The Persephone Code
England, 1812. Anthony Pennington, warden of the Hellfire Club, guardian of its secrets, is stabbed to death deep within the Buckinghamshire caves where privileged affiliates relish drunken debauchery. Among the late Anthony’s chattels is a letter to his half-sister Dora revealing the encoded location of the Club members’ private confessions, which they’re obliged to provide as ‘insurance’ against any future betrayal. The local reverend, aware of this letter, contacts his old friend Dr Jacob Sandys, ex-field doctor, now retired in the Lake District, urgently beseeching him to notify Anthony’s death to jobbing actress Dora, currently working in nearby Kendal. They meet and are soon attacked, begging the questions: who else knows, and how? The Illuminati are favourites because possessing the intimate indiscretions of society’s high and mighty could aid their dastardly aim of toppling the government. The pair journey south to investigate, encountering a succession of exciting scrapes, armed only with Jacob’s military experience and Dora’s all-woman capable sassiness to outwit their adversaries. As the trail unfolds, they become enamoured, adding another level to their tribulations.
Told with zip and humour, this story kicks off at a gallop and the chase is on as, mostly one step ahead, our quick-witted duo hunt for the damning evidence. Regency details feature throughout, from coaching inns to carriage interiors, settings posh and poor, political trends, elegant clothing and everyday food, with horses galore. The letter’s decoding is cunningly managed, and lust evidently isn’t only for the Hellfire folks. Interesting, informative, most enjoyable.
