Rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Genre: Cosy Mystery

Available on: Amazon & Audible

Lady Eleanor Swift has now officially entered her Jessica Fletcher era…I’ve lost count of the bodies stacking up around this woman. And yet, I cannot get enough. Book six in Verity Bright’s delightfully bonkers and thoroughly charming series, Murder at the Fair, delivers another pitch-perfect instalment of village chaos, vintage charm, and murder disguised as mishap.

Murder at the Fair Plot Summary

It’s May Day in the idyllic village of Little Buckford, and Lady Eleanor Swift is doing her best to embrace her duties as the local Lady of the Manor. Tasked with presiding over the annual fair, which includes judging a raft race and handing out prizes, she’s (rather foolishly) hoping for a pleasant afternoon of village frivolity. 

Predictably, things rapidly go awry as one of the rafts drifts across the finish line empty. Being the genre savvy lady she is, Eleanor wastes no time in rallying everyone into a search party, convinced something horrible has happened. And then discovers something horrible has happened.

The missing participant is Solemn Jon, the village’s beloved undertaker (who has appeared in previous books). When his body is discovered among the reeds, the death is initially ruled a tragic accident. But an anonymous and unusually spiteful obituary in the County Herald suggests otherwise. Naturally the police are uninterested, and Detective Chief Inspector Hugh Seldon firmly cautions Ellie to stay out of it, so she immediately sets about investigating to uncover the truth.

With the help of her dry-witted butler, Clifford, and the ever-hungry bulldog Gladstone (who spends most of the spring cleaning process locked in battle with the vacuum cleaner), Eleanor begins her investigation. As she digs deeper into Solemn Jon’s past, secrets begin to surface. Old rivalries, whispered scandals, and several people who had more than enough reason to wish him ill.

When a second villager dies in another ‘accident’, followed by a second scathing obituary, Eleanor becomes convinced a killer is using the local paper to settle scores. The trail leads her from village gossip to aristocratic blackmail, and eventually to a dusty photograph that exposes a long-buried secret.

But just as she’s closing in on the truth, Eleanor finds herself the subject of the next obituary. With time running out and danger closer than ever, she must race to catch the killer before her next village appearance is at her own funeral.

So, How Did This One Hold Up?

Wonderfully, actually. Murder at the Fair delivers everything I’ve come to expect from a Lady Eleanor Swift mystery—witty banter, charming village mayhem, and at least one death wrapped in bunting—and then adds just enough novelty to keep things feeling fresh.

The mystery itself is one of the more satisfying in the series so far, with a well-layered plot that weaves together local politics, long-held grudges, and a blackmail scandal that genuinely surprised me. The stakes feel more personal this time, the pacing brisk without being rushed, and for once, Eleanor’s habit of documenting every thought in that infernal notebook didn’t make me want to hurl it into the duck pond. (Progress!)

As always, the dynamic between Eleanor and Clifford shines. Their verbal sparring remains a highlight, and his continued ability to be five steps ahead of everyone—including the actual police—is as amusing as ever. The spring cleaning subplot involving a traumatised maid and a vacuum cleaner that seems more villain than appliance is pure gold. Gladstone, of course, remains an icon. His ongoing war with modern technology, refusal to participate in anything that doesn’t involve food, and complete lack of shame make him the real hero of the series. If that dog ever gets a POV chapter, I’ll be first in line.

The usual trope of “the police are either useless or stubbornly resistant to common sense” is still present, but softened. Seldon, while still gruff and reluctant to accept Eleanor’s theories, seems less outright dismissive than in earlier books. Their scenes together carry a bit more weight here—he’s clearly worried for her, even as he refuses to say so—and the tension between them is no longer just professional. It’s subtle, but there’s a shift. He’s letting her in, even if he’s doing it with all the emotional openness of a brick wall.

In short: this was one of the strongest entries so far. Funny, tightly plotted, and filled with all the heart and eccentricity that makes this series so addictive.

The Clifford Effect

Clifford remains the gold standard in relentlessly British butlery: dry as a bone, dignified to a fault, and inexplicably spry for a man who really ought to be napping more often. He’s less scene-stealing in this one (that honour goes squarely to Gladstone), but his presence is as essential as ever. Whether he’s managing household politics, subtly redirecting Eleanor’s more impulsive schemes, or just existing with that uniquely exasperated fondness only he can pull off, Clifford continues to anchor the chaos with quiet competence. He may no longer be my top suspect for secretly running MI6, but only because I now suspect he trained whoever does.

Romance Watch

Hugh Seldon continues his reign as the grumpy yet swoonworthy long-suffering love interest, but this time he’s actually starting to earn it. In Murder at the Fair, we finally get a deeper glimpse into Seldon the man, not just Seldon the sceptical inspector. And what we find is surprisingly sweet.

While he still defaults to caution and authority, there’s a noticeable shift in how he handles Eleanor’s involvement. He’s no longer quite so mired in the belief that she’s meddling for the sake of it. Instead, he’s beginning to accept, albeit begrudgingly, that Eleanor has a knack for sniffing out the truth. Trying to stop her isn’t just futile, it’s unnecessary. His concern now is less about controlling her actions and more about protecting her from the fallout. Which, frankly, is quite the romantic pivot.

He’s not a ‘partner in crime’ yet, since Clifford holds that title with unshakable precision, but he’s edging closer to something like a romantic equal. There’s a moment late in the book when Eleanor’s in danger and Seldon’s panic slips through his usually well-guarded exterior, and I may or may not have made an embarrassingly emotional noise. It’s understated, very British, and utterly satisfying.

For the first time in the series, Seldon feels like more than just the dour obstacle standing between Eleanor and the truth. He’s becoming a proper character in his own right and, dare I say it, a worthy love interest.

Final Thoughts

Murder at the Fair isn’t my favourite of the series (that honour still firmly belongs to Death at the Dance), but it’s definitely one of the strongest so far. It delivers everything I love about this series: a well-crafted mystery, sparkling dialogue, that perfectly balanced blend of humour and heart, and a cast of characters who feel like old friends.

What really set this one apart, though, was the unexpected emotional weight of Solemn Jon’s death. He wasn’t just a disposable plot device or one-scene wonder. We’d met him before, and that sense of continuity gave his loss a surprising resonance. It’s the first time I’ve felt genuinely anxious about the fate of the wider cast. If long-standing side characters aren’t safe, then who is?

This one’s a reminder that even in the most comforting of cosy mysteries, the stakes can still feel real. Murder and maypole dancing. Grief and village gossip. Intrigue, infatuation, and a bulldog who refuses to obey vacuum cleaners. Honestly, what more could you want?