You never know what you are going to get when you pick up a new author, especially with a European Historical; at times I have wondered if the entire sub-genre isn’t just a played-out mine. Happily, The Veil of Night, Lydia Joyce’s debut, is promising. Thoughtful writing, insightful characters, and a fluid style make for a satisfying read.

Lady Victoria Wakefield is not entirely sure why she answers Lord Raeburn’s summons to his home, Raeburn Court. Yes, her brother Jack owes him money, but she’s almost past caring about that. His summons is rude and arrogant, and Raeburn has a wild and strange reputation. When she arrives, Raeburn makes an insulting offer: he will temporarily forgive debt (until Jack inherits the family fortune). In return, he wants Victoria to live with him for a week, and serve his every need.

Victoria surprises them both by accepting the offer. She’s a 32-year-old spinster with little to lose. She holds herself apart from society, wears unflattering clothing, and aspires to little more than the running of her family estate. As far as practical matters go, she’s just had her courses, so she knows there is little chance of pregnancy. Raeburn didn’t really expect Victoria to accept the offer, but after she does, he looks at her with new eyes – and can’t help finding her oddly attractive. He plans to spend the week figuring out what makes Victoria tick. Why isn’t she married? Why does she dress in such an odd fashion? Though his own life is shrouded in mystery, he plans to reveal little of it in return.

After their first explosive sexual encounter, Victoria and Raeburn find themselves even more drawn to each other. They enter into a pattern of awkwardness by day, hot sex by night. Raeburn shows Victoria the dower house that he is renovating, a curiously beautiful place that has little natural light (most of it is filtered through stained glass). They ride there in a windowless carriage. But though Victoria finds herself revealing her past and her feelings to Raeburn, he finds himself unable to reciprocate when she continually asks him why he avoids the light. Tragedy strikes during a picnic on a cloudy day, and both are injured. This separates them for a time, and eats into their cherished week together – but it also shows them how dependent they are upon each other. Will Victoria be able to leave when her week is over? Will Raeburn ever be able to be honest about his unusual affliction?

A lot of this probably sounds like something you’ve read before: the gothic atmosphere of darkness and mystery, the aging spinster, the reclusive nobleman. At times, some of it is a bit trite. The sex scenes are a little flowery (though I have to admit there is one involving a dessert that works better than most of its type). Raeburn’s secret is more or less what I thought it would be, and the lengths that he goes to hide it seem extreme and sometimes silly. He waits forever to tell Victoria the truth, and his frequent moping about the situation grates after awhile.

On the other hand, there is a lot that is original and fresh here. Victoria and Raeburn are “types,” certainly – but their characterization is vivid, detailed, and believable. They are thoughtful people with an interesting conflict between them, and Joyce does an excellent job of capturing the dichotomy of their sexual attraction and interpersonal awkwardness. They are strangers thrust into an intimate situation, and it makes for interesting reading. It’s also worth noting that while Raeburn’s secret doesn’t quite work, Victoria’s shady past does. Her behavior makes sense when her past is revealed, and the revelation is handled in a pitch-perfect way.

The main reason that most of the book works so well is the writing itself, which is beautiful and far above the norm – particularly for a first-time author. The prose is lyrical, and the characters’ thoughts are expressed in a mature and insightful way. Often there is more thought than dialogue, and it works well here because the characters both have thoughts worth listening to. If you’ve ever read a book with characters who seem to ruminate endlessly on the most boring topics imaginable (and I’ve read many), then you know how difficult it is to pull off this type of plot. The feat is even more impressive considering the fact that Victoria and Raeburn are the only main characters; Raeburn’s house has a handful of servants, and everyone else appears only briefly at the very beginning and the very end. So most of the book is just Rabeurn and Victoria, together and alone. And the author pulls it all off with considerable aplomb.

If you’re looking for a fresh voice in European Historicals, I’d give The Veil of the Night a try. Occasional cheesiness aside, it’s a solid read with writing and characterization that are definitely a cut above the norm.