- Shopping Bag ( 0 items )
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Other Boleyn Girl comes the final book of the extraordinary Wideacre trilogy as the heir to the great estate comes home at last.
Meridon knows she does not belong in the dirty, vagabond life of a gypsy bareback rider. The half-remembered vision of another life burns in her heart, even as her beloved sister, Dandy, risks everything for their future. Alone, Meridon follows the urgings of her dream, riding in the moonlight past ...
Ships from: Fontana, CA
Usually ships in 1-2 business days
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Other Boleyn Girl comes the final book of the extraordinary Wideacre trilogy as the heir to the great estate comes home at last.
Meridon knows she does not belong in the dirty, vagabond life of a gypsy bareback rider. The half-remembered vision of another life burns in her heart, even as her beloved sister, Dandy, risks everything for their future. Alone, Meridon follows the urgings of her dream, riding in the moonlight past the rusted gates, up the winding drive to a house—clutching the golden clasp of the necklace that was her birthright—home at last to Wideacre. The lost heir of one of England’s great estates would take her place as its mistress...
Meridon is a rich, impassioned tapestry of a young woman’s journey from dreams to glittering drawing rooms and elaborate deceits, from a simple hope to a deep and fulfilling love. Set in the savage contrasts of Georgian England—a time alive with treachery, grandeur, and intrigue—Meridon is Philippa Gregory’s masterwork.
Concluding the bestselling trilogy that began with Wideacre and The Favored Child, this passionate story tells of a young woman's struggle from poverty to wealth in Georgian England. "Gregory brings down the curtain on her Lacey family trilogy in breathlessly dramatic form. . . ."--Kirkus.
Pittsburgh Press Captivating.
Chattanooga News-Free Press Compelling, absorbing...an unforgettable page-turner.
I don't belong here," I said to myself, before I even opened my eyes.
It was my morning ritual. To ward off the smell and the dirt and the fights and the noise of the day. To keep me in that bright green place in my mind, which had no proper name; I called it "Wide."
"I don't belong here," I said again. A dirty-faced fifteen-year-old girl frowsy-eyed from sleep, blinking at the hard gray light filtering through the grimy window. I looked up to the arched ceiling of the caravan, the damp sacking near my face as I lay on the top bunk; and then I glanced quickly to my left to the other bunk to see if Dandy was awake.
Dandy: my black-eyed black-haired, equally dirty-faced sister. Dandy, the lazy one, the liar, the thief.
Her eyes, dark as blackberries, twinkled at me.
"I don't belong here," I whispered once more to the dream world of Wide, which faded even as I called to it. Then I said aloud to Dandy:
"Did you dream of it - Sarah?" she asked softly, calling me by my magic secret name. The name I knew from my dreams of Wide. The magic name I use in that magic land.
"Yes," I said, and I turned my face away from her to the stained wall and tried not to mind that Wide was just a dream and a pretense. That the real world was here. Here where they knew nothing of Wide, had never even heard of such a place. Where, except for Dandy, they would not call me Sarah as I had once asked. They had laughed at me and gone on calling me by my real name, Meridon.
"What did you dream?" Dandy probed. She was not cruel, but she was too curious to spare me.
"I dreamed I had a father, a great big fair-headed man and he lifted me up. High, high up onto his horse. And I rode before him, down a lane away from our house and past some fields. Then up a path which went higher and higher, and through a wood and out to the very top of the fields, and he pointed his horse to look back down the way we had come, and I saw our house: a lovely square yellow house, small as a toy-house on the green below us."
"Go on," said Dandy.
"Shut up, you two," a muffled voice growled in the half-light of the caravan. "It's still night."
"It ain't," I said, instantly argumentative. My father's dark, tousled head peered around the head of his bunk and scowled at me. "I'll strap you," he warned me. "Go to sleep."
I said not another word. Dandy waited, and in a few moments she said in a whisper so soft that our Da - his head buried beneath the dirty blankets - could not hear: "What then?"
"We rode home," I said, screwing my eyes tight to relive the vision of the little redheaded girl and the fair man and the great horse and the cool green of the arching beech trees over the drive. "And then he let me ride alone."
