Most people probably haven’t heard of Mary Wollstonecraft, although they might know her daughter Mary, author of the original Frankenstein. The elder Mary was an early feminist, famous for writing A Vindication of the Rights of Woman and infamous for a tumultuous lifestyle that included several affairs, accusations of corrupting a child in her care, a daughter born out of wedlock and a failed suicide attempt.

As I said in a review of another historical mystery this month, Barbara Hamilton's The Ninth Daughter, I think less famous people like Mary make the best real life historical figure detectives. Because they’re not so well known, the character on the page isn’t constantly battling strong preconceived notions in the readers’ heads. Ironically the less you know about them as people, the easier it is to believe in them as people in the story.

Mary here is in her late 20s and on the cusp of fame, pre-Vindication but with a book on the education of women just published. Financial difficulties put her on a boat to Ireland to fill a position she’s not wholly qualified for as governess.  The appreciation for good-looking members of the opposite sex and enjoyment of their company that were behind so many problems in her real life come into play here as chatting with a handsome young sailor gets Mary pressed into service to deliver a message when she arrives. While the recipient’s even more impressive looks draw her into involvement with the Irish resistance against the occupying English.

In between is a veritable whirlwind circus of seductions, pregnancies, children running wild, currents and subcurrents and sub-subcurrents in relations amongst the house’s inhabitants, and, of course, murder. The question isn’t finding out who’s guilty—everyone seems to be guilty of something—it’s finding out which particular crimes or sins each person is responsible for.  Mary herself is a memorably character—passionate, headstrong, intelligent, emotional, feisty, impulsive... a changeable whirl of interests, concerns and passions, and as tumultuous herself as the life she ultimately lived and the household she now finds herself in. This is no shy, drab, retiring little dab of a governess, although what she goes through makes it easy to see how many women would let life beat them down into that. The entire book is filled with memorable characters. There's a solid sense of place and plot to spare, but characterization is the author's real strength. There's a large and varied cast of characters you believe in, care about and will remember after you finish the last page and close the cover.

Find a comfortable chair and a tall drink and make yourself comfortable for an extended stay because this may not be a long book but it is one to immerse yourself in, with nary a still moment inside the pages to provide a break.