Rhys Bowen gives her heroine an odd kind of ventriloquism to perform, and The Castle in the Glen is at its best when it lingers on what that costs her. Emma Callander is a working writer in 1965 London, competent enough at her own books but broke enough to take the job of finishing someone else's: Iris Blackburn, a celebrated mystery novelist whose memory is failing, wants Emma to complete her final manuscript before it's too late. What starts as a professional puzzle, matching another woman's cadence and habits of mind, turns into something stranger once Emma travels north to research the book's setting and finds that Iris's supposedly invented murder happened, more or less exactly as written, on the Isle of Skye in 1904.
Bowen doesn't rush the past into the present. The 1904 drowning and the disappearance of the young woman locals called the Wild Girl unspool in patient layers, filtered through gossip, old letters, and the closed ranks of an aristocratic family that has had sixty years to get its story straight. The castle itself does real work here: cold rooms, portraits nobody wants to talk about, a household staff that remembers more than the family does. I found myself more interested in the Wild Girl's absence than in any single clue about her, the way a name repeated by people who never knew her starts to stand in for a whole erased life.
The romance with Tony Gordon, Iris's lawyer and the person most invested in protecting the old woman from her own family's secrets, develops the way good book club romances should: slowly, through shared work rather than declared feeling, so that by the time it's stated outright it already feels true. But the real ache of the novel is Iris herself, watching someone else finish her sentences while she can still recognize, dimly, that they're hers. Emma's growing tenderness toward a woman she was hired to imitate gives the mystery its stakes; you read to find out who the Wild Girl was, but you also read to see whether Emma can hand Iris's story back to her intact before there's no Iris left to receive it.
Why you should read
- Readers who love a slow-burn Scottish castle mystery
- Fans of dual-timeline historical fiction
- Anyone who likes romance built on shared work, not declarations
- Readers drawn to stories about women's erased histories
What to expect
- A patient opening that rewards sticking with it
- Dual timelines: 1965 London and Scotland, and 1904 Skye
- A slow-building romance alongside the investigation
- An atmospheric castle setting with real emotional weight
The opening chapters ask real patience. A small crowd of names and family relations arrives before the story finds its footing, and the mystery takes a while to announce itself. Stick with it. Once Emma reaches Scotland the book settles into its true subject: who gets to keep a life on the record after everyone who remembers it firsthand is gone.