Dandy nodded, but she was unimpressed. We had both been on and around horses since we were weaned. And I had no words to convey the delight of the great strides of the horse in the dream.
"He was telling me how to ride," I said. My voice went quieter still, and my throat tightened. "He loved me," I said miserably. "He did. I could tell by the way he spoke to me. He was my Da - but he loved me."
"And then?" said Dandy, impatient.
"I woke up," I said. "That was all."
"Didn't you see the house, or your clothes, or the food?" she asked, disappointed.
"No," I said. "Not this time."
"Oh," she said and was silent a moment. "I wish I could dream of it like you do," she said longingly. "T'aint fair."
A warning grunt from the bed made us lower our voices again.
"I wish I could see it," she said.
"You will," I promised. "It is a real place. It is real somewhere. I know that somewhere it is a real place. And we will both be there, someday."
"Wide," she said. "It's a funny name."
"That's not the whole name," I said cautiously. "Not quite Wide. Maybe it's something-Wide. I never hear it clear enough. I listen and I listen but I'm never quite sure of it. But it's a real place. It is real somewhere. And it's where I belong."
I lay on my back and looked at the stains on the sacking roof of the caravan and smelled the stink of four people sleeping close with no windows open, the acid smell of stale urine from last night's pot.
"It's real somewhere," I said to myself. "It has to be."
There were three good things in my life, that dirty painful life of a gypsy child with a father who cared nothing for her, and a stepmother who cared less. There was Dandy, my twin sister - as unlike me as if I were a changeling. There were the horses we trained and sold. And there was the dream of Wide.
If it had not been for Dandy I think I would have run away as soon as I was old enough to leave. I would have upped and gone, run off to one of the sleepy little villages in the New Forest in that hot summer of 1805 when I was fifteen. That was the summer I turned on Da and stood up to him for the first time ever.
We had been breaking a pony to sell as a lady's ride. I said the horse was not ready for a rider. Da swore she was. He was wrong. Anyone but an idiot could have seen that the horse was nervy and half-wild. But Da had put her on the lunge rein two or three times and she had gone well enough. He wanted to put me up on her. He didn't waste his breath asking Dandy to do it. She would have smiled one of her sweet slow smiles and disappeared off for the rest of the day with a hunk of bread and a rind of cheese in her pocket. She'd come back in the evening with a dead chicken tucked in her shawl, so there was never a beating for Dandy.
But he ordered me up on the animal. A half-wild, half-foolish foal too young to be broke, too frightened to be ridden.
"She's not ready," I said, looking at the flaring nostrils and the rolling whites of her eyes and smelling that special acrid smell of fearful sweat.
"She'll do," Da said. "Get up on her."
I looked at Da, not at the horse. His dark eyes were red-rimmed, the stubble on his chin stained his face blue. The red kerchief at his neck showed bright against his pallor. He had been drinking last night and I guessed he felt ill. He had no patience to stand in the midday sunshine with a skittish pony on a lunge rein.
"I'll lunge her," I offered. "I'll train her for you."
"You'll ride her, you cheeky dog," he said to me harshly. "No whelp tells me how to train a horse."
"What's the hurry?" I asked, backing out of arm's reach. Da had to hold the horse and could not grab me.
"I got a buyer," he said. "A farmer at Beaulieu wants her for his daughter. But he wants her next week for her birthday or summat. So she's got to be ready for then."
"I'll lunge her," I offered again. "I'll work her all day, and tomorrow or the day after I'll get up on her."
"You get up now," he said harshly. Then he raised his voice and yelled: "Zima!" and my stepmother came out into the sunshine from the gloomy caravan. "Hold 'er," he said nodding at the horse and she jumped down from the caravan step, and went past me without a word.
"I want summat inside the wagon," he said under his breath and I stood aside like a fool to let him go past me. But as soon as he was near he grabbed me with one hard grimy hand and twisted my arm behind my back so hard that I could hear the bone creak and I squeaked between clenched teeth for the pain.
"Get up on 'er," he said softly in my ear, his breath foul. "Or I'll beat you till you can't ride 'er, nor any other for a week."
