Aunt Dimity & the Duke

Written by Nancy Atherton and published by Penguin in 1994, I found this in the UBS. It seems to be a contemporary, gothic cosy set in Boston and the edge of Cornwall England. The description of cosies on that page is IMO a put down, but nevertheless it seems true. Why is 'light, easy, fun to read' less valuable? Never mind. I don't even want to open that can of worms.

Emma Porter is a 40 year old single computer programmer whose long term 'friend with benefits' has abruptly married a younger woman. Having planned an extensive summer vacation touring England's gardens, Emma goes ahead with her plans primarily to escape the sympathy of her friends and family. Derek Harris, a widower with two school age children has been hired to refurbish an old manor house on the Cornish coast. Mired in grief and depression, Derek does not notice his children are still suffering five years later.

Each of them has been lured to this remote coatal manor by the legendary Aunt Dimity. For those of you who are curious, dimity is a cotton fabric often used for curtains etc. For some reason I thought it was a type of food, a dessert. Anyhow- Aunt Dimity has maneuvered Derek and Emma to Penford Hall- one to restore the chapel and the other to restore the lady gardens.

Dead pop stars, vengeful remote cousins, elderly Brooklyn business managers and a missing, possibly mythical lamp combine to make a fascinating quick evening's read. Who hit Susannah on the head? Little Peter, troubled and anxious? Hallard, the mysterious ever typing footman? Or possibly Bantry, the head gardener? Did Grayson murder the pop star for his fortune? Who installed the super computers hidden upstairs?

On the romance side of the house: Can Emma let her guard down and mourn her dead relationship with Richard? Will Derek see the truth about his children? Can he finally let go of Mary's memory and move on? How can Grayson be so blind that he doesn't see Kate's love and devotion? Do kisses stolen amid hidden tunnels surrounded by rats and spiders really count?