This is a curl-up-with-a-warm-blanket kind of book, except it has considerably more tension than that description suggests. Mary Whitcombe is a Victorian orphan with a life that starts hard and gets harder, but there’s something irresistible about following her through it.
The convent scenes have a quiet beauty — the contrast between Mary’s wealthy upbringing and her new austere life is handled with real warmth. The gardener she falls for is the kind of love interest who makes you hope, even when you know the Victorian novel’s general attitude toward hope.
What Nifora does best is keep Mary’s humanity intact through everything. You never feel sorry for her so much as you feel for her. There’s a meaningful difference, and this book knows it.
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