I jerked away from him: sullen, ineffective. And I scowled at my stepmother, who stood picking her teeth with her free hand and watching this scene. She had never stood between me and him in my life. She had seen him beat me until I went down on my knees and cried and cried for him to stop. The most she had ever done for me was to tell him to stop because the noise of my sobbing was disturbing her own baby. I felt that I was utterly unloved, utterly uncared for; and that was no foolish girl's fear. That was the bitter truth.
"Get up," Da said again, and came to the horse's head.
I looked at him with a gaze as flinty as his own. "I'll get up and she'll throw me," I said. "You know that, so do I. And then I'll get on her again and again and again. We'll never train her like that. If you had as much brains inside you as you have beer, you'd let me train her. Then at least we'd have a sweet-natured animal to show this farmer. The way you want to do it we'll show him a whipped idiot."
I had never spoken to him like that before. My voice was steady but my belly quivered with fright at my daring.
He looked at me for a long hard moment.
"Get up," he said. Nothing had changed.
I waited for one moment, in case I had a chance, or even half a chance, to win my way in this. His face was flinty-hard, and I was only a young girl. I met his gaze for a moment. He could see the fight go out of me.
I checked he was holding the horse tight at the head and then I turned and gripped hold of the saddle and sprang up.
As soon as she felt the weight of me on her back she leaped like a mountain goat, stiff-legged sideways, and stood there trembling like a leaf with the shock. Then, as if she had only waited to see that it was not some terrible nightmare, she reared bolt upright to her full height, dragging the reins from Da's hands. Da, like a fool, let go - as I had known all along he would - and there was nothing then to control the animal except the halter around her neck. I clung on like a limpet, gripping the pommel of the saddle while she went like a sprinting bullock - alternately head down and hooves up bucking, and then standing high on her hind legs and clawing the air with her front hooves in an effort to be rid of me. There was nothing in the world to do but to cling on like grim death and hope that Da would be quick enough to catch the trailing reins and get the animal under control before I came off. I saw him coming toward the animal and he was quite close. But the brute wheeled with an awkward sideways shy which nearly unseated me. I was off-balance and grabbing for the pommel of the saddle to get myself into the middle of her back again when she did one of her mighty rears and I went rolling backward to the hard ground below.
I bunched up as I fell, in an instinctive crouch, fearing the flailing hooves. I felt the air whistle as she kicked out over my head, but she missed by an inch and galloped away to the other side of the field. Da, cursing aloud, went after her, running past me without even a glance in my direction to see how I fared.
I sat up. My stepmother, Zima, looked at me without interest.
I got wearily to my feet. I was shaken but not hurt except for the bruises on my back where I had hit the ground. Da had hold of the reins and was whipping the poor animal around the head while she reared and screamed in protest. I watched stony-faced. You'd never catch me wasting sympathy on a horse which had thrown me. Or on anything else.
"Get up," he said without looking around for me.
I walked up behind him and looked at the horse. She was a pretty enough animal, half New Forest, half some bigger breed. Dainty, with a bright bay-colored coat which glowed in the sunlight. Her mane and tail were black, coarse and knotted now, but I would wash her before the buyer came. I saw that Dad had whipped her near the eye and a piece of the delicate eyelid was bleeding slightly.
"You fool," I said in cold disgust. "Now you've hurt her, and it'll show when the buyer comes."
"Don't you call me a fool, my girl," he said rounding on me, the whip still in his hands. "Another word out of you and you get a beating you won't forget. I've had enough from you for one day. Now get up on that horse and stay on this time."
I looked at him with the blank insolence which I knew drove him into mindless temper with me. I pushed the tangled mass of my copper-colored hair away from my face and I stared at him with my green eyes as inscrutable as a cat. I saw his hand tighten on the whip and I smiled at him, delighting in my power, even if it lasted for no more than this one morning.
"And who'd ride her then?" I taunted. "I don't see you getting up on an unbroke horse. And Zima couldn't get on a donkey with a ladder against its side. There's no one who can ride her but me. And I don't choose to this morning. I'll do it this afternoon."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked away from him, swaying my hips in as close an imitation of my stepmother's languorous slink as I could manage. Done by a skinny fifteen-year-old in a skirt which barely covered her calves, it was far from sensual. But it spoke volumes of defiance to my Da, who let out a great bellow of rage and dropped the horse's reins to come after me.
