Product Description

Despite his admonitions to stay away, Lady Julia arrives in Yorkshire to find Brisbane as remote and maddeningly attractive as ever. Cloistered together, they share the moldering house with the proud but impoverished remnants of an ancient family—the sort that keeps their bloodline pure and their secrets close. Lady Allenby and her daughters, dependent upon Brisbane and devastated by their fall in society, seem adrift on the moor winds, powerless to change their fortunes. But poison does not discriminate between classes….

A mystery unfolds from the rotten heart of Grimsgrave, one Lady Julia may have to solve alone, as Brisbane appears inextricably tangled in its heinous twists and turns. But blood will out, and before spring touches the craggy northern landscape, Lady Julia will have uncovered a Gypsy witch, a dark rider and a long-buried legacy of malevolence and evil.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #11567 in Books
• Published on: 2009-03-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 480 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9780778326144
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

Review
"A sassy heroine and a masterful, secretive hero. Fans of romantic mystery could ask no more - except the promised sequel." - Kirkus "This is a Victorian crime caper with cracking one-liners and sharp wit to spare." - Scott Pack "A delightfully odd collection of characters and deft period details produce a rich and funny read." - Publishers Weekly"

About the Author
With degrees in English and History and a particular love of Regency and Victorian times, Deanna Raybourn is a committed anglophile, who, at her husband's insistence, gave up teaching to devote her energies to writing.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Julia Grey, I would rather see you hanged than watch any sister of mine go haring off after a man who will not have her," my brother Bellmont raged. "And Portia, I am thoroughly appalled that you would not only condone such behaviour, but abet it by accompanying Julia. You are her elder sister. You ought to set an example." I sighed and stared longingly at the whisky decanter. Portia and I had known that the summons to our father's London townhouse was a thinly-veiled ambush, but I do not think either of us had expected the attack to be so quick, nor so brutal. We had scarcely taken our seats in Father's comfortable library before our eldest brother launched into a tirade against our proposed visit to Yorkshire. Father, ensconced behind his vast mahogany desk, said nothing. His expression was inscrutable behind his half-moon spectacles.

Catching my wistful glance, Portia rose and poured us both glasses of whisky. "Take this, dearest," she urged. "Bellmont is in rare form. He will surely rail at us until supper unless he has an apoplexy first," she finished cheerfully.

Bellmont's already high colour deepened alarmingly. "You may well jest about this, but it is unacceptable for Julia to accept an invitation to stay with Brisbane at his country house. He is an unmarried man, and she is a widow of thirty. Even if you are there to chaperone, Portia, you must admit, it would be a complete violation of propriety."

"Oh, Julia hasn't been invited," Portia responded helpfully. "I was. Julia rather invited herself."

Bellmont clicked his teeth together and drew in a deep breath, his nostrils going white at the edges. "If that is supposed to offer me comfort, it is a cold one, I assure you."

Portia shrugged and sipped at her whisky. Bellmont turned to me, deliberately softening his tone. At more than forty years of age and heir to our father's earldom, he had long since grown accustomed to having his own way. It was only with his eccentric family that his success was mixed. With a cunning blend of sternness, cajolery, and logic, he was sometimes able to bend us to his will, but just as often he found himself not speaking to more than one of his nine siblings. Now he attempted an appeal to my reason.

"Julia, I understand you were quite bereft when Edward died. You were very young to be a widow, and I am sympathetic to the fact that you felt compelled to search out your husband's murderer." I raised my brows. He had not been so sympathetic at the time. When I had unmasked my husband's killer in a dramatic scene during which my town-house was burned down and I nearly lost my life, Bellmont had actually stopped speaking to me for two months. Apparently, murder is a failing of the middle classes only. Aristocrats are supposed to be above such unpleasantness.

He went on. "I realise your connection with Mr. Brisbane was a necessary evil at the time. He has proved himself a thoroughly capable inquiry agent and, mercifully, a discreet one. But your association with this man cannot continue. I do not know what Father was thinking to invite him to Bellmont Abbey at Christmas, but it was badly done, and it has given you ideas."

"And God knows women mustn't have ideas," Portia murmured into her glass. Bellmont did not even bother to look at her. We were well-accustomed to Portia's pointed asides.

I looked helplessly at Father, who merely shrugged and poured himself a glass of whisky. If Bellmont continued on we should become a family of inebriates.

