Murder in Mayfair is D.M. Quincy’s (https://www.dmquincy.com/) debut novel in the Atlas Catesby series, and, while I started with high hopes from the enticing synopsis, they became increasingly lowered as I read on. This book just did not pull it all together for me.
Atlas Catesby, usually traveling the globe, has been stuck in London due to an injured foot. While he and his friend are at a pub, they hear that a man is selling off his wife to the highest bidder. Outraged and unable to stand for such cruelty, Atlas purchases Mrs. Warwick to save her from lecherous townsfolk. He brings her to stay with his sister, and, as he learns more about her, he begins to despise her husband more and more, while fighting a growing attraction to this strong woman. Unfortunately, after several argumentative meetings with her husband, Mr. Warwick is found murdered in his bed above his shop. Both Atlas and Mrs. Warwick become suspects, and he soon realizes that he’ll have to take up the investigation in order to maintain their innocence.
Although the premise of the book is quite interesting – saving a woman from being sold (sold!) by her husband – I don’t think it quite carried off, and it was due to a couple of factors.
First, the presentation of the plot was not quite up to scratch. I think it was meant to be suspenseful, but I certainly never felt that atmosphere, and there were plenty of opportunities to create it. The important parts of the story were expressly told to us; there was no sense of layered plotting. The reader knew what was significant and what was not, which didn’t lend enough air of a mystery and gave a fairly good idea as to who the culprit was.
Second, I was not a huge fan of Atlas himself, which was a surprise to me. He has his own sense of honor, is an attractive bachelor, has a troubled past, and wants to avenge the wrongs done to others. Sound familiar? Yes, you’re right – it’s almost identical to a lazy description of Sebastian St. Cyr. Knowing what a huge fan of his I am, I expected Atlas to be my next fictional crush. But, he didn’t make the cut.
I can’t say that it was any one thing about Atlas that put me off, but my issues with the storytelling didn’t help. I feel that Quincy crammed too much into one story, for a start. Atlas’ growing feelings for Mrs. Warwick throughout the book seem too fast for just having rescued her from an abusive marriage. He also contradicts himself a lot where she’s concerned: one minute he’s saying how he doesn’t care for social convention and the next he’s omitting things from the police because it would harm her reputation, and avoiding telling her things that might be distressing (IMO, the things could not have been as near as distressing as the abuse from her husband).
A few of Atlas’ friends mention that he’s intelligent, but the most evidence readers see of that is that he likes to do puzzles and solved some minor mysteries when he was younger. All in all, not an impressive resume. Atlas is also very rash; he gets so fired up over Mrs. Warwick that he comes to punches with people, organizes a duel, and threatens more than one person. If he learns something while investigating, he’d rather go deal his justice than look at the bigger picture.
Part of his wanting to protect women is because of his sister’s death when he was younger, which still haunts him. Do I have a problem with this? No. Is it legitimate? Yes. However, again, it just wasn’t expressed well. It could have been built upon in future books, embellished to drive home the point, or hidden as a surprise reveal later. Alas, it was just one revelation among many in a book that was too busy.
While Atlas is young, rebellious, troubled, disorganized, and curious, Sebastian St. Cyr is that and everything that Atlas isn’t. He’s a multilayered character with hidden depths that readers haven’t reached yet, even at the 15th book. He’s suave, debonair, and knows when to stop pushing. His code of honor and mind won’t let a case rest, and sometimes he does go too far, but he makes sure of what he knows before taking action. He is not impetuous like Atlas, and that has saved him a lot of trouble. There’s only room for one handsome, crime-solving rogue in 1800’s London, and it’s Sebastian St. Cyr.