found the way the author used known events and cast them in a different light to be extremely creative and appealing, like her reasoning for staying outside for several days in winter and taking her husband’s coffin with her well beyond when he should have been buried. So many people let Juana down, most notably her father and her husband. She was determined to secure the throne for her son, Charles, and did not back down even when these men did their best. Is it any surprise that they attempted to cast her aside?
I’ve never been to Spain, but I could almost picture it in this book. I want to go now and I want to learn more. That, more than anything, is the mark of a great historical fiction novel for me. This is an extremely enjoyable book and one that I would certainly recommend.
The Last Queen is available from Amazon and Amazon UK. You can also check out C.W. Gortner’s website, blog, and tour stops.
Welcome to the blog tour for C.W. Gortner’s wonderful book, The Last Queen, here at Medieval Bookworm. Today Christopher has graciously agreed to answer a few questions for me, and I hope the answers are as interesting for you as they are for me!
 1. My blog readers will know that, as a historian-in-training, historical accuracy is a frequent issue of mine when it comes to fiction. I very much dislike historical books to go against known facts. I know that you strove for this kind of historical accuracy with THE LAST QUEEN. Would you mind weighing in on this issue? How close do you think authors need to get to real history in fiction?
This is a very interesting issue, and, I must say, an often contentious one. For my writing, I always strive for accuracy; I think as writers of historical fiction it’s our responsibility to get our facts right. But sometimes dramatic license is required for the sake of a story that would otherwise get lost in a morass of history or to illustrate complex elements in a single scene. When this license is taken it should be well-considered and as plausible as possible. I did some of this to make THE LAST QUEEN accessible; my editors and my agent helped immensely in this regard. I also made some inadvertent mistakes, because, after all, I am human. Historical fiction is still fiction; as novelists we’re dramatizing a story based on actual events and/or people; but actual history, like life, isn’t always easily distilled. A historical novelist sometimes faces difficult choices in order to tell his or her story and because of these choices I believe some dramatic license is essential, providing it doesn’t go so far beyond what is known it careens into fantasy. If it does, then at the very least an author’s afterword or note is required.
2. I loved Juana’s character and had a really hard time believing that a man wrote this book! I had always heard that men couldn’t write women and women couldn’t write men but you completely eradicated that stereotype. Did you have any inspiration for her or experience that fueled your ability to portray a woman so well?
I heard that, too – for thirteen years as I attempted to get published! I think it’s one of those generalized misconceptions that persist, despite ample evidence to the contrary. Of course, there are men who can’t write women and vice versa, but novelists should, for all intensive purposes, strive to be as invisible as possible. Our characters tell our stories, not us. One of the marvelous boons of writing is that we are defined not by our gender but rather by our ability to inhabit the characters we create. That said, I was raised by women – my mom, my grandmother, my aunts – and I grew up at the table listening to them tell stories and gossip; maybe I somehow learned more about the female heart? I don’t know. I must admit, however, I often feel I understand women more than I do my own gender. I also first wrote THE LAST QUEEN in the third-person and it didn’t work. Juana was too enigmatic; the editors who read it came back with rejections that basically said, “Something is missing here.” It wasn’t until I put my own trepidations aside and slipped into her skin, so to speak, that much of her inner life became clear to me. Call it inspiration or channeling or imagination: whatever the case, Juana spoke to me as she never had before and as a result the book transformed in dramatic and unexpected ways.
