If last week was the week of culinary cozy, then this week is focused on epistolary content. As a long-time fan of advice columns, I was excited to learn about Murder in PostScript, the story of a Victorian agony aunt who stumbles upon a murdered correspondent. When our intrepid heroine – a countess, no less – digs deeper, she finds that there’s some scandal at play in the ton – and it might be worth killing over.

It’s a promising premise – advice columns meet mystery with a dash of historically swoon-worthy romance. I was able to get a preview of the book (thanks to NetGalley and Berkley for the gift copy!). And after spending a cozy Sunday in, I have some thoughts on what makes Murder in PostScript special, and who’d most enjoy the read.

Meet Lady Agony

If the premise of Murder in PostScript gave you Bridgerton flashbacks, you’re not wrong. In many ways, Amelia Amesbury’s secret identity as Lady Agony resembles a similar plot-line in the popular Regency romance series. Both stories feature a member of the ton writing bluntly and directly about elite affairs in a public (and therefore scandalous) forum. And both stories emphasize the need for the columnist to keep her identity secret, ofr reasons of propriety and personal security.

But where Lady Whistledown reports salacious stories from the most elite gatherings, Amelia offers some actually reasonable advice to those navigating the ton. Some of this advice is perhaps a bit too pro to-feminist to be believable, but as a modern reader I can’t complain too much at another “WTF even is a corset” joke. For the most part, the advice and the column feel sound – enough that you can root for Amelia’s anonymity to persist.

That’s important, because unlike in Bridgerton, we know that Amelia is Lady Agony from the start. Not only that – as she investigates the murder, maintaining her anonymity becomes a reasonable constraint on her activities. (Contrast this to Lady Whistledown, whose identity is a constant source of exciting speculation, but has little bearing on the plot for most of the series.) If Amelia chooses to do something (or not) to preserve the Lady Agony identity, it’s important that we’re just as bought in as she is. Luckily, it’s clear that Lady Agony is a net good for the world – and that it would be a shame for Amelia’s identity to disrupt her small circle of friends and family.

A family affair

Whenever I read a cozy mystery, I find myself assessing the community that surrounds the protagonist. Are they kind? Supportive? Fun? Engaging? Amelia Amesbury has a small but mighty squad, comprising her late husband’s family, her editor (and close friend), and a few friends from the City. Add a gallant love interest, and you’ve got the classic cozy mystery mix, rewound for the Victorian era.

I’ve been reading a lot of cozies that feature someone moving away and starting fresh. It was nice to see a story where the protagonists sticks with the family around her – and they support her back. Amelia’s relationship with her husband’s aunt Tabitha was particularly fun to read, as the two women learn to appreciate each other more over the course of events. It’s nice to see a heroine maturing and growing in her own capacity for support.

And then there’s Winifred, Amelia’s niece. It’s interesting to reflect that many modern cozies don’t feature mothers – at least not of young children. (Unless they’re a Finlay Donovan flavor of momma…) Winifred is eleven, with all the charm and challenge of that age. And a modern Amelia would likely not have the free time to engage in mystery-solving, on top of the job required for financial stability. But Regency Amelia can hire domestic help (a governess) and exist on aristocratic income, which gives her time for projects like investigations. It’s an interesting structural point, not least because Winifred adds an additional layer of engagement and buy-in as a reader. And it was nice to see that more intersectional identity represented – Amelia is a mother and a writer and an investigator, at all times.

Mystery for the romance lover

So, what about the mystery – and the romance? Both are… fine. The mystery pertains to a peripheral member of the ton. Amelia gets involved when the victim’s maid writes to her for help – and then turns up dead. That is to say, she’s involved out of duty and interest, but no personal stakes. The puzzle is almost an academic exercise, and while it’s solvable by engaging with the meta-narrative, I wouldn’t call it fully fair-play.

As for the romance, Simon is a fun romantic lead. Amelia’s narration constantly calls out his features – his green eyes, his large hands, and maybe a large knee? This is not exactly my thing, but I’ll accept that many enjoy it. So if you’re up for reminders of how darn good-looking the hero is, this might be your cuppa.

For me, the more compelling part of the romance lay in Amelia’s backstory. She married young and in part to escape the country; her marriage was fine, but not one of love. To some extent, this romance is her story of escape from mourning. But I hope that she gets a chance to truly “opt in” to love, rather than stumbling across a reasonably nice person for the second time.

Reader’s notes & rating (⭐⭐⭐✨)

Murder in PostScript was a fun, competent cozy mystery with some unique elements: the setting, the agony aunt conceit, the motherhood angle. But I found other elements distracted me from full enjoyment, including some historical blips and many references to Simon’s distracting beauty. A great read for fans of cozy mystery and fluffy historical romance alike, and I could see myself picking up the next entry for a rainy day in. 3.5 stars.

Murder in PostScript will be published March 28, 2023.