Elizabeth Pewsey (1948–2016)

Take one part Josephine Tey’s Allen Grant and one part Agatha Christie’s Tommy Beresford, then add a soupçon of G.M. Malliet’s Max Tudor, and you’d have author Elizabeth Edmondson’s A Man of Some Repute, the debut novel in what promises to be a delectable historical mystery series.

It’s 1953, and the mysterious Hugo Hawksworth arrives in the quiet English village of Selchester with his lively 13-year-old sister Georgia in tow. He’s supposed to be a statistician at Thorn Hall, show more but the entire village knows that he — like everyone else who works for Sir Bernard at The Hall — is actually Special Branch or something near enough.

In early 1947, Lord Selchester disappeared from his home, Selchester Castle, during a raging blizzard; his pretty, selfish daughter Lady Sonia Richmond has been counting down the time until she can have him declared legally dead and sell the old pile. She’s spared the trouble when her father’s bones turn up in the castle’s chapel. That re-opens the case, and Inspector MacLeod, who led the initial investigation, returns. He and Hawksworth combine forces to determine who did the old peer in. Edmondson does yeoman’s work crafting an intriguing mystery with suspects galore and a Golden Age of mystery sensibility that’s an homage rather than a cliché. Indeed, Edmondson has perfectly captured the atmosphere and dialogue evocative of the English 1950s, when rationing still held sway but the country was restless for something new and better. Further, Edmondson infuses the novel with plenty of intrigue and suspense.

If Hugo’s playing Tommy Beresford, then the role of Tuppence goes to Freya Wryton, Lord Selchester’s free-spirited niece. It’s no spoiler to say Hugo and Freya are likely to get together before this series gets too old. I loved A Man of Some Repute, and I can’t wait to devour the sequel, A Question of Inheritance.

A Man of Some Repute’s Hugo Hawksworth put me in mind of Max Tutor; in addition to the two of them having spy connections, the audiobooks for both are read by the magnificent Michael Page, who brings his great talent to bringing both Hugo’s Selchester And Max’s Nether Monkslip to life. show less

Elizabeth Edmondson’s A Villa in Italy owes a large debt to her namesake, Elizabeth von Arnim and her magical The Enchanted April. As in van Arnim’s book, four dissimilar people (ladies in van Arnim’s version) descend on a villa in Italy, each vaguely dissatisfied with their lives, and their time on the continent changes them and their entire lives.

Edmondson takes that premise and adds a mystery. In her novel, set after World War II, the foursome — an opera singer, a floundering show more mystery novelist, a New York banker with a guilty conscience, and a physicist distraught that his work at Los Alamos led to nuclear destruction — travel to the Villa Dante in Liguria to claim legacies. The foursome are strangers not only to each other, but none knew their benefactor, Beatrice Malaspina, either. Who was the mysterious Beatrice Malaspina? And why did she mention these strangers in her will? And are there other secrets yet to unfold?

I adored Edmondson’s fabulous series featuring intelligence officer Hugo Hawksworth (A Man of Some Repute and A Question of Inheritance, the novella A Youthful Indiscretion thrown in for good measure), and I can’t wait for the third novel, which can’t come too soon for me. (Best of all, these are available for free for those with a Kindle Unlimited subscription.) That said, I loved, loved, loved this stand-alone novel, which will leave you feeling as contented as if you, too, had spent a few sun-dapples summer weeks at the Villa Dante. show less

In the third novel — and, sadly, last — in the series featuring spy Hugo Hawksworth and his family and friends, an atomic physicist has disappeared from near their village of Selchester. A brash zealot from Special Branch has come down from London to look into the disappearance, convinced that Dr. Bruno Rothesay has defected to the Soviet Union and that the local intelligence agents are at fault. The arrogant Inspector Jarrett (the allusion to Javert is all too obvious) will cause plenty show more of upset before Hugo, with the aid of his free-spirited friend Freya Wryton, settles the matter.

Author Elizabeth Edmondson died in 2016 before she had finished the novel, and I was dubious whether her son, Anselm Audley, would be up to the task. (His usual oeuvre is sci-fi fantasy novels.) But Audley did his mother proud in his handling of the series that debuted with
A Man of Some Repute. A Matter of Loyalty was as suspenseful and intriguing as the books that Edmondson wrote all by herself. I loved every single minute!

But Audley’s triumph proves bittersweet: He says there won’t be any further adventures for Hugo and Freya and Georgia and their delightful family and friends.

This will be the last Selchester book, and the last book of her career…. I knew enough of this one to write almost the book she intended, but I can’t do justice to the remaining books in the series. They should exist as her creations, or not at all.

So there you have it. A worthy end to a marvelous series. Thank you, Mr. Audley, for this final gift from your mother.

In the interest of full disclosure, I received this book from NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer in exchange for an honest review. show less

Another random pick from the library shelves. Elizabeth Aston's Darcy novels are like Pride and Prejudice: the next generation, in which Darcy and Lizzie's five daughters - how inspired! - have various romantic adventures, and secondary Darcy cousins intermarry. Like Cassandra, daughter of Anne de Bourgh and Thaddeus Darcy - 'His father was your grandfather's younger brother, so [Darcy] and Mr Thaddeus were first cousins', if that makes the family tree any clearer! - who also gets to keep show more her maiden name. Well done to the author for cashing in on Austen's success while creating a tangled cast of original characters, but the list of second sons and scattered relations made my head spin.

The True Darcy Spirit fell between at least three stools for me. A fair attempt at emulating Austen was eventually overpowered by Heyeresque historical romance and a melodramatic political subplot involving the Prince Regent, to the point where I didn't know what I was reading! Whereas Lauren Willig writes unabashed Regency fluff, and Carrie Bebris borrows Mr and Mrs Darcy to play detective in her cosy mysteries, Aston is all over the place. Her history is heavy-handed, full of exposition and modern views, the romance is predictable (even the maid meets her match), and most critically for an 'Austenuation', the whole thing is lacking in humour. Cassandra is nauseatingly perfect, Horatio is a new age romantic hero, and the villain of the piece is straight out of pantomime. Plus, the frequency of timely coincidences reaches ridiculous proportions - when the secondary romantic hero declared himself a German prince, I was actually snorting with laughter.

In the words of one character's literary assessment, 'the characters seemed wooden, the plot improbable, the dialogue stilted'. I dread to think how corny and convoluted the lives of the Darcy sisters - Letitia, Camilla, Alethea, Georgina and the violet-eyed Isabel (wot, no Allegra or Octavia?) - might be, but I don't think I'll be borrowing any more of Miss Aston's novels to find out. show less