In THE ART OF A LIE, Laura Shepherd-Robinson takes us back to London in 1749 when women had few rights, and the clever ones learned to use their wits to survive. We meet Hannah Cole a few weeks after the murder of her husband, Jonas. The confectionery shop that had been in her family for generations is struggling now that suppliers have learned a woman is running it. They're overcharging her, and she's not sure how long she'll be able to stay in business.

The expertly created narrative is explicit in sharing how women were treated then. Hannah couldn't sell any of the expensive fittings in the shop because word would get out. Her suppliers would want more money in advance, which she would have to borrow. Her father had warned against borrowing money, "[b]ut he'd never worn a widow's weeds, never known how the world conspired to punish a woman for the crime of wanting to earn an honest living."

"The ending is exceptional. It's quite the feat to leave us feeling both heart-warmed and bereft at the same time."

The thought of losing her family's shop is devastating to her. But when her husband's closest relative --- his cousin, Daniel --- informs Hannah that Jonas had the huge sum of 1,500 pounds in the bank, she is astounded. While Daniel, as the closest male heir, would receive most of the money, her third --- in combination with her shop --- would allow her to survive.

With Shepherd-Robinson's exceptionally complex plot, there are horrors and terrible problems that Hannah and others must overcome, and then follow resolutions that seem to indicate a bright and secure future. We ride this rollercoaster, up and down, through the whole novel. We slowly discover the truth about Hannah's marriage and about her husband. We also learn a lot about the other main character, William Devereux.

Because the novel begins with Hannah narrating the events in first person, it's a bit of a shock that the narrator changes to Devereux in the book’s second part. It's brilliant because between the two narrators, Shepherd-Robinson convinces us that we know what is going on, while she is superbly misdirecting us. Devereux tells Hannah that he helped her husband with an investment, and together they try to determine where Jonas obtained the money. But the motives in investigating the source of the funds are at odds with each other.

Henry Fielding, the novelist-turned-investigator and another character in the novel, is looking for Jonas' killer, and he doesn't think the murder was random. Was Jonas killed for that large sum of money? In the meantime, Devereux is winning Hannah's heart. He told her about an Italian confection --- iced cream --- and went to great lengths to help her figure out how to make it. It becomes hugely popular in her shop, giving Hannah hope that it might survive with her running it. But we soon learn that there is more on Devereux's mind than just helping Hannah.

There are so many lies and so many actors with agendas that reading Hannah's narrative, followed by Devereux's, is akin to watching a high-speed tennis match. Our heads are constantly moving from one side to the other to keep track of the ball. But the ball we think is in play is really not what we should be watching.

In addition to her masterfully conceived, intricately woven plots, what makes Shepherd-Robinson's books so memorable are the characters she creates. Both protagonists are flawed, but we also wonder if they are, at heart, good people who have been forced to respond to terrible circumstances. Would we have been any different in their shoes?

The ending is exceptional. It's quite the feat to leave us feeling both heart-warmed and bereft at the same time. We are left wondering about the nature of love versus survival. To what lengths will someone in love go to protect the object of their affections? And we are left wondering about the true natures of both Hannah and Devereux, and considering whether or not we were hoodwinked by their actions.