A debut novel with flashes of brilliance, and a deliciously Gothic vibe, The Cruel Night drew me in at once and I devoured the book in a single sitting. It’s a short read at just over 200 pages, but still delivers a compelling story that packs an unexpected emotional punch.

Author Bea Northwick sets up her Gothic atmosphere with heroine Millicent Foxboro’s first glimpse of Willowfield, the decaying mansion where she will spend the coming months working as an assistant to it’s brooding owner, mythology professor Callum Hughes:

“…a Châteauesque manor, forbidding against the cold gray sky. It was awe-inspiring, monstrous, and my gasp was part delight and dismay. An army of spires and turrets topped the hipped roofs, stabbing toward the heavens…”

The house, of course, is pivotal to the story. Willowfield doesn’t have the new-fangled electric lighting yet, and Millicent explores its mysteries in scenes oozing with eerie foreboding. Descriptive is a strength of Ms. Northwick’s and, sensibly, she leans on it, possibly more so than some readers might welcome, although for some of us too much lush gloom is just enough.

Professor Hughes is a brooding, enigmatic Gothic trope, a Mr. Rochester with a hidden past, unpredictable moods, and a sense of tragedy about him. His sexual innuendo, in their first encounter, seemed off-color for an employer and bothered me. He continues in the same vein, getting under Millicent’s skin. Emotionally vulnerable from a painful past and unnerving memory loss, she pushes back when he bullies her, but she is also drawn to him, and a charged chemistry develops between them that is both erotic and uneasy. This push/pull characteristic of Gothic romance is often a hot mess in the pulpy writing so prevalent in the sub-genre. It speaks to Ms. Northwick’s love of the genre and storytelling gift that she navigates the nuance deftly, while still writing steamy, sexually explicit scenes as the connection intensifies.

Blending themes from both Rebecca and My Cousin Rachel (Daphne du Maurier), the author delivers the pervasive suspense that grips readers of Gothic fiction. As the story advances there’s a relentless build-up: grim encounters with the ghost of the late Mrs. Hughes, dour warnings from retainers, an inexplicable dynamic with now-lover Callum, and a mistrust of her own instincts. Millicent’s past is rapidly converging on her present, and the two mesh in a well concealed plot twist. The climax of the story is dramatic, violent, and clever. For me, the true threat felt contrived, when it came, even though the past explained it. Given an unreliable narrator who was not putting the pieces together herself, readers might have appreciated a few more of Millicent’s patchy recollections without guessing the twist.

In the resolution phase, the hidden past is exposed, loose ends tied up, and questions about the strained intensity of Millicent’s relationship with Callum are answered. The final chapter delivers a welcome shift from past sorrows to future promise. Millicent’s emotional journey concludes with an extended internal monolog epiphany.  Some of that content could have been interwoven elsewhere, but as a ‘winding down’ it worked.

The Cruel Dark has its flaws, but comparing apples to apples it’s in the top tier of its sub-genre. For readers unfamiliar with the star-ratings at Regency Chronicle, 4.25 stars is a book we rate as excellent across multiple criteria, and which we highly recommend.

We thank the author, Northwick Books, and NetGalley for an advance copy. Cover image courtesy of Northwick Books © 2023.  Review by Meredith Thompson © 2023 The Regency Chronicle. Posted online by editor, Pam Baker.