3. What inspired you to write about Juana of Castile?
I grew up in southern Spain, near a ruined castle that used to be a summer residence of her parents, Queen Isabel and Fernando. I clambered about in that castle and knew she had lived there; in a way, she was a part of my world. Every school child grows up hearing the story of Juana la Loca; we even sing a childish rhyme about her. But when I first visited her tomb in Granada, I was fascinated by the sight of her effigy. It literally haunted me. I immediately wanted to know more about her. My grandmother was a celebrated theatre actress for years in Spain and had played Juana on stage; she introduced me to the drama inherent in the legend. She even took me to see a movie that was made in the 1940s about Juana, which had become a classic. I was entranced. I couldn’t get enough. I must have seen that movie over fifty times. I studied history in school, too, and Juana was one of those characters that everyone shuddered over, the poor mad queen. I remember thinking, What if she wasn’t really mad? Even then I had this sense that her side of the story had been buried under historical propaganda. The legend was dark and macabre and very juicy, but it felt like a legend, not the truth. Years later, when I began to pursue writing seriously in the hope of publication, I decided to write about her after my first novel didn’t sell. I set out to find out as much as I could, and the more I researched, the more inspired I became. Here was this woman who was locked up for forty-six years, accused of being insane, when in fact she may have been anything but. I felt she deserved a chance to speak for herself, and historical fiction was the perfect vehicle for it. Still, now and then I get e-mail from the occasional reader who tells me I’ve played fast and loose with her story; that everyone around her agreed she was unstable and unfit to rule. It shows how deep the legend has permeated, that for some readers the mere fact that I’ve chosen to depict a different version of Juana must mean I’m inaccurate. It could be I’m wrong; after all, I never met her. But I’m not convinced the popular version of her story is accurate, either.
4. I’m planning on visiting Spain in the next few years and, especially after reading your book, I can’t wait! Can you share with us a couple of places in the novel that you’d recommend visiting?
Absolutely! Spain is a marvelous country, full of contrast and vibrancy, much like Juana herself. I’d say a trip to Castile, the central part of Spain, is essential, as it’s where most of Juana’s story took place. The city of Toledo near Madrid is a medieval marvel and the Cathedral was embellished by Queen Isabel; also near Madrid is the Castle of La Mota, where Juana staged her infamous act of defiance. About three hours from Madrid is the city of Burgos, where you can visit the Gothic cathedral where Juana first declared herself queen; the Casa del Cordon, where Philip of Hapsburg died, is now a bank but the stone knotted façade remains intact. In southern Spain, you can visit the mountain city of Granada, the last stronghold of the Moors, and the stunning Moorish palace of the Alhambra.
5. Do you mind telling us what you’re working on now?
I’ve just finished a novel about Catherine de Medici, which will be published by Ballantine Books in 2010. Catherine de Medici is a much misunderstood and maligned woman in history, accused of some of the 16th century’s most heinous crimes, including the Massacre of St Bartholomew. She’s been called ruthless, ambitious and cruel; she truly has a black legend attached to her name. But during my research I uncovered a different picture of this Italian woman who became mother of the last Valois kings and one of France’s most influential queens. She had immense perseverance, loyalty, intelligence, and tolerance. She loved animals and detested the senseless waste of war. In an era of savage religious conflict, she steered France to safety. She’s interesting and complex; and I had an incredible time slipping into her skin. I’m very proud of this book. Though it was exacting and I had to revise it a few times to get it right, in the end I think I’ve done her justice.
6. How about favorite authors? Do you have any favorite authors or books we should be reading while we’re waiting for your next book, or perhaps seeking out your first?
I don’t have any favorite authors, per se, simply because I like so many for different reasons. Historical fiction books I’ve really enjoyed recently include Robin Maxwell’s Signora da Vinci; Karen Maitland’s Company of Liars; Vanora Benett’s Figures in Silk; Michelle Moran’s The Heretic Queen; Karen Essex’s Stealing Athena; David Blixt’s Master of Verona; and Judith Merkle Riley’s The Water Devil. All are well worth your time and money!
Many, many thanks to C.W. Gortner for answering my questions! The Last Queen was released in paperback on May 5th and has been published in 10 countries. It’s available from Amazon and Amazon UK.
 Summary via the publisher:
“The Last Prince of the Mexican Empire is a sweeping historical novel of Mexico during the short, tragic, at times surreal, reign of Emperor Maximilian and his court. Even as the American Civil War raged north of the border, a clique of Mexican conservative exiles and clergy convinced Louis Napoleon to invade Mexico and install the Archduke of Austria, Maximilian von Habsburg, as Emperor. A year later, the childless Maximilian took custody of the two year old, half-American, Prince Agustín de Iturbide y Green, making the toddler the Heir Presumptive. Maximilian’s reluctance to return the child to his distraught parents, even as his empire began to fall, and the Empress Carlota descended into madness, ignited an international scandal. This lush, grand read is based on the true story and illuminates both the cultural roots of Mexico and the political development of the Americas.”
