Although there were no astonishing twists of fate that you might see in a Sarah Waters novel, Gerri Brightwell's The Dark Lantern was a nice slippery Victorian tale full of lies and deceit. I'm not sure why I am so drawn to dark and sinister Victorian settings, but I can read about the doings of the upstairs and downstairs residents of great manor houses over and over again. The Dark Lantern is nicely done, oozing just enough atmosphere to give you the creepy crawlies with every mention of beetles scuttling across the kitchen floor. It has the added bonus of verging on being a rather unusual mystery as well.
Jane Wilbred has managed to find a situation in London after being raised in the country. Orphaned at a young age she is trained to go into service. What else is there for an orphan to do anyway? Unfortunately for Jane she has the added moral stain of having a murderess for a mother and is reminded of it at every turn by the vicar's wife who's in charge of the orphanage. When she arrives at 32 Cursitor Road, one of her first actions is to rewrite her letter of character omitting any reference to her notorious background. Jane's deception is only the first that will occur behind the doors of this distinguished house. No one is who they appear to be. Everyone is hiding secrets, and if they don't have any, they're blackmailing those who do.
Elderly Mrs. Bentley lies dying. Her son Robert and his wife Mina have returned from Paris, not only to be with his mother but to pursue his work in the burgeoning study of anthropometry. The science of identifying criminals by their body measurements is already well-established in France, and Robert hopes to gain a foothold in England and convince those in charge of the prisons this is the method to use rather than that of fingerprinting. While Robert is happy to return home, Mina has secrets stretching far back into her childhood that she's fearful will be brought to light and ruin her. While Robert works, Mina is left to put in order an unruly household of servants who've gone lax with the illness of Mrs. Bentley.
When Robert's elder brother, Henry, drowns on his return home from India, it will cause a bit of an uproar, but nothing compared to the revelation that Henry was returning with a wife. Fears that the bereaved young widow will lay claims to the family home and money will provoke Mina to have Jane spy on her. Nothing is known about Victoria Bentley, and any proof of identity and legal marriage are now at the bottom of the sea. Mina believes the widow is not who she claims to be, and Jane will be stuck in the middle--trying to hide her own secrets, yet urged to find out what Victoria Bentley is hiding and what her real intentions are.
Gerri Brightwell does a remarkable job creating an atmosphere of subterfuge. Nearly all the characters are out to save their skins or are willing to flay others for their own means. What I found most impressive (and entertaining) was the depiction of the love/hate relationship between the upstairs masters and the downstairs servants. They're both dependent on each other. There aren't many secrets in a house where a servant even knows what's at the bottom of the mistress's chamber pot (to put it bluntly). And the servant walks a fine line between having nothing but a roof over her head and a meager afternoon off a week and being thrust out on the street with nothing at all by an unhappy employer. It must have been a completely claustrophobic atmosphere. Brightwell captures this tenuous (and unhappy) relationship so well.
"Jane stares down into her plate. At times it's hard to breathe in this house, let alone eat. This is what you sell when you go into service, she thinks, freedoms that the family upstairs can't imagine being without. To talk when you choose to, to go out when you like, to decide what you will eat, to sit down with a book and spend a whole afternoon reading simply because you want to. A servant is not supposed to mind every minute of her day being laid out for her--this is what she will do at six in the morning, this is where she will be at half past nine, this is what she will eat for her supper, this is how she will spend the time before bed. Do ladies think their servants don't notice how they spend their time? Or that the very things servants are warned away from--reading novels, eating rich foods, making themselves beautiful so the men notice them--are the very occupations of their lives?"
I was eager to read this when I heard about it, and had to wait what felt like an insufferable amount of time for my library to process it (I'm too impatient when it comes to books, I know), but it was well worth the wait! Although I didn't know about it last fall, this book would have been a welcome addition to this list. I've not forgotten about it, by the way. It is in the back of my mind and I still want to read at least a few of those books this year.