The author, Elizabeth Gill, attended Emma Willard School in Troy, New York, as an exchange student on the English-Speaking Union, and so was a member of my class. We recently reconnected via Facebook and I discovered that she is an author with a substantial backlist. I bought her newest title, but decided to start with an earlier work in the Weardale Saga: hence this review of "The Guardian Angel."
Historical romance is not ordinarily my cup of tea--I am more of a nonfiction reader--but this was charming. The protagonist, Miss Alice Lee, confectioner extraordinaire, is the center of gravity around whose sweet shop the village of Stanhope appears to revolve. A good Methodist, she responds to her minister's prodding of the congregation to reach our and write to the young "murderer," Zebediah Bailey, who was eight or nine years into a ten year sentence for what sounds more like manslaughter. She also sends the lad sweets. So the novel begins as a sort of epistolary work.
Eventually, weathering the disapproval of many of the townsfolk (after all the time frame is mid-19th century), Miss Lee creates an ad-hoc family in the cramped living quarters behind the shop: herself sharing a room with the orphan girl Susan Wilson, whose kindly guardian dies and Zeb Bailey, eventually sharing a room with his estranged father Mr. Bailey. Zeb gets a job at the local quarry where he meets Daniel Wearmouth; Dan's father Josiah, died in the same prison Zeb was in and Zeb had cared for him in a way in the end. The young deacon, Charles Westbrooke, estranged scion of a landed family in the upper dales, and Arabella Almond, beautiful daughter of the quarry owners, complicate things between Dan and Susan. Other characters, townspeople, quarrymen, deceased parents, wander in and out of the story.
The author lives near Durham and her knowledge of the area and deep affection for its landscape and history are evident. She describes the ways that homes are tucked into hillsides to withstand fierce winds and how a water seeps through the front door in a storm, wetting the rugs of a him located in a bottom not far from the river. Small cottages are contrasted to the large homes of the wealthy and the social elites. The changes wrought by the Industrial Revolution are woven into the story in myriad subtle ways.
Liz has a fine style which suffers, in my opinion, from a tendency to provide a few too many small details, a too complete telling of the thoughts cycling though an individual's mind. Most of that enriches the narrative and adds both human and pathos; some of it bogs the action down.
I am, however, looking forward to The Quarryman's Wife," which sits on the shelf waiting for me.