Murder in Westminster, by Vanessa Riley

First in series; because reasons, I have an ARC of the second book in the series; given how much praise the author’s work has gotten from people whose taste I respect, I’d rather read the series in order, so here we are.

Beware: editing issues

Murder in Westminster, by Vanessa Riley

Set in London in the early 1800s, the bulk of the novel is narrated in first person, past tense, by one Abigail Carrington Monroe. A biracial woman from humble origins–her mother had been enslaved in Jamaica, her father is a white solicitor of Scottish descent–her marriage to Captain James Monroe, Lord Worthing has elevated her to the rank of Baroness, and also isolated her in more ways than the obvious (more on this below).

The prologue, however, is narrated in third person, present tense, from the perspective of Juliet, the flighty and promiscuous spouse of Abigail’s next door neighbor, the renowned naval hero Captain Henderson, showing the reader the last few minutes of her life, and up to her violent death.

The publisher sets up the story thus:

Discovering a body on her property presents Lady Abigail Worthing with more than one pressing problem. The victim is Juliet, the wife of her neighbor, Stapleton Henderson. Although Abigail has little connection with the lady in question, she expects to be under suspicion. Abigail’s skin color and her mother’s notorious past have earned her a certain reputation among the ton, and no amount of wealth or status will eclipse it.

Abigail can’t divulge that she was attending a secret pro-abolition meeting at the time of the murder. To her surprise, Henderson offers her an alibi. Though he and Juliet were long estranged, he feels a certain loyalty to his late wife. Perhaps together, he and Abigail can learn the truth. . . . Abigail, whose marriage was not a love match, knows well how appearances can deceive—and how treacherous London’s high society can be. Yet who would have killed Juliet, and why? Taking the reins of her life in a way she never has before, Abby intends to find out—but she may uncover more danger than she ever imagined . . .

I generally try not to begin my reviews with a rant, even when I feel one is fitting, but I’m making an exception here because I think that this novel got the editorial short shrift; there are traditionally published books that clearly show how much work and care went into their production, and then there are books that show the opposite, like this one.

For starters, the blurb, and indeed the text, get the form of address wrong in ways that are quite annoying; as British author K.J. Charles says in this post, “if you are writing characters inside the system, you have to care”–see entry number 3: Baron-. Here’s the thing, all these “fussy rules” would have been all the more important for free Black people climbing social ranks in London society in the early 1800s. They couldn’t afford to get those details wrong, period.

Beyond this, there are a number of editorial oversights throughout the book; phrases like “she put her face to my cheeks” (chapter 30); the wrong character tagged during a conversation between three people; a character who is simultaneously sitting at his ease, and standing up to draw a chair back so a lady can sit; a young lady who is referred to as both a Miss and a Mrs in the same conversation; words missing from sentences, rendering them nigh meaningless; and, at one point, someone tosses a rapier–a 40 inches long sword!–in a drawer.

Normally, these things would just make my eye twitch a bit, but here, because of the narrative voice, they really got on my nerves–when reading a mystery, I want to work hard to figure out the clues, not which character is speaking at any given time.

Abigail’s narration is a mix of quasi-stream-of-consciousness musings and straightforward recounting of events and conversations, and the transitions between them wasn’t always clear to me. Between that, and the frequent hints to backstories that are never fully explained, I struggled to follow the story.

And here I insert a digression to admit that yes, we readers are the worst. I will balk at one too many “as you know, Bob” expositions, but I will also confess myself lost and confused when the characters constantly reference a shared history and events I am not privy to, because it makes their motivations obscure, and their actions and reactions feel random rather than consistent with characterization.

With all that said, there are two main and two minor plotlines in the book. Of the main ones, one concerns Abigail’s support for the abolitionist movement, the other the murder of Juliet Henderson, and the only connection between the two is that the former occasionally takes Abigail places where she sees things related to the latter.

One of the minor plot threads concern Captain Henderson’s attraction to Abigail, who’s married to a man he admires and considers a friend–for all that said man has been gone to sea for close to two years–and her own struggle with loneliness and what feels like cold rejection from the man she married.

The other revolves around Henderson’s much younger sister, Mary, who’s not yet fifteen, and whose closest female guidance came from her sister-in-law Juliet, by all accounts a promiscuous flirt who had multiple lovers, openly and literally everywhere; and Abigail’s love and fears for her half sister Dinah, who ran away on the day of Abigail’s wedding.

I felt compelled to keep reading, to try to untangle all the different threads, and to understand Abigail; but while the mystery was compelling, and Abigail figures out the truth, the reading experience wasn’t exactly enjoyable for me, and, while cleverly done, I didn’t find the denouement satisfactory at all.

Still, I am intrigued by the characters, and interested to see what the author will do with the dangling threads in Abigail’s life.

Murder in Westminster gets a 7.00 out of 10

* * * *

Edited to add: I honestly think that this would have been a 9 or over book if the editing had been better, because even with all the annoyances I kept reading. What’s really enraging is that this is not an old book–it’s from last year. All the commitment to publishing non-white authors means little if you don’t give their work the same care you give your white authors. (I said this on mastodon as a reply to a comment there on this review)

Further edit: the research is excellent, and the author’s note at the end backs several of the plot points in the novel, as well as the world building (race relations between white society and free Blacks in London at the time).