"Monty," I began, deliberately sweetening my tone, "I do appreciate your concern. But Father has already explained to you Brisbane was there to pursue an investigation. He left before the family arrived for Christmas. You did not even see him. I have never invited him to accompany me to your home, nor have I ever foisted him upon you in any social situation, although he would not be entirely out of place. His great-uncle is the Duke of Aberdour, you know."

Bellmont rubbed a hand over his face, smoothing the furrows that marked his handsome brow. "My dear, his antecedents are quite immaterial. He is in trade. He is a half-Gypsy vagabond who makes his living by dealing in the sordid miseries of others. His exploits are fodder for the newspapers, and we have been dragged through those rather enough at present," he finished, shooting Father a look that was ripe with bitterness.

Father waved an indolent hand. "Do not blame me, boy. I did my best to sweep the entire matter under the carpet, as did Brisbane." That much was true. The newspapers, through Father's influence and Brisbane's connections, had taken little enough notice of the events at Bellmont Abbey, although a few rather distasteful morsels had found their way into print.

Bellmont swung round to face Father while Portia and I huddled closer to one another on the sofa and drank our whisky.

"I am not unaware of your efforts, Father. But the press have always been interested in our little peccadilloes, and you have simply not done enough to keep them at bay, particularly when you were so indiscreet as to entertain your mistress at the same Christmas party as your children and grandchildren."

"A hit, a palpable hit," Portia whispered. I stifled a giggle. Bellmont was being rather unfair to Father. He had exercised as much authority over the press in the matter as he could. Considering what had actually transpired at the Abbey, we were lucky it had not become the scandal of the century.

"Madame de Bellefleur is not my mistress," Father said, puffing his cheeks indignantly. "She is my friend, and I shall thank you to speak of her respectfully."

"It does not matter what she is," Bellmont pointed out acidly. "It only matters what they say she is. Do you have any notion how damaging such stories could be to me, to my children? Orlando is considering a run for Parliament when he is established, and Virgilia is to be presented this season. Her chances for a good match could be completely overthrown by your conduct, and it will not improve matters for her aunts to be seen chasing off to Yorkshire to stay with a bachelor of questionable reputation."

Portia stirred. "I should think the fact that I live openly with a woman would be far more damaging to her chances for a society marriage," she remarked coolly.

Bellmont flinched. "Your relationship with Jane is something to which I have become reconciled over these past ten years. It is a credit to Jane that she lives quietly and does not care to move in society."

Portia's eyes glinted ominously, and I laid a warning hand on her wrist. "Jane is the love of my life, Bellmont, not a pet to be trained."

Father held up a hand. "Enough. I will not have you quarrelling like dogs over an old bone. I thought we buried that particular issue long ago. Bellmont, you forget yourself. I have permitted you to abuse your sisters and me quite long enough."

Bellmont opened his mouth to protest, but Father waved him off. "You have a care for your sisters' reputations, and that does you credit, but I must observe for a man so often hailed as one of the greatest brains of his generation, you are remarkably obtuse about women. You've been married going on twenty years, boy. Have you not yet learned that it is easier to pull a star down from the heavens than to bend a woman to your will? The most tractable of women will kick over the traces if you insist upon obedience and, in case it has escaped your notice, your sisters are not the most tractable of women. No, if they are intent upon going to Yorkshire, go they will."

Portia flicked a triumphant gaze at Bellmont who had gone quite pale under the angry wash of red over his fair complexion. I took another sip of my whisky and wondered not for the first time why my parents had found it necessary to have so many children.

"Father," Bellmont began, but Father rose, straightening his poppy-coloured waistcoat and raising a hand.

"I know. You are worried for your children, as you should be, and I will see that their chances are not damaged by the actions of their aunts." He paused, for dramatic effect no doubt, then pronounced in ringing tones, "Your sisters will travel under the protection of their brother, Valerius."

Portia and I gaped at him, stunned to silence. Bellmont was quicker off the mark. Mollified, he nodded at Father. "Very well. Valerius is thoroughly incapable of controlling them, but at least his presence will lend the appearance of respectability. Thank you, Father." He turned to leave, giving us a piercing look. "I suppose it would be too much to ask that you conduct yourselves like ladies, but do try," he offered as a parting shot.

Portia was still sputtering when the footman shut the door behind him. "Honestly, Father, I do not see why you didn't have him drowned as a child. You've four other sons, what's one at the bottom of the pond?"

