This had such promise, and ended up to be quite disappointing.
I really enjoyed the first third: Ivy Radcliffe, a young woman left alone by the war and struggling to get by in London, inherits an old family manor in Yorkshire. The caveat is that she must move there immediately, and live the rest of her life in Radcliffe Hall. No problem, the penniless and lonely Ivy thinks.
Upon her arrival, the whole set-up is delightfully intriguing. Tight-lipped staff, mysterious ghost stories abound, locked doors in dark corridors, and a moody-but-knightly handsome gardener. Throw in a library that remains locked and shrouded in dusty danger/promise, and we’ve got a gothic dream.
Unfortunately, the plot, which hinges on Ivy’s supposed sharp research skills as the new Lady of the House, quickly falls to shreds, simply because Ivy is maddeningly clueless. She makes ridiculous, nonsensical bad choice after bad choice. She doesn’t demand answers, but instead seems content to make the odd impassioned query, only to stop when told to. She begins to lose her memories, but makes no real attempt to figure any of it out. The clear villain arrives early on, and Ivy agrees to marry him without spending more than a few days with him.
In Ivy’s world, it’s red flags galore, but she stubbornly refuses to see any of them.
Meanwhile, the Radcliffe Manor staff threatens gloom and doom but won’t give her the truth. They seem concerned, but don’t give Ivy an inch, which, on top of Ivy’s own mystifying denial, makes for an exceptionally frustrating reading experience.
Somehow, I was hoping for it to all come together in a surprising ending, because despite Ivy not cluing in, the reader can certainly guess. Instead, the “secrets” turn out to be cliches, and not done in a satisfying way. It felt like an obvious, grand rush at the end.
Argh argh argh. I wanted to love this so much.