I liked Annique, though she had me scratching my head. But from the three books I have read so far, they are all cunning, deadly, alluring and super-intelligent. Bourne’s conceptualisation of her female characters. I wouldn’t presume to believe that I have sussed out Ms. And again – finally, finally – things started to make sense. By that time, I was well past the 70% mark. In what order all this had happened, however, was not disclosed until we finally, finally meet the infamous Lord of London’s underworld, Lazarus. The name Lazarus, already mentioned in the two previous books I had read, was dropped here and there in connection with Jess, but Jess also seemed to have spent years in Russia. I didn’t know when the story was taking place. If there was some sort of romantic development between Jess and Sebastian, I didn’t see it, by the way. He was also convinced that Jess’s father was indeed Cinq. He was lusting after Jess Whitby, that’s for sure. All I got in My Lord and Spymaster was a heroine running through the streets (and the rooftops) trying to find proof that her father was not the infamous French spy Cinq, while the hero was…Well, I don’t know what he was. On the contrary, I love it when a story slowly unfolds, but for that to happen I need a few markers.

The book had nearly beaten me with its constant hints and red herrings that weren’t really hints or red herrings. The first half, no strike that, the first 65-70% of the book I was first confused, then irritated and finally downright annoyed and ready to give in. Oh boy, am I glad I started with The Forbidden Rose, seeing that The Spymaster’s Lady was enjoyable but nothing to be too excited about. But there was Hawker’s story I’m still dying to read, and there was the promise of The Forbidden Rose which I loved. Impressive by my standards, as I tend to leave a book be after such a long time. I started with My Lord and Spymaster some time after New Year’s Day and finally managed to finish it only about five weeks later.

My lord and spymaster by joanna bourne