I really, really wanted to like this book. And there were things I did like! But ultimately it left me more annoyed and frustrated than anything else.

The plot starts off as a classic murder mystery: a woman is found dead at a party, in a pool of blood next to the murder weapon. One of the many guests at this party is a young Jane Austen, who becomes personally invested when her brother is falsely accused.

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I actually really enjoyed the first part of this book. There was plenty of intrigue, and I liked the family link with the mystery. The more the book went on, though, the more my frustrations grew. The approach to ‘solving’ the mystery seemed to be to accuse literally everyone in increasingly dramatic and convoluted situations. Jane reminded me less of a sleuth and more of someone a little too invested in true crime who starts to take things into their own hands.

I also really didn’t like the writing style. A fast-emerging pet peeve of mine is this quasi-Regency, Lady Whistledown-esque style of writing that is obsessed with scandal and unironically describing men as ‘delectable’. While this book was far from the biggest offender, it still grated and felt quite disingenuous, especially given that this book is actually set much earlier. The Regency pastiche does have its place, but I don’t think it worked here.

There were strong elements in this book, but overall it was a disappointing read.

I received a free copy for an honest review.