The Strawberry House is one of those novels that sweeps you up from the very first page. Rachel Burton blends dual timelines with such grace that moving between 1938 and 1952 feels effortless, each era enriching the other as the truth slowly comes into focus.
The 1938 storyline is especially captivating. Camilla, caught between duty and desire, is a wonderfully drawn heroine—thoughtful, restless, and quietly yearning for a life beyond the expectations placed upon her. The arrival of Henry and the group of strangers at Montagu Manor brings a simmering tension to the long, hot summer, and Burton captures that sense of possibility and danger with real elegance. You can feel the heat, the longing, and the subtle shifts that lead to a tragedy no one sees coming.
In 1952, Henry’s return to the manor is steeped in melancholy and unresolved emotion. The resurfacing of the portrait he believed destroyed is such a powerful catalyst, pulling him back into memories he’s tried to bury. His chapters are tender, reflective, and full of the ache of a love that never truly faded.
Burton excels at atmosphere—Oxford’s manor houses, the artistic world of the 1930s, the post‑war quiet of the 1950s—and she threads it all with secrets that unravel at just the right pace. The emotional payoff is both heartbreaking and deeply satisfying.
A sweeping, evocative novel about love, art, and the shadows cast by the past. Fans of Kate Morton and Lucinda Riley will feel right at home.
With thanks to Rachel Burton, the publisher and netgalley for the ARC