This stunningly well-written whodunit took me by surprise.An excerpt:

"'I stared at him, not quite taking in the fact that he had just collapsed at my feet. He lay, curled like a question mark, his evening suit ink-black against the white marble of the floor. He was writhing, his fingers knotted.

I leaned as close to him as my corset would permit. "Edward, we have guests. Do get up. If this is some sort of silly prank--"

"He is not jesting, my lady. He is convulsing."

An impatient figure in black pushed past me to kneel at Edward's side. He busied himself for a few brisk moments, palpating and pulse-taking, while I bobbed a bit, trying to see over his shoulder. Behind me the guests were murmuring, buzzing, pushing closer to get a look of their own. There was a little thrill of excitement in the air. After all, it was not every evening that a baronet collapsed senseless in his own music room. And Edward was proving rather better entertainment than the soprano we had engaged.'"

 This is a book that grabs you from the first. Raybourn's writing manages to entertain and mystify all at once. The chemistry between Julie and Brisbane heat up the pages, but it's all in the imagination...like Bogey and Bacall movies.