Editorial Content for The Curse of Penryth Hall: A Ruby Vaughn Mystery

When Ruby Vaughn’s boss asks her to deliver a mysterious trunk of rare books to a man in Cornwall, she has no idea that she’ll be thrust into a complex --- and possibly supernatural --- mystery.

At first, the lively and unconventional Ruby is reluctant to make the trip on behalf of the kindly Mr. Owen. She has a violent hangover and would much rather relax at her comfortable home in Essex (where she’s recently installed a newfangled bathing pool) than traipse about the Cornish countryside. But her curiosity has been piqued. “Dangle the faintest hint of mystery before me and I would be captured like a fox in a snare,” she admits to herself. Plus, the excursion gives her an opportunity to visit her former friend and lover, Tamsyn Chenowyth. Years ago, Tamsyn broke off their relationship to marry Edward, a baronet and the owner of Penryth Hall, and Ruby hasn’t heard from her in 18 months.

"THE CURSE OF PENRYTH HALL delivers plenty of spooky ambiance courtesy of threatening rainstorms on rugged and craggy moors and a foreboding, fortress-like house... But there are also dashes of humor and wit."

Ruby’s unexpected journey sets the stage for Jess Armstrong’s debut novel, a moody and tense gothic mystery that evokes THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES and Daphne du Maurier. When Ruby arrives at Penryth Hall, she discovers that all is not well. Tamsyn is thin and withdrawn, with a “haunted” look in her eyes; Edward is cruel and possibly abusive. That night, Ruby is awakened after a strange dream and sees a mysterious figure in white slinking off into the trees near the house. The next morning, Edward’s mutilated body is discovered in the woods. The constable arrives to investigate. So does Ruan Kivell, the local pellar, or witch.

The philandering Sir Edward had no shortage of enemies (including his wife), and Ruby believes there is a logical explanation for his death. But Ruan and the local villagers aren’t so sure. They wonder if a fabled curse has struck Penryth Hall again. Perhaps the same “beast” that killed Edward’s uncle and his wife decades earlier is responsible for the most recent death. At first, the practically minded Ruby rejects the idea. “I didn’t sign up to be in someone’s fairy tale,” she tells Ruan. But she can’t ignore the increasingly bizarre things that keep happening, including her strange mental connection with Ruan. Even more alarming, Ruby has become a target herself. And even though Edward is dead, Tamsyn is still fearful for her safety and that of her young son.

THE CURSE OF PENRYTH HALL delivers plenty of spooky ambiance courtesy of threatening rainstorms on rugged and craggy moors and a foreboding, fortress-like house (though the latter setting isn’t used to full effect). But there are also dashes of humor and wit. Ruby is far from a shrinking gothic heroine. Instead, she’s a brash American heiress who fled to Europe after being caught in a compromising position with a married man at a society ball. (The Vanderbilts were “happy to see the back of me,” she quips about the escapade that forced her to leave New York.) During the First World War, she drove an ambulance on the front lines, which is where she met Tamsyn.

The lingering trauma of the war looms large in the book. Whether or not they believe in ghosts and curses, virtually everyone in the book is haunted by the past. A local mother struggles to cope following the apparent suicide of her shell-shocked son. Ruby’s boss, Mr. Owen, lost all three of his children in the conflict. Ruby is attempting to outrun the memories of her parents, who died on the Lusitania, while Tamsyn is desperately trying to get back to a more peaceful time. “She longed for a past that was dead, and I longed for a future that had not yet been born,” Ruby thinks.

Is a human or an otherworldly force to blame for Sir Edward’s death? As the book progresses, all signs point to the former. But Armstrong keeps the supernatural element in play, weaving in references to Cornish folk traditions and beliefs, from wish-granting mermaids to mischievous piskies, and suggesting that even if a man (or a woman) killed Edward, there are still forces in the world beyond our understanding. The book’s ending leaves a few threads dangling, especially when it comes to the simmering sexual tension between Ruby and Ruan. It also sets up future mysteries involving Ruby and Mr. Owen, an intriguing, if underdeveloped, character. Fans of gothic tales and unconventional heroines will likely have their fingers crossed that this isn’t the last they’ve seen of Ruby.