Father shrugged. "I would have drowned him myself had I known he would turn out Tory. I know you want to remonstrate with me over the suggestion of travelling with Valerius, but I want to talk to your sister. Leave us to chat a moment, will you, my dear?" he said to Portia.

She rose gracefully and turned, pulling a face at me as she went. I tried not to fidget, but I felt suddenly shy and uncertain. I smiled up at Father winsomely and attempted to divert the conversation.

"Valerius will be simply furious with you, Father. You know he hates to leave London, and he is devoted to his work with Dr. Bent. He's just bought a new microscope."

It might have been a good diversion under other circumstances. Father could rant easily for an hour on the subject of Valerius and his unsuitable interest in medicine. But he had other game afoot.

He turned to me, folding his arms across his chest. "Do not look to distract me," he said sternly. "What the devil do you mean by hunting Brisbane like a fox? Monty is right, though I would not give him the satisfaction of saying so in front of him. It is damned unseemly and shows a distinct lack of pride. I reared you for better."

I smoothed my skirts under nervous fingers. "I am not hunting Brisbane. He asked Portia to come and help h...

Customer Reviews

LOVED the book HATED the cover

I don't know what the folks at MIRA were thinking putting together the new cover art for Deanna Raybourn's new book Silent On The Moor?!

I thought the cover was awful and if I hadn't read the first two books in this series I NEVER would have picked them up after seeing the cover of the third book. The pose is all wrong, the clothes are all wrong, and the man's hand is completely wrong. That dress is about a hundred years wrong, this story is set in 1888, that dress looks like it was made in 1988.

I get that the publishers might be trying to attract a larger audience by making this book appear to be a Harlequin Romance type of novel but I think it's an insult to the readers who are already fans of Deanna Raybourn's.

Please, MIRA, go back to the beautiful covers that the first two had. I would never be embarrassed to be seen in public with either of those books in my hand.

As for the story, I loved it, it's the kind of book that I wish I could savor but I never can, it's so enjoyable to read that I don't want to put it down, I didn't and sadly I was done in three days.

I love these characters and their complicated relationship. I love Julia's zest for life, her indomitable spirit and her unconventional values. Lady Julie and Nicholas Brisbane remind me of Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester and their relationship. I enjoyed the tension and frustration between them as well as the tenderness and vulnerability.

I thought the mystery was interesting and disturbing, the characters were as charming as ever and the wit was enjoyable. If Ms Raybourn can make them all this good I will be happy to buy every last book she writes.

Another winner for Raybourn!
Perusing the shelves at my local bookstore, I had to pinch myself when I stumbled upon Ms. Raybourn's third offering in the Lady Julia Grey series almost a month before the official release! No complaints here! Ms. Raybourn's writing is witty as ever, and the stories just get better and better.

In this tale, Lady Julia Grey travels through the Yorkshire moors to Grimsgrave, an estate newly purchased by private inquiry agent Nicholas Brisbane. After a chilling welcome by the host and residents of the manor, Lady Julia begins to unravel the dark secrets of an ancient family, while Brisbane's gypsy roots appear to be tangled in the mix. But when the Grimswater bell tolls and Brisbane's life is threatened, what other secrets will Lady Julia discover? This third installment in the Lady Julia Grey series packs a powerful punch, with suspense and intrigue, insight into Brisbane's mysterious past, more antics from Grim, the sugared-plum loving raven, and an ending sure to please fans of the series!

Ms. Raybourn's attention to Victorian detail appears flawless and I truly felt whisked away to another world, in another time. I thoroughly enjoyed this book and highly recommend it as I eagerly await the fourth installment that Ms. Raybourn assures is in the works!

A side note: This is not at all a bodice-ripping romance, but truly an excellent Victorian mystery. Personally, I prefer the original book covers for Silent in the Grave and Silent in the Sanctuary because they were more... what's the word? ... mysterious.

Raybourn at her best yet again
I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and felt that it was every bit as good as the first two in the series. I love Raybourn's writing style. Her grasp of Victorian historical details and Victorian language make this book seem very authentically Victorian. The book is full of intertextuality and references to the writings of the Brontes, which is fun for any Victorian scholar or fan of Victorian literature. The Shakespearean epigraphs throughout were cleverly chosen and work well to unite the book thematically. I actually felt that this book is much more literary than the first two. The elements of mystery and romance are as strong as in the first two books as well, and it is good to see a resolution of the romantic tension finally. Raybourn's blog indicates that this is not the final installment of Julia Grey, and I look forward to reading the next one!