Rating: ★★★★★
Genre: Cosy Mystery
Available On: Amazon
I was surprised by the rapid speed I downloaded Death at the Dance on audible. The final beats of the first book in the series, A Very English Murder, were still echoing through my headphones. It wasn’t even done playing book one before I started downloading book two, and so it’s been with every further book in the series I’ve read. Because, you see, I am now wholly addicted to the quirky, energetic, and endlessly optimistic Lady Eleanor Swift.
She has entirely bewitched me. These books are so addictive.
And I say this is surprising because I honestly had mixed feelings about the first book. While there were many things I loved, there were almost as many I found infuriating.
In this mystery series, Verity Bright (a husband and wife duo, which I have to say given the fabulous nature of Ilona Andrews’ novels seems to be a winning combo!), has really hit upon a winning formula. The series waltzes its way into the hearts of readers with its roaring twenties charm and delightful mysteries, and Death at the Dance really solidified for me just how much I love the series. I am now many books into this (currently 19 book) series, and book two remains a firm favourite. It hasn’t quite retained its spot as the favourite, but it’s still very high up the list.
I’m going to have to rank them fully when I’m finished. But for now, suffice to say the perfect blend of humour, historical intrigue, captivating storytelling, wholesome romance, and a genuinely puzzling whodunit mystery make this book stand out.
Why Book Two Is Such An Improvement
Verity Bright excels at weaving humour and historical details into a seamless narrative, creating a world that’s both enchanting and authentic. The dialogue sparkles with wit, and the descriptions of the costumes and settings are so vivid, you’ll feel as though you’ve stepped back in time.
Death at the Dance, is both an improvement on its predecessor and a classic example of the genre’s charm. Is it perfect? Absolutely not. Did I inhale it in one sitting (well, playing!) with a ridiculous grin on my face and an overwhelming desire for tea, cake, and possibly a jewel heist of my own?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Where A Very English Murder laid the groundwork, Death at the Dance builds upon it with flair, diving straight into the glittering chaos of a 1920s masked ball, where Lady Eleanor’s latest flirtation—Lancelot—is discovered quite literally red-handed. Blood, candlestick, open safe—the works. Naturally, he’s promptly arrested for murder. Naturally, Eleanor believes he’s innocent. And naturally, she sets out to prove it.
Honestly this book skirts the edge of satire at times by leaning so hard into the cosy romance tropes we all know and love. The series as a whole is guilty of this, but the earlier books do it with gusto, Death at the Dance going so far as to have the murder victim loudly proclaiming (and thus foreshadowing) his own demise mere pages before succumbing.
I have to point out the glee with which I relished the initial chapter of this one, in that it was very apparent who victim number one was going to be (as you read these you rapidly realise there are always two murders followed by a life-in-peril situation that solidifies each of the three acts). This wasn’t because it was poorly written or predictable, quite the contrary.
This was such a tongue-in-cheek, completely unexpected, and perfectly executed dose of foreshadowing I was almost left feeling the author had actually broken the fourth wall so the narrator might turn to the camera and say, “See him, there, he’s about to expire.”
Genuinely, there were two lines that did this and both had me laughing out loud when they happened then air punching when the person I knew was going to die actually bit the proverbial dust. It was one of those deeply satisfying moments you find hilariously funny, even though it’s also seriously cringeworthy and you wonder what possessed the writer to be so brazen about it. Like that episode of Sex and the City when Kristen Johnston obnoxiously proclaimed she’s “so bored I could die” and promptly fell out of a penthouse window.
It’s a gleefully ridiculous novel in the best possible way!
Death at the Dance: Plot Summary
Upon attending a costume ball, Lady Eleanor Swift finds herself embroiled in another perplexing murder when a guest is found dead, and her beau, the ever-charming Lancelot, is implicated. With her loyal bulldog Gladstone at her side, Eleanor dives into a whirlwind of high-society hijinks, determined to clear the name of the man she’s been building the beginnings of a romance with.
The mystery escalates quickly when Eleanor discovers Lance standing over the body of Colonel Puddifoot, with a silver candlestick in hand by an open and emptied safe. As the police arrest Lance, accusing him of murder and a staged robbery, Eleanor is thrown into a deeper puzzle. The backdrop of the grand costume ball, hosted at the lavish manor of Lance’s parents, sets a dramatic scene for the unfolding events.
With Clifford, her faithful butler, and Gladstone, Eleanor starts an undercover investigation among Lance’s friends, a group of Bright Young Things known for their affluent, carefree lifestyles and penchant for mischief. The plot thickens as members of this circle begin to face dangerous incidents, suggesting a serial connection to the night’s events. As the investigation deepens, Eleanor and her companions realise the murder is connected to a series of high society jewel heists.
Determined to clear Lance’s name, Eleanor navigates through a maze of deceit and red herrings. Her inquiries lead her to question the loyalty and motives of those closest to Lance, including whether he might be involved in his parents’ schemes. The investigation reveals not just the complexities of high society but also tests the bonds of Eleanor’s new romance and friendships, while pitting her against Detective Chief Inspector Selden, the arresting officer and Eleanor’s verbal sparring partner throughout.