He spun me around and shook me until my hair fell over my eyes and I could hardly see his red angry face.
"You'll do as I order or I'll throw you out!" he said in utter rage. "You'll do as I order or I'll beat you as soon as the horse is sold. You'd better remember that I am as ready to beat you tomorrow night as I am today. I have a long memory for you."
I shook my head to get the hair out of my eyes, and to clear my mind. I was only fifteen and I could not hold onto courage against Da when he started bullying me. My shoulders slumped and my face lost its arrogance. I knew he would remember this defiance if I did not surrender now. I knew that he would beat me - not only when the horse was sold, but again every time he remembered it.
"All right," I said sullenly. "All right. I'll ride her."
Together we cornered her in the edge of the field and this time he held tighter on to the reins when I was on her back. I stayed on a little longer but again and again she threw me. By the time Dandy was home with a vague secretive smile and a rabbit stolen from someone else's snare dangling from her hand, I was in my bunk covered with bruises, my head thudding with the pain of falling over and over again.
She brought me a plate of rabbit stew where I lay.
"Come on out," she invited. "He's all right, he's drinking. And he's got some beer for Zima too, so she's all right. Come on out and we can go down to the river and swim later. That'll help your bruising."
"No," I said sullenly. "I'm going to sleep. I don't want to come out and I don't care whether he's fair or foul. I hate him. I wish he was dead. And stupid Zima too. I'm staying here, and I'm going to sleep."
Dandy stretched up so that she could reach me in the top bunk and nuzzled her face against my cheek. "Hurt bad?" she asked softly.
"Bad on the outside and bad inside," I said, my voice low. "I wish he was dead. I'll kill him myself when I'm bigger."
Dandy stroked my forehead with her cool dirty hand. "And I'll help you," she said with a ripple of laughter in her voice. "The Ferenz family are nearby; they're going down to the river to swim. Come too, Meridon!"
I sighed. "Not me," I said. "I'm too sore, and angry. Stay with me, Dandy."
She brushed the bruise on my forehead with her lips. "Nay," she said sweetly. "I'm away with the Ferenz boys. I'll be back at nightfall."
Excerpted from Meridon by Gregory, Philippa Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
By Philippa Gregory
Reading Group Discussion Guide
Meridon knows she does not belong in the dirty, vagabond life of a gypsy bareback rider. The half-remembered vision of another life STAYS WITH HER, even as her beloved sister, Dandy, risks everything for their future. Alone, Meridon follows the PROMPTING of her dream, riding in the moonlight past the rusted gates, up the winding drive to a house — clutching the golden clasp of the necklace that was her birthright — home at last to Wideacre. The lost heir to one of England's great estates would take her place as its mistress...
Crowning the extraordinary trilogy that began with Wideacre and The Favored Child, Meridon is a rich, impassioned tapestry of a young woman's journey from dreams to glittering drawing rooms and elaborate deceits...from a simple hope to a deep and fulfilling love. Set in the savage contrasts of Georgian England — a time alive with treachery, grandeur, and intrigue — Meridon is Philippa Gregory's masterwork.
1. How does Meridon's gypsy life with Dandy, Da, and Zima compare with the world of "Wide" that she imagines? What explains her faith in the existence of this mysterious place that she calls her home and her refuge?
2. To what extent do Meridon and Dandy's lives change for the better when Robert Gower takes them on as part of his Amazing Aerial and Equestrian Show? How does Meridon's involvement in this show give her an enhanced sense of belonging and family? What aspects of her participation contribute to her increased isolation?
3. "Her name is Sarah! Sarah..." How does Meridon's true identity as Sarah Lacey, daughter of landed gentry and true heir to Wideacre, reveal itself over the course of the novel? How does her Quality background betray itself before the facts of her identity are known to her?
4. What explains the intense closeness Meridon feels toward her adopted sister, Dandy? How does Dandy's death affect Meridon, and how do her feelings for Dandy influence her relationships with others, both romantic and platonic?
5. "At the foot of the hill I could see the village. My village. The village my Mama had known. I saw it through my eyes, I saw it through her eyes." How does Meridon come into possession of Wideacre, and what role does her mother (and her mother's guardian James Fortescue) play in that transformation?