This work of historical fiction really sounds just like something I would love. In some ways, I definitely did. The prose is luminous and the story is compelling. As a reader, I wanted to know what happened next and whether or not Alicia and Angelo got their son back. I enjoyed feeling like I was learning something; this is a period I know very little about and I always enjoy learning more. I appreciated in huge amounts the author’s note with bibliography in the back of the book, particularly the bit about how she became interested, and I know I will now go off to read about Agustín and his family.
I loved the descriptions of scenery, too. Before I quote, I’d like to clarify that my copy is an ARC, and this text may not be the final version. Anyway, take a completely random example:
On the other side of the glass, the horizon, jagged with mountains, is paling, and the snowcaps of the volcanos tinged a fiery lavender, the exact shade, it occurs to Maximilian, of the inner lip of a Phalaenopsis orchid. For the past month, it has rained almost every afternoon, and sometimes all through the night, but this afternoon, the clouds, titanic puzzle pieces, have sailed apart to reveal a stretch of translucent ocean blue. To the east, a cloud bank soft as charcoal smudges the sierra; closer in, an island cloud shoots out swords of gold. The bids are coming in to their roosts around the lake in the park below. An eagle skims the tops of the ahuehuetes. In the distance, church bells begin to gong and chime.
A southern twilight: can there be anything in this world more sublime?
– p. 164
Beautiful, isn’t it? The whole book is like that. Mayo has a way with words.
All that said, I had one definite problem with the book. I found my mind wandering, usually when the story was focused on Maximilian or one of the other European leaders. I had a very hard time relating to any of the characters, in fact. The emperor and his wife were extremely unsympathetic, particularly Maximilian. I could not understand or agree with any of his decisions. This is in no way the fault of the author or even of the book, since I don’t think I’d have liked the real life guy any better than his fictional representation. As an example, he complains about a contract his cousin bullied him into signing only to bully Alicia into signing a contract in the same way, then he is shocked when she protests. The history is interesting, the people are a little infuriating. Of course, this is probably an entirely accurate picture of a 19th century monarch, convinced of the superiority of his own bloodline over every other person on the planet, but it absolutely annoyed me. I believe the way he was written didn’t help much, though, using “one” instead of “I” and putting everything in the third person. It gives a very accurate picture of his spoiled and superior behavior but makes it more or less impossible for the reader to feel any affection towards him. Then again, who would feel sympathy towards a man who basically stole a child from his mother?
I did like the characters who weren’t self-serving and self-righteous, but there weren’t many of them. Lupa, Alicia at times, and Dona Juliana all endeared me to them, but their parts in the story are small and scarce.
My honest opinion is that this is a very good book. The writing is lovely, the setting is amazing, and the story is intriguing. The characters, however well-developed, were impossible for me to feel anything for, though, and that was a bit of a disappointment. I would recommend it if you can get past their arrogance.
This book is available from Amazon and Amazon UK.
 Infanta Isabella of Castile and Leon is that priceless jewel in a failing country, a skilled leader, but when she is young, no one has a chance to find out. She is exiled from court by her impotent half-brother the king, nearly married off to a much older, unappealing man, and even thrust in a dungeon to prevent her from gaining visibility. Only when Isabella is officially named heir to the throne does she begin to take power for herself, starting with her choice of husband. Ferdinand, heir to Aragon and king of Sicily, is not only handsome but her path towards the unification of Spain. Together, Ferdinand and Isabella pursue this course, bringing Spain to the forefront of power in Europe in one short reign.
I’m going to start off by saying that since this is a reissue of an older historical novel, the history is outdated. Knowing that, I managed to not get annoyed when an envoy from Richard, duke of Gloucester (with a withered arm, no less!) appeared offering his hand in marriage to Isabella, suggesting that he would be king someday. At the time Richard would also have been a teenager and hardly convinced of his place in the English royal succession, much less in a position to negotiate his own marriages. Sorry, I nitpick. To contrast with a positive example, I was just thrilled when Schoonover mentioned that fifteenth-century people knew the world was round.
The novel also reflects certain 1950s values which I found alternately charming and strange in a historical novel. Isabella is clearly a mighty monarch. She is clever and at times ruthless. She also, however, has a strange predilection for weeping and acknowledging that her husband needs to do manly things away from her occasionally, like lead armies, and she arranges little tasks behind his back so that he’ll feel useful, like a man should. I felt almost as though Isabella had to be a housewife AND a queen to satisfy everyone’s ideal. Ferdinand is constantly upset when she does something without him or has power that he does not share. Maybe I’m reading too much into that – after all, how many kings really want their queens to be more powerful than them? – but it stuck out a little to me.
