What is a poor (extremely poor) young girl to do when she is suddenly orphaned in Cornwall? For Red, the fiercely clever protagonist of Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s twisty historical tale The Square of Sevens, the only option is to use what she can learn about her mysterious heritage to fight her way to a life-changing inheritance. Red must do battle with vicious aristocrats, greedy folk of all stripes, and eminently bribable magistrates armed only with her wits. Shepherd-Robinson makes nothing easy for her heroine.
Red could hardly have started out in a worse position in life. The only father she’s ever known lies dying in a Cornish tavern that they can’t pay for. Red isn’t even ten years old when her rapidly fading parent wrangles a deal from a passing scholar to take Red in; the only other option is the orphanage and, then, the poorhouse. Robert Antrobus reluctantly takes Red home with him to Bath. Antrobus is one of the few genuinely honest people in Red’s life and, until his own shocking death when Red is in her teens, raises her up the best he knows. That’s when the action really kicks off, as this surprising death and Red’s discoveries about the titled lady who might be her mother lead the young fortune-teller to develop her own plan for her future. Unfortunately, this means going up against the very wealthy, very litigious, and possibly very murderous De Lacey family—a family that might actually be her true relatives. Meanwhile, Lazarus Darke, a lawyer with a long history of the De Laceys, dogs Red’s footsteps while guarding the family secrets.
Part of the fun of reading The Square of Sevens is trying to stay ahead of Red as she untangles the twisted history that led to her being orphaned and friendless. Her first clues lie in a portmanteau carried by her first father, a man she learns is named John Jory Jago. In the trunk, Red finds a codicil to a will that leaves the fortune of one Nicholas De Lacey to his first “lawfully begotten” grandchild. She also finds a miniature portrait of a beautiful woman in a locket that she believes is her mother. Putting two and two together—plus whatever hints of gossip she can tease out of anyone who might know of Jago or the De Laceys—adds up to the possibility that lost Red might be the true heir to the De Lacey fortune, made in the wake of the catastrophic South Sea Bubble of 1720. Just when we (and Red) think we’ve figured things out, there’s another twist.
I can’t say enough good things about the incredible, engrossing plotting of The Square of Sevens—and I’m going to stop saying things about this novel, full stop, because I don’t want to ruin anything for future readers. Instead, I’ll conclude by saying that readers who love historical fiction that runs the gamut of society and/or readers who want spiderweb-type escapades will adore The Square of Sevens. Seriously, this is the kind of book that, as soon as you finish it, you will want to go back to the beginning and reread to watch it all unfold again. I also recommend reading the author’s note at the end to see how much actual history Shepherd-Robinson embedded in the book like nerdy easter eggs.
I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via Edelweiss, for review consideration.
It seems great! My local library has a copy of Shepherd Robinson’s Daughters of night, have you read it?