6. As a gypsy, Meridon has known poverty and hardship, but as Sarah Lacey, she comes to enjoy luxury and extreme affluence. How does Sarah's ownership of Wideacre affect her attitudes and views about the differences between the Quality and common folk?
7. Lady Clara Havering tells Sarah: "We live in a world where money is the measure of everything. There is never enough money. However much you have, you always want more." How do Sarah's experiences with Perry and Lady Clara bear out this statement? How do the Haverings's HAVERINGS" efforts to acquire land and wealth differ from Sarah's efforts?
8. Sarah is willing to marry Perry Havering because she believes she can dominate him and successfully control her land, not because she loves him. Why might such a practice (the loveless marriage) have been practiced in Georgian England? To what extent do you think Sarah's decision is driven by greed?
9. "I was never going to fall out of the charmed circle of the rich. I was never going to be poor again." What might explain Sarah's lack of sympathy for the poor in her midst? What does being poor represent to her? To what extent is Sarah's resolve to remain wealthy and index of her fear of the alternative?
10. As a young girl, Meridon asks an old fortuneteller: "Will I become a lady? Will I find my home?" and the fortuneteller replies with this riddle about Meridon's ancestors: "You'll belong to their land in a way they never could." How does the climactic end of Meridon fulfill the fortuneteller's prophecy in an unexpected way, and what role does Will Tyacke play in this development?
ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB
Please visit Philippa Gregory's own site with an active readers' group at Philippa Gregory.com.
1. To listen to an interview with Philippa Gregory, author of Meridon, in which she discusses her involvement with readers of her books, visit: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/writers/writer.asp?cid=934860&cds2Pid=280&linkid=591638
2. If you were intrigued by Meridon's exploits as a member of Robert Gower's aerial and equestrian show, visit http://www.bobby-roberts.co.uk/history.htm to learn more about the history of the circus in England.
3. To learn more about the social conditions that enabled Sarah Lacey to catch typhus, visit http://www.victorianweb.org/science/health/health10.html and read up on infectious diseases of the 19th century.
Posted December 29, 2010
A good read. Even though the first third of the novel goes into great detail about Meridon's life in the circus, you learn of it's significance toward the end of the novel. The story seamlessly blends into the new life of Meridon once she gets back to her home turf, Wideacre, but there seems to be a gap in the story that doesn't fully explain (to my satisfaction) how Meridon, not knowing about her roots, came to 'yearn' for Wideacre. She was given away at birth to Gypsy's and later sold to a circus manager, so where does the yearning stem from? (This is not a spoiler; her being given away to Gypsy's is told in the 2nd novel "A Favored Child"). If she was born with an insightful "gift" as her grandmother, then this novel failed to expound on that as it was done in the 1st & 2nd novels. Beside that, Phillpa Gregary does a very good job in introducing new characters in the story whose behaviors are more deviant, giving the novel more spice. I found myself unable to put the book down, as usual with any of Gregory's novels. Although my favorite of the trilogy was "Wideacre", this novel put a satisfying closure to the trilogy.
