Gillian Linscott

A thoroughly enjoyable historical novel! Normally, I loathe overly independent and contemporary sounding heroines, but Peacock's Liberty Lane is quite endearing. Her actions, even if socially unusual, seemed realistic and had grounding in the story. I found her very likable and sympathetic. The plot was fast paced, interesting, filled with details without being cumbersome. A very fun read!

It is difficult to be the prim and proper daughter of a military father and a snobbish mother in 1914 England. [It's probably difficult to be a child of such parents in any given era.] Giving in to the pressure of perpetual perfection, did Verona finally commit suicide? Or was something more sinister at play? Found with a clever noose around her neck, it looks like the former. When details are revealed, readers must consider the era. Left-wing politics are raging, women are fighting for the show more vote, and Verona went from being a well-mannered daughter to a runaway, albeit talented, artist living in squalor with a group of Bohemian anarchists. Her life while she lived and breathed was fraught with contradictions, but it is her death which confounds us more. Her autopsy reveals she had been pregnant and had a great deal of morphine in her system. Her friends and family report her behavior was so strange they hardly knew her anymore. Maybe she led a promiscuous life. Maybe she was an addict. Was Verona's cousin to blame? Suffragette and political agitator, Nell Bray had little contact with Verona; she barely knew the girl, and yet she finds herself trying to solve the mystery. Curious by nature, Nell wonders how a young girl from a well-to-do family could end up deceased on her parents' property. Is her strange death a message to her society-slaved parents? Or was someone else to blame for her demise? show less

I rarely pay attention to book reviews which proclaim any novel to be 'a real page-turner' that the reviewer simply 'couldn't put down'. The second novel in Caro Peacock's Liberty Lane series, however, finds me sorely tempted to employ such enthusiastic praise myself. I enjoyed the first novel, Death at Dawn, which I read last year, but must have been in the right mood when I picked up the sequel today, because I read from cover to cover without pause. Really!

My introduction to Liberty show more Lane, an amateur lady detective of independent spirit if not means, was slightly hazy when I started reading, and for once I was glad of a brief update in the first few chapters. After the death of her father and the departure of her brother, Liberty has established herself in a modest home of her own, with the company of Mrs Martley the midwife, and a protective circle of friends including Amos Legge the groom, and musicians Toby Kennedy and Daniel Suter, old friends of Liberty's father. Confident and practical, Libby is outraged by her brother's suggestion that she should marry Daniel for security, but when she goes to talk with her friend at the theatre, she finds that his heart is already engaged to a young dancer. After a catfight on stage, Daniel's lover is framed for the poisoning of the prima donna, and Liberty is once again personally involved in a murder mystery.

Even though I will admit to not being overly familiar with the dawn of the Victorian era, the historical accuracy - and atmosphere - of Caro Peacock's novels are near flawless. From the streets of London to the workings of a theatre, the reader is drawn into Liberty's world. The first person narrative is also engaging, and Liberty is the type of strong, active heroine who can carry a whole novel. Her voice is friendly without being introspective, instructive but not patronising, and filled with personality. Yes, the 'Victorian lady detective' is a rather overused character trope at the moment, but even though Liberty has rather radical views for her time, situation and gender, her independence is somehow fitting and never anachronistic. Daniel is also endearing, and I hope that he returns in the next two stories.

The identity of the murderer kept me guessing until the end, but then I never try to solve the mystery ahead of the detective anyway. The clues are there, I think, and the denouement contains a surprising twist. Liberty's clandestine alliance with Disraeli, her mysterious yet respectful sponsor, continues from the first novel, and he looks set to make a career out of her amateur sleuthing. I can't wait to read on! show less

The Liberty Lane books by Caro Peacock have seemingly undergone a rather confusing repackaging for the US market, retitled as 'A Foreign/Dangerous/Family Affair' instead of 'Death at Dawn/Death of a Dancer/A Corpse in Shining Armour', and faced with different cover designs. The positive reviews that prompted me into borrowing the first in the series from the library, to test the water, were obviously written by American readers, so some confusion ensued when looking up the books for myself! show more I'm not complaining - both versions fit into the generic branding of 'historical fiction', only the US covers suggest a later era than the UK illustration - and the publishers probably know what they are doing, but it does seem rather like overkill in this case.

Moving onto the book itself, Caro Peacock's heroine and her first adventure would also seem to suggest an American author, or at the very least, a story written for the American market. Liberty Lane, who sounds like either Superman's girlfriend or a porn star, is a young lady raised by an unconventional father of a republican persuasion (Liberty's brother, only mentioned in this instalment, is called Thomas Fraternity - and as Liberty quips, had her mother lived long enough, there would probably have been an Equality to add to the family also!) Not only does she echo her father's belief in the French and American constitutions and resent the unfair balance of power in her own country, but Liberty has been educated beyond the means and requirements of her class and gender - she can speak French, Spanish and Latin, read music and play the piano, guitar and flute, can ride like a champion and enjoys the opera! All are standard talents for the independent lady detective, empowering at the same time as allowing access to the upper classes, and Liberty is no exception. She is aware of social conventions, and her role in them as a woman forced to support herself, but her upbringing allows her some freedom to buck tradition and the laws of etiquette - walking without a chaperone, talking to strange men alone, addressing those 'above her station', and of course, dressing and behaving like a young lad instead of a young lady.

The narrative and dialogue also tend to make Liberty's proto-Victorian adventures accessible to a modern audience (the story is set in 1837, somewhere between the death of King William IV and the accession of Queen Victoria to the throne). Although the author has done her research - and there is a list of further non-fiction reading in the back of the book to prove it - the conversations are for the most part quite informal and only lightly flavoured with historical form and address. My only sticking point is that the Queen is referred to as 'Little Vicky', when she would have been known as 'Little Drina' if anything (her full name was Alexandrina Victoria), but that's only minor artistic licence in a book where Disraeli becomes an important secondary character! Read as an enjoyable historical mystery and not a faithful reproduction of pre-Victorian society, then the story is both informative and entertaining.

I quite liked Liberty, despite her unusual name and modern thinking, and found myself thoroughly captivated by the conspiracy she stumbled upon after her father's death. The Mandeville family, particularly Celia and the children, were vividly drawn, and the villains lacked only dark mustachioes to twirl - the double-play amongst the family was also well-handled and quite surprising (I never try to get ahead of the plot, so I'm easily shocked!)

A quick, light read, which I shall hope to replicate soon, with the other (double) titles in the series! show less