I was sitting at my dining room table at 11:30 PM, surrounded by a teetering stack of sophomore essays on Lord of the Flies. My eyes were burning. My soul was tired. I needed something that wasn't symbolic of the breakdown of civilization. I needed fog, cobblestones, and polite people solving murders.
So I put on Garden of Lies. (Don't judge me. Even English teachers need a break from the heavy stuff.)
The Art of the Victorian Pause
Here's the thing about Louisa Jane Underwood's narration. She takes her time.
I usually preach the gospel of 1.0x speed to my students. I tell them, "The author chose those words, and the narrator chose that rhythm. Respect the art." My students look at me like I'm a dinosaur and crank their AirPods up to 2.0x.
But with this book? I almost—almost—joined the dark side.
Underwood has a lovely voice. Seriously. It's rich, proper, and she nails the differentiation between Ursula (the sensible agency owner) and Slater (the brooding archaeologist). She understands the tone perfectly. But wow, does she luxuriate in the prose. There were moments where I checked my phone to make sure the app hadn't paused. It hadn't. She was just... acting.
If you're looking for a thriller pace, this isn't it. But if you're walking along the lakefront on a gray Chicago morning—which is exactly where I was when I finished Chapter 4—it actually works. It feels atmospheric. Just know what you're signing up for.
Green-Gold Eyes and Archaeologists
The story itself? It's classic Amanda Quick. You've got Ursula Kern, a woman with a secret past running a secretarial agency (love that), and Slater Roxton, an adventurer with "unreadable green-gold eyes."
(Okay, pause. I tell my creative writing class to avoid descriptions like "unreadable green-gold eyes" because it sounds like a bad fanfic. But when Amanda Quick does it? I buy it. I don't know why. Maybe I'm just soft.)
The mystery is solid. It's not Dostoevsky, but it's not trying to be. It's a comfortable, slightly dark romp through Victorian London. I got a similar vibe from Theft of Swords—different setting, sure, but that same blend of mystery and banter. It reminds me a bit of Wilkie Collins, but with more romance and less opium. The chemistry between Ursula and Slater is a slow burn—which matches the narration speed, honestly.
Who's This For (And Who Should Skip It)
If you love historical mysteries and have patience for deliberate pacing, this one's for you. Skip it if you need constant momentum—this book strolls through Victorian London, it doesn't sprint.
My Confession from the Lakefront
Look, the production quality is crisp. No weird background hiss, which is a pet peeve of mine. And there's a bonus epilogue included in the audio version that isn't in the print book—a nice little treat for us listeners.
But here is my confession: About halfway through, somewhere around the time Slater was being particularly brooding, I bumped the speed to 1.25x.
I know. I'm a hypocrite. If my students find out, I'll never hear the end of it. But it helped. The story flowed better, the dialogue snapped a bit more, and I didn't feel like I was wading through molasses.
If you're grading papers and need to stay awake? 1.25x is the sweet spot. It's a good listen, just a slow one.