1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 28, 2013
I couldnt put this book down and finished it in record time. This series from ms Gregory definitly did not disappoint. The way that she describes her characters and the situations makes it possible for you to get lost in the story, your imagination running wild. I just wish that there was more to the series, I didnt want it to end!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 29, 2012
I love this book. Gregory has a way of making you completely disagree with the main character's actions at times but still wanting her to prevail in the end. The first novel in the trilogy (Wideacre), I agree, was mildy disturbing. I think the second novel (The Favored Child) brings the story to a great place with Meridon as the main character. I would definitely recommend this book. While you probably could read it without having read the first two novels, I would recommend reading the entire series. Philippa Gregory is a great storyteller!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted March 14, 2012
Posted April 10, 2011
Posted March 23, 2011
I read the first 2 in the trilogy and they were amazing. This one does not fail to follow in that path. Very exciting characters and Philippa Gregory's writing always keeps you engrossed. Totally different story ...very interesting and you just want to keep on reading.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
After reading all of the Henry VIII/Boleyn series, I thought I would try Ms. Gregory's earlier efforts. The difference in the writing, plots, and character development was astounding. The first three (The Wideacre Trilogy: Wideacre, The Favored Child, and Meridon) seemed to be written for a much different audience, one interested in titillating, illicit romance stories with, for the most part, flat, unsympathetic characters. How she managed to stretch this absurd story line through more than 1500 pages is beyond me. The maturity of her more recent work is certainly not predicted here. Although Meridon was the best of the three works, with fewer two-dimensional characters and a little less absurd plot, it was still far inferior to Ms. Gregory's historical fiction.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 12, 2009
Posted September 29, 2008
I read meridon a while back and i thought to myself how did i not put in a review for this book?! it was amazing. Didnt want it to end. I would have to say that if i had to rate which one was my absolute favorite...It would have to be wideacre book 1 of the trilogy. Philippa gregory brings her characters to life. She is incredible and i am so excited to see new work out by her! ladies and gentleman, if you read a bad review for this book....Ignore it....They dont know what they are talking about!!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted May 8, 2008
When I was reading inside the book it said 'one of her best books yet',good thing I've already read three other ones of Philippa Gregory or I would have been scared to read the others books she's written.I saw it all coming before I even got to half the pages,plus at times it bored me. I'm usually good about reading them quickly this one I sometimes dreaded picking back up,I had to make myself.I always make myself a promise I'm not allowed to buy another book til I've finished the new one I bought,in fact I bought this one discounted I'm glad, I did. I would have been so mad to pay full price for it.Don't get me wrong it did pick up and get better towards the end either that or I was so glad to be done with it.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted April 16, 2008
This was by far the best book and you really don't need to read other two, but I would recommend reading them in order. Meridon goes from a gypsy to a lady of quality, living in both worlds not knowing who she is and then in the end she finds herself and finally sticks up for herself. The ending finally closes the trilogy and while you may be able to guess it, it was nice after the other two books leaving things unfinished. Meridon becomes a strong woman and thank god after so many times during the novel, I got annoyed with her weaknest.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 31, 2007
In my opinion, Wideacre and The Favored Child were better stories...more compelling to read. This book was easier to put down and I didn't have the same desire to keep turning the pages. Though this entire series is very 'dark' fiction, I applaud the talents of Ms. Gregory. I do wonder how Meridon/Sarah could have turned out as she did considering her genetic background.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted November 8, 2007
Posted May 22, 2007
I tought it was a wonderful ending! It was such a good way to wrap up the trilogy. Both the first one and the second one had sad endings (in a way) while this one ended happily! It was great!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted January 26, 2007
I ablsolutely loved this books. It gave the Wideacre trilogy the eact ending that it needed and deserved. and once again the charactors of Ms. Gregory's novel were never boring or dull. Bravo!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted August 21, 2006
This book is the final in the Wideacre Trilogy. It was just as emotional and compelling as the first 2 books, but the Lacey family finally gets a happy ending with Sarah/Meridon. I recommend this trilogy to lovers of historical fiction. I am sad that it is over!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted June 8, 2005
This was definatly the ending I was exspecting, I am so glad that I continued to read all the way through the 3 books. You may have been disgusted by beatrice in the 1st book and wanted to yell at Julias stupidity in the second but Meridon in the 3rd really makes up for it all!!! I encourage you to read it!!! Enjoy!!!Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted September 24, 2004
Not as good as the favoured child but still tons better than Wideacre - It would have been fantastic if it had tied up the loose ends left at the end of 'The Favoured Child'and if there were more connections in the storyline to 'Julia Lacey' I was very disappointed Philippa Gregory did not do this. However it did have a fantastic end which made up for what it lacked. Really sad to finish it as it meant the whole trilogy was over.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.
Posted October 11, 2003
This book is exactly what was needed to wrap up the dark, captivating Lacey saga-- Meridon is a classic Lacey, as thoroughly deceitful as her grandmother but smart enough to see past all the phoniness in her world. She is an amazing character and the romance and plot twists in this book are sensational! I never wanted it to end.Was this review helpful? Yes NoThank you for your feedback. Report this reviewThank you, this review has been flagged.