Hector Graeme

A lieutenant in Her Majesty's Lancers arrives at a country estate for a partridge shoot, armed with nothing but swagger and a sharp shooting kit. Hector Graeme is exactly the kind of young officer you'd want beside you in a cavalry charge and exactly the kind of man you'd want to slap at a dinner party. His arrogance is magnificent, almost endearing in its bluster, until the damp November chill settles in and the lonely English countryside begins to work on him. Lucy Caldwell, sharp-tongued and unimpressed, sees through his performance immediately. What begins as playful sparring over game birds becomes something more dangerous: confession, vulnerability, the terrifying prospect of being known. The novel captures a particular Edwardian anxiety, that strange suspension between empire's peak and the war that would end everything. Here is a man learning that courage on horseback means nothing if you cannot be honest in a drawing room. Romance, class, ambition, and the quiet violence of self-examination unfold against a landscape so atmospheric you can smell the wet earth.