All that said, this novel had a wonderful sort of charm that I wouldn’t discount at all. It feels old-fashioned, but in a lovely sit in an armchair and get absorbed in an enthralling story feel. Everything has a slightly magical, ethereal edge to it. This is a land long ago past and there is a tinge of nostalgia throughout the entire book that is eminently compelling. Despite Isabella’s fluctuation between dominant and submissive, I really liked her and particularly her friend, Beatriz. I liked this book. It reminded me of the books I used to read when I was a kid, before I particularly cared who was who in the historical world. It’s like a visit to my grandma’s house. Everything there is familiar and comfortable but has a bit of an aged feel to it. There is no computer, no DVD player, but a set of wedding china and pictures from when my parents were younger than I am now. That is how this book feels.
In that sense, I would probably recommend it! It was clearly fairly popular in its day, and while it does feel aged, it still has a lovely story to tell. Maybe all the dots don’t add up anymore, but they still make a picture worth looking at.
Buy Queen’s Cross on Amazon.
 Summary from the publisher:
Palace intrigue, romance, and illicit affairs—Rebecca Dean has written a glorious novel that will sweep Philippa Gregory fans off their feet.
Delia Chandler, an eighteen-year-old Southern girl, marries Viscount Ivor Conisborough just before World War II, becoming part of the Windsor court. It’s every girl’s dream come true. But Delia is jolted from her pleasant life when she realizes, after the birth of her two daughters, that Ivor chose her only to bear an heir to his estate. Shortly thereafter, she begins an affair with her husband’s handsome, titled, and frequently scandalous best friend.
When Conisborough is appointed as an adviser to King Fuad of Egypt, Delia exchanges one palace circle for another, far different one. While she sees Egypt as a place of exile, her two daughters regard Egypt as their home. Only when war comes to Cairo—and Delia finally reveals the secret she has kept for so long—can she begin to heal the divisions separating her from those she loves.
Rebecca Dean’s irresistible combination of real events and masterful storytelling will keep readers fascinated until the very last page.
This book didn’t capture me, I’ll start by saying that. The category of “historical fiction lite” applies perfectly here. There are historical characters, but only on the sidelines. The actual main characters fell flat for me, particularly Delia, who frustrated me with her frivolity and total inability to relate or talk to her daughters. The novel’s viewpoint rotates from Delia to Petronella to Davina, but I had the distinct feeling that the girl who was narrating seemed different from the girl who had been described before or after. Character changes over time, but it wasn’t convincing. Neither were the love stories, even though in retrospect it’s as though the entire novel is a rotating battle through romance. Obviously, I read romance, and shouldn’t have a problem with such a focus, but the book felt too shallow for me. This is the lead-up to World War II, after all! Maybe the high society didn’t feel it but everyone else did. The only concession to the times is one of the sisters’ charity work. Even the move to Egypt isn’t explored the way it might have been and feels very much like the British court all over again rather than a different culture. We are thrown a few bones in the way of revolution, but not many details or actions take place.
In the end, reading this book was little like watching a soap opera. The characters are caricatures, the situations are ridiculous, and none of it seems to reflect on real life events in anything but a shallow way. Moreover, literally everyone is having an affair, which may have been the case but was still repugnant to me. The book is enjoyable in a light, frothy way that doesn’t appeal to me. Had I approached it as a light read, in the vein of one of my romances, I may have been able to get more into it, but I tend to think of historical fiction as deeper, even when it focuses on a royal court. This was not, and it disappointed me.
Check out Palace Circle on Amazon.
 Lady Dona St. Columb leads a life in London with which she has grown tired. After doing something that even she finds reprehensible, she takes her children and flees to her husband’s country estate, Navron, trying her best to get away from him, his friends, and her own scandalous reputation. While walking at Navron, she discovers someone who helps her to completely reevaluate herself, her life, and learn to be a woman that she likes rather than a woman she despises.
My expectations for this book were about medium. I loved Rebecca and really did not care for The House on the Strand. I really enjoyed this book, though. I tend to always appreciate books about self-discovery, and Dona does a great deal of discovering. She has a lot of hard looks at her life and what she’s doing with it and she figures she wants something else. That something else is actually a lot more scandalous than her current life, but she definitely grows as a person, especially regarding the decisions she makes towards the end.
