It’s July 1732 and Leeds Constable Richard Nottingham has another murder to solve. Young, beautiful Sarah Godlove has been found stabbed to death, just outside of Leeds at Kirkstall Abbey. Her maid and travelling companion, Anne, is nowhere to be found. A note hidden in a pocket of the victim’s dress leads Nottingham to believe Sarah had been on her way to meet a lover when she was killed. Nottingham discovers that Sarah’s parents, who have title but no money, married her off to a much older land owner who had money but no title. It could have been a nice little arrangement except for the fact that Sarah was in love with someone else.
Nottingham and his deputy, John Sedgwick, are not used to dealing with the gentry outside of town. Luckily, new comer Rob Lister, hailing from a higher class than the other constable’s men, proves to be an asset when he is able to use his connections to the upper class during the investigation. Afraid that he will never be able to solve this case, and with rival crime factions on the brink of a turf war, Nottingham and his men are pushed to the limit.
Nickson gives us an interesting peak into the class differences in 18th century England with his third novel in the Richard Nottingham series. I’ve read and enjoyed them all, and they can be read in order or on their own. If you love historic mysteries, you must give these a try. ( )

The Constant Lovers is very different in tone to the previous two books. While both The Broken Token and Cold Cruel Winter dealt with the often poverty-stricken dwellers of the city, a world that Richard Nottingham knew well and could navigate with ease, this book takes us outside of the city and into the world of the wealthy, landowning country gentlemen. Nottingham is well out of his depth in this world, and knows it, which made for an interesting change. It was fascinating seeing this capable character out of his comfort zone.

This book also saw the introduction of a new character: Rob Lister, the son of the local newspaper publisher, who joins as one of the Constable’s men (replacing Joshua Forester, who left at the end of the last book). Not exactly wealthy, but well-to-do and of a higher social class than the Constable’s deputy John Sedgwick, Rob’s introduction gives the reader the opportunity to see the poverty of city life through his outsider’s perspective. He also serves as a kind of bridge between the commoners that Nottingham and Sedgwick are most used to dealing with, and the gentry that they find themselves having to confront in the course of the book.

I did find this book a little harder to get into than the previous two. As mentioned, it has a much slower pace – especially compared to Cold Cruel Winter, which zipped along. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I did find it less gripping. Once I had got into it though, I really enjoyed the new perspective that this book is told from. It gave the historical Leeds that Chris Nickson evokes a fuller, rounder feeling.

Once again, I really enjoyed the sub-plots involving the interplay and relationships between all the supporting characters. Sedgwick’s slight insecurity following Lister’s arrival is very well played, as is the plotline involving his partner Lizzie, who is expecting a new child. I was also pleased to see that Nottingham’s daughter Emily seemed to have got a bit of her independence back in this book: I said in my review of Cold Cruel Winter that she seemed to have been pushed into the background somewhat, “cured” of her earlier, rebellious ways and recast as the dutiful, docile daughter. It was good to see her brought to the forefront again – I’d love to see a bit more of her in the next book!

A slower, more thoughtful, introspective read than the previous books in the series, this is an excellent read for any fans of historical crime fiction. ( )