Lady Byron and her Daughters

I wanted to enjoy Lady Byron and her Daughters, and the first third of the book was compelling. Annabella Milbank was a mathematician and a poet in her own right when she met Lord Byron through Caroline Lamb, her cousin by marriage. Their bizarre courtship, and his obviously close relationship with his half sister, set against the backdrop of the Regency aristocracy played like an uncensored Jane Austen novel. Once the couple married, though, the act of watching a psychologically abusive marriage dissolve became more horrible than interesting. Julia Markus's biography wandered a bit through its last half, touching here on Ada Lovelace's life and mathematical work, there on Annabella's involvement in progressive social movements (including the abolition of slavery), and lightly on Melora Leigh's tragic life.

A Deadly Brew

I've compared Susanna Gregory's Matthew Bartholomew mysteries to a workplace comedy, and the humor stars coming through in the fourth installment, A Deadly Brew, in part through the introduction of Ralph de Langelee. The future college head makes his first appearance as a suspiciously unlearned lecturer and Matt and Brother Michael are not surprised when he turns out to be a spy. Neither are they surprised to find out that the wine which is poisoning members of both town and gown was smuggled in. Starting with two deaths connected to the surprise election of the new University Chancellor and including an escape (accompanied by an elderly nun and a merchant's niece) through the fens from a convent, A Deadly Brew is a satisfying mystery.