Death at the Dance weaves together an intricate tapestry of betrayal, love, and mystery, keeping the readers engaged with its 1920s setting and Eleanor’s sharp wit and resourceful nature. As Eleanor pieces together the clues, the story builds to a climax that challenges her assumptions about love, loyalty, and justice.
The Case of the Bright Young Things
The plot is essentially a madcap romp through the world of the “Bright Young Things”: a crowd of aristocratic ne’er-do-wells who drink too much, party too hard, and seem to know more than they’re letting on. Eleanor infiltrates the gang with all the subtlety of a rhinoceros in a tea shop, and while I occasionally wanted to throttle her for spending more time drinking champagne than actually investigating, and the endless repetitive nature of her investigative style when it did happen,I can’t deny I had a fabulous time watching her do it.
The cast of characters is vibrantly drawn, each adding their own flair to the tale. From the dashing Lancelot, whose antics bring a light-heartedness to the investigation despite his dire situation, to the various suspects who keep you guessing at every turn, the characters are what truly bring this story to life.
Lance’s parents are both very endearing and the budding friendship between Eleanor (a clueless woman suddenly thrust into the role of Lady of the Manor with no clue how to behave) and the far older pair of very well experienced nobles, is touching. There are so many side characters in the novel that are all vividly drawn regardless of how long they appear, from Polly the maid to the colourful cohort of Lance’s friends.
And then there’s Clifford—oh, Clifford. The butler, the backbone, the true beating heart of the series. His dry wit and unwavering loyalty continue to be highlights, and the dynamic between him and Eleanor is pitch-perfect. Wodehouse would approve.
High Society Shenanigans
If the first book was a pleasant jaunt around the village, this one is a moonlit gallop through the shallows of high society, where no one is quite as clever or charming as they think they are, and everyone is hiding something. The plot is twisty enough to keep you guessing, and while I did figure out some of the puzzle pieces ahead of time, the final resolution was still satisfying. There are moments of genuine peril, a suspiciously poetic miner’s son, a smattering of social commentary, and enough red herrings to stock a fishmonger.
The dialogue sparkles, the fashion is fabulous, and while Eleanor still insists on narrating her every discovery (often more than once), this time the pace and stakes are high enough that I didn’t mind quite so much. It helps that the repetition often comes with a side of snark from Clifford.
In other words, the joyous nature of the whole affair is so gleeful it compensates for the irritations and slightly clunky delivery.
Romantic Nonsense and Delightful Dogs
Lancelot is… fine. Still more caricature than character, in my opinion, and I’m honestly relieved he spent most of the book in jail. He’s one of those characters that, when the FMC proclaims her love for him you’re left wondering, “But why? I mean, he’s pretty but there’s nothing else to him!”
DCI Seldon, on the other hand, is starting to show glimmers of emotional depth beneath the gruff exterior. The tension between him and Eleanor is less “will they/won’t they” and more “will he ever admit he actually likes her,” but I’m here for the slow burn.
Even if he is a pig-headed grump 80% of the time.
Therein, however, lies the genius (in my opinion) of this setup. In the first book, Eleanor is presented with two men she off-handedly notices are attractive. One is presented as the obvious choice: heir to a title, same social station as Eleanor, but in all other respects her absolute antithesis. The other isn’t really presented as an option from a romantic perspective at all, and yet the contrast between him and the guy our heroine is besotted with actually makes us want her to make a different choice.
The dynamic between Eleanor and Lancelot is the core to this novel; it’s the reason she’s involved in another murder mystery at all (having witnessed the murder in book one, she’s now dedicated to proving her beau’s innocence in book two).
That she has coincidentally been in the immediate vicinity of two murders within a very short space of time stretches credulity, but at least we have a solid motivation for her insistence of solving the case.
And then there’s Gladstone, the ever-snoring, sausage-stealing bulldog who continues to be a scene-stealing delight. I adore him. If you’ve read Bane you’re aware I have a penchant for a scene-stealing canine sidekick, so I really do love this (not so) little guy. My only complaint is that he’s supposed to be an English bulldog, and for reasons that escape me all the series covers portray him as a Frenchie.
This aggravates me far more than is reasonable!
Escapism at Its Best
I will not say the novel is perfect. There are still elements of the things I found infuriating about the first book, namely the repetitive nature of how Eleanor goes about investigating, discussing what she finds, recording it in a notebook, and then reviewing everything. It is nowhere near as bad in this book as it was in the first, and that’s doubtless why I enjoyed it so much more, but it’s very much still there.
I was several more books in before it occurred to me that this might be due to hearing them, and the fact narrators read out loud everything on the page, even if it’s not part of the prose. I’ve still not got my hands on paperback versions so I can’t be sure, but I suspect if you were reading a physical copy, you’d skip quite a bit of this depending on how they formatted it.
Despite its flaws—and yes, there are many, from questionable historical language to slightly overdone upper-class accents—Death at the Dance delivers exactly what I wanted: pure escapism with heart. The pacing is tighter, the stakes are higher, and the atmosphere is positively fizzy with 1920s charm.
I listened to most of this while walking, cleaning, and pretending I didn’t have work to do—and I regret nothing. If you love strong heroines with questionable decision-making skills, dry-humoured butlers, and small-town mysteries with big personalities, then this series continues to deliver in spades.
The next book was downloaded before this one had even finished playing.
Clifford, take the wheel.
