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The third in the series of Lady Ashton’s mysteries, A Fatal Waltz is a sub par plot set against a beautifully crafted window to Victorian England and the ever glamorous Vienna. 

It begins much like Gossford Park, or any other pastoral British murder mystery – a group has gathered together for a weekend of amusements at a large country estate. The host, Lord Fortescue, is a man of power and ugly, masoginistic opinions. Lucky for us (and the heroine, Lady Emily Ashton), he is killed – shot with a dueling pistol. An innocent man, Robert Brandon, husband to her dear friend Ivy and protégé to the deceased, is arrested, soon to be executed.

Never to fear, Lady Ashton is on the case. Having twice before solved a mystery (including that of her husband’s death), with her new fiancé, Colin Hargreaves, by her side, nothing can stop our intrepid investigative force from uncovering the truth behind Lord Fortescue’s murder.

Hargreaves is a man of mystery, a spy for the crown. In her effort to free Mr. Brandon, she ends up in the very town that Colin has been sent to – Vienna. Alexander shows us an enchanting city, filled with philosophers and artists (the incomparable Klimt is there), and a dark obsession with suicides.

Despite villainous enemies, multiple death threats (and one close call), a stunning ex-lover of Colin’s, anarchists and the bitter Christmastime cold, Lady Ashton uncovers the truth not only about Lord Fortesque’s murder but of a plot to begin a war between Germany and England.

It is in the description of Vienna that Alexander’s talent begins to show. From the coffeehouses to the palace itself, the character of Vienna is the most vibrant in the book. Alexander is clearly taken with the city, and in seeing it through her eyes (and pen), one can easily understand why. It has its own spirit and a more defined sense of self than any other character in the novel. From the attitudes of the inhabitants to the juxtaposition of the grandeur of the palace and the slums, the city very much inhibits the feel of a place where new ideas and old institutions collide. It isn’t the only charming clash of the Viennese; the macabre fascination with suicide clashes spectacularly with the innocent air of the snowy holidays. If Vienna were a cake, Christmastime would be the icing.

The mystery itself is a bit of a let down. One can almost call whodunit by paying attention to which characters get ignored the most – a time honored tradition. The actual murderer was on my shortlist of suspects the whole way through the novel, and as time passed and this person fell further and further from view, it became painfully obvious that one should be paying more attention to that specific character. That said, it takes a good hundred and eighty pages for Lady Ashton to stumble upon the information that points the finger in the murderer’s direction. Another thing that makes the villain obvious is Alexander’s tendancy to repeat information that could serve as a red herring (of course, she also repeats the joke that so-and-so claims their house is on par with Versailles, but size makes that impossible. It was a bad joke the first time around, and the second time it was just annoying). One wonders whether Alexander realized that she was repeating information, or if she thought her audience would need a quick reminder. Either way, someone should have told her it was obnoxious.

The character of Lady Ashton was a bit flat, as was that of her fiancé, Colin, and the Countess Von Lange, Colin’s old mistress. The other side characters were far more interesting – specifically Jeremy Sheffield (the Duke of Bainbridge, among a list of other titles). Jeremy’s subplot made him far more interesting than Colin, which was a shame. Perhaps those characters are more fleshed out in the first two novels, though the book is written in such a way that it can be read without the aid of the first two.

All in all, the book was a little dull (especially through the first thirty pages) and mostly unimpressive, though it did have its moments. Sadly, those moments were not a relation to the main plot (or even the grossly oversized subplot).

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