Du Maurier seems to have a thing for characters without real names. The Frenchman has a name, Jean-Benoit, but almost never goes by it. He exists as an entity, onto which we can place our expectations of a pirate, a Frenchman, a romantic hero, and he can fulfill them. He’s got a personality, but it’s almost as though his lack of name and real characterization makes him less distinct and almost legendary in his exploits. I think this is a really interesting device that du Maurier uses and it really adds something to Dona’s infatuation with him; most women have a thing for the mysterious and dangerous man.
I also just love the prose in this book. It’s sparse but beautiful at the same time. Let me give you an example that speaks for itself, the first few sentences:
When the east wind blows up Helford River the shining waters become troubled and disturbed and the little waves beat angrily upon the sandy shores. The short seas break above the bar at ebb-tide, and the waders fly inland to the mud-flats, their wings skimming the surface, and calling to one another as they go. Only the gulls remain, wheeling and crying above the foam, diving now and again in search of food, their grey feathers glistening with the salt spray.
– p. 1, Frenchman’s Creek.
For me, that evokes some gorgeous imagery and is a fantastic way to set up a book about a pirate and a lady, don’t you think? Du Maurier’s prose is very distinctive and when the story is good, it works extremely well. This is the case with Frenchman’s Creek. The story is intriguing and the book is an absolute pleasure to read. I had a lovely time with this, and I think you would too.
Buy Frenchman’s Creek on Amazon. It’s just been re-released by Sourcebooks and this is a gorgeous edition. If you’ve been interested in reading more by Daphne du Maurier, or you’re looking for a great, well-written piece of fiction, I recommend this book.
 Aged only thirteen, Lady Eleanor de Clare is contracted into marriage by her father to Hugh le Despenser in order to pay a debt. Though nervous, especially on her wedding night, she and Hugh quickly fall in love. When her brother dies, Eleanor comes into a much greater inheritance than she or her comparatively lower status husband ever expected. As the niece of the king, Eleanor places Hugh in a position of great power and as he begins to take advantage of that, Eleanor’s loyalty is tested as she discovers what it’s like to be the wife of a traitor and the beloved niece of a failed king.
This is one big, thick book. I liked that each chapter heading had the months and years covered because otherwise it would have been difficult to keep track of just how much time passes between events and there is a handy guide to all of the historical figures right at the beginning of the book. This is necessary to cover Eleanor’s life and relations. The author keeps to the more interesting parts, so while the book is long, the plot doesn’t bog down even when it moves more slowly and it isn’t too hard to keep track of who is who.
By the end, I grew quite fond of the characters, particularly Eleanor. I found it impossible to like Hugh though. I know way too much about what he did, and I’m sure my opinion of him is colored by a particular professor’s attitude, to ever feel much sympathy for him. I did feel sorry for Eleanor. To me, it seems perfectly logical that Hugh would hide his nefarious doings from his wife, especially given they didn’t see each other all that often once he became powerful.
I was surprised by feeling sorry for Edward II. I always have to some extent but never considered what his personality may have been like, mostly just thought of him as a very poor king. In any case, I could still feel for Eleanor and understand why she loved such men, which I thought was quite impressive considering I formed my opinion of these particular historical figures years ago. I did find one of her acts particularly unlikely and a little off-putting, but given the author says in the end note that there was a rumor about it at the time, I can’t argue with it except to say that if I was Eleanor I would NOT have done that. There was another rumor that I was hoping wouldn’t turn up, but it did. I know this is horribly vague, but I don’t want to give the story away. I can say that from what I know, Susan Higginbotham has done a terrific job with historical accuracy, and even if I squirm away from certain things or wouldn’t include them personally, there is basis for all of them. There is also one of those author’s notes which I love so much at the back of the book explaining what’s real and what’s not.
So, now that I’ve ranted on about history, did I actually like the book? Yes, I did. It’s excellent for a historical saga and if you’re interested in medieval England in fiction, I’d highly recommend this work. Convincing characters, historical accuracy, deep plot with a fair share of scandal and excitement that kept my attention despite being long and familiar; this book is historical fiction worth reading.
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