I was a little confused when I saw this new book because I knew that Lucinda Riley very sadly died of cancer in 2021 but then I saw that it was originally published in 2012 and has been republished in 2025 – and I’m so glad it has. I loved her Seven Sisters series but had not really investigated her other work, so finding this was a real pleasure.

It begins a world away from mine: Emilie de la Martiniéres is an orphan, her mother having recently passed away, and as the only heir, Emilie has to navigate not only her grief for the mother she had always found hard to love, but also the minefield of becoming the owner of the family house in Paris and the family chateau in Gassin in the south of France, including the vineyard attached, as well as her late father’s extensive library and countless works of art and jewellery. Obviously, money is not the problem but as is so often the case, family secrets emerge at a time when there seems to be no one left to ask. A book of poems written by her aunt is central to the plot. Aunt Sophia, whose portrait hangs on the wall of the chateau, died young and Emilie’s father would never talk about her. It was her actions, however, which altered the course of the family history. This beautiful young woman is the key to Emilie’s search for the truth.

A chance meeting with Sebastian Carruthers, an art expert, seems to be a lucky quirk of fate as he quickly ingratiates himself with a vulnerable Emilie and offers to help her journey through the labyrinth of legalities, advising her, supporting her and ultimately marrying her. He is her knight in shining armour and their romance is certainly fast-paced. It seems, however, that Yorkshire-born Sebastian, who normally works in London, was not actually in France by chance but seeking information about his late grandmother, Constance Carruthers, who, it emerges, was somehow linked to Emilie’s father and the chateau. What a coincidence!

The narrative is a bit slow to start but it’s well worth sticking with it

The narrative shifts to 1943 when a young Constance is selected for the SOE. Her husband is missing in action, she has no children, a quick mind and a sense of patriotic duty: the perfect choice. Having studied for three years at the Sorbonne, she is also well suited to life in France. Fate once again plays a part when, on arrival in France, her contact does not appear and Constance finds herself in the ‘gilded prison’ of Edouard de la Martiniéres Paris home and subject to the advances of a cruel German Officer, Falk, who is the polar opposite of his gentler twin, Frederik.

The narrative shifts again, to Yorkshire in 1999, when the newlyweds arrive at Blackmoor Hall, Sebastian’s family home, while renovations of the French Chateau take place. Any seeds of doubt about Sebastian and that ‘chance meeting’ with Emilie are fuelled when it quickly becomes apparent that all is not quite as it seems. Sebastian does not get on with his wheelchair-bound brother, Alex, with whom he shares joint ownership of the ancestral home. His cruelty is subtle but nonetheless real and intentional and his attitude to Emilie is much changed. She finds herself left alone in the cold and gloomy house while Sebastian heads to London and back to France on business.

Who knows what inner strengths we have and what resilience, when we have never had to prove it.

Alex lives in an adapted apartment in the Hall and Emilie shares an occasional supper with her brother-in-law. He will not reveal the reasons for the fraternal ill-feeling but certainly does not appear to be the villain he’s painted to be by Sebastian. Emilie also returns to France to oversee the work on the chateau and is surprised to learn that Sebastian has spent two days there – something he failed to mention in any of their rare telephone calls. More doubts.

Again, the narrative shifts, as Emilie, intrigued by Constance Carruthers and her involvement with the de la Martiniéres, hears her story as related by Jacques, the old vintner at the chateau. It is one of the many tales of the French Resistance during the German occupation of France; of bravery and danger and death, where lies and subterfuge were imperative for survival. Constance may have had ‘a quiet war’ but it was certainly not uneventful and she certainly fulfilled her role. These sections of the novel give us insight into real heroism and the part played by the SOE and by ordinary French men and women in securing their land once more.

As always when I read novels like this, I am so grateful not to have known such a time and wonder, if tested to the extremes as they were, would I have succeeded or failed? Who knows what inner strengths we have and what resilience, when we have never had to prove it.

The narrative is a bit slow to start but it’s well worth sticking with it. Constance’s story is both riveting and moving and the pace quickens up significantly. Although essentially plot driven, the characters are more than two-dimensional and the reader feels both their joy and their pain. Riley teases us with possibilities of Sebastian’s true identity which is only revealed at the end and, after many twists and turns, well, it’s all’s well that ends well, as they say.


The Light Behind the Window is published by Pan