The Other Gwyn Girl
Synopsis of The Other Gwyn Girl
1671 – London
The Civil War is over and Charles II, the ‘Merry Monarch’, is revelling in the throne of his murdered father and all the privileges and power that comes with it. Sharing the spoils is his favourite companion, the celebrated beauty, actress Nell Gwyn. Beloved of the English people, Nell has come a long way from selling oranges and a childhood in a brothel, but as her fortunes have turned, her sister Rose has taken a different path. Marriage to a feckless highwayman has left Rose in the grim Marshalsea prison and now she needs her sister’s mercy to help get her out. But Nell needs Rose too. A plot to steal the Crown Jewels has gone tragically wrong, and Nell’s future with her protector King is at risk. If Rose can’t solve the riddle of the jewels both Gwyn sisters will head straight to the Tower.
Present Day
Librarian and history enthusiast Jess Yates has hit rock bottom. With her ex behind bars for fraud, Jess needs to lay low – easier said than done with a celebrity sister. But Tavy has her uses. Her latest TV project involves renovating Fortune Hall, and she needs a house sitter while she’s jetting around the world. The opportunity is too good to miss, especially when Jess discovers that Fortune Hall has links to the infamous Nell Gwyn.
Slowly the house begins to reveal its mysteries, and secrets that have laid buried for centuries can no longer be ignored. Jess hears echoes from a tragic past and as she struggles to understand her sister, Jess feels ever closer to Rose Gwyn, the sister forgotten by history but who had the fate of her family in her hands.
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Reviews of The Other Gwyn Girl
“This novel was such a wild ride from the start and I could not put it down." Heidi Malagisi, Adventures of a Tudor Book Nerd.
"Raise your hand if you realized royal mistress Nell Gwyn had an older sister. If not, you’re not alone. Nicola Cornick has a knack for taking interesting women from history’s sidelines, digging into the limited facts on their lives, and weaving them into compelling dual-narrative plots." Sarah Johnson, HNS
In the seventeenth-century storyline, which was my favourite (unsurprisingly), and Rose makes for a sympathetic heroine with generally poor taste in men. This said, I very much enjoyed the character of Colonel Guy Forster, who is kind and dutiful (and very likeable!). I also loved cameos of famous c17 persons such as Elias Ashmole and Thomas Blood: great fun for a Stuart fan.
By the novel’s end, I was sad to leave these characters, whose stories were artfully and beautifully crafted. I didn’t want the stories to conclude, so much had I become enveloped in a dual-time world only Nicola Cornick could have created. Brava! 17th century Lady
What a spellbinding dual timeline gem! Cindy L Spear
The Other Gwyn Girl is a brilliant insight into the lives of two women who were separated by time but alike in so many ways and how, in the end, love and family are your best weapons. It’s a compelling novel with heartbreaking moments mixed with triumphant ones and tells us that you have the chance to make your own destiny.
Nicola Cornick has once again given us a fantastic historical novel. Can’t wait for what comes next! Novel Kicks
Extract from The Other Gwyn Girl
Taken from Chapter 4
Rose, London, May 1671
On the morning of 7th May, when the robbery was to take place, I was out early with my orange barrow, down on the River Thames by the Tower at seven of the clock. It was a breezy morning with a cold-edged wind coming off the river. I had pushed the fruit cart down the narrow lane that led to the Iron Gate, with the squat bulk of St Katherine’s-by-the-Tower to my left and the close press of tenements to my right, houses whose upper stories over hung the road and shaded out the early spring sunshine. People were already out and about their daily business. Every so often I remembered to call out: “Buy my oranges, four for sixpence!” No one did, though a street urchin attempted to grab one as I passed and I swatted him away like a fly. The oranges were old and rotting; I could not blame any customer for seeking out fresher ones, but I had not wanted to spend much money on something that was mainly for show. They rolled around the wooden barrow as it creaked over the cobbled street.
This plan is madness. It will never work.
How many times had those words echoed around my head over the past few months as Colonel Blood’s plot unfurled? How many times had I hesitated on the verge of telling John I would have nothing to do with it? And then, in March, I had discovered that I was with child again, and had felt both elated and terrified. I needed John now, for if he were to vanish leaving me pregnant, I knew what would be said; I would be shunned and berated for driving away my husband. It was always the woman’s fault.
So here I was and now that the moment had come, I felt a sick dread in the pit of my stomach. I knew that the crown jewels were lightly guarded and Thomas Blood had prepared his ground well, but it was still an utterly foolhardy plot.
The clock on St Catherine’s tower chimed the hour as I turned my little cart onto the wharf, passing the great iron gate that led to the Tower precinct. I saw John immediately; he was acting the part of groom, standing by the water gate, holding a handful of lively nags. That meant that Thomas and his two accomplices were already within the Tower. My heart speeded up. If all went according to plan, they would tie up Talbot Edwards, the keeper of the jewels, make good the robbery and be away before any alarm was raised.
People milled along the edge of the river, which looked innocent and blue in the sunshine, reflecting the little fluffy white clouds that scurried overhead. To my right the huge bastion of the Tower soared with its ramparts fifteen foot thick and dizzyingly high; to my left, boats jostled at anchor. There was a smell of fish mingled with rotting weed from the thick green slime of the river. It caught in my throat, making me turn away from my fellow street-vendors who were selling mackerel and flounders, two for a groat. My role here was simple – to aid Thomas Blood’s escape, if necessary, by creating a diversion, and to help hide the jewels if we needed to conceal them in a hurry. I prayed hard that it would not be necessary to do either.
The day was quiet. I was alive to every sound, every movement, holding my breath, waiting. John loitered, looking bored. He seemed nowhere near as on edge as I.
“Buy my oranges, four for sixpence!” I called.
No one did. I strolled along the wharf, amongst the milling crowds, turned and started back.
“Treason! Murder! The Crown is stolen!”
Even though I was more than half-expecting it, the shout made me jump almost out of my skin. My heart started to race even faster. Heads were turning as the cries drew louder and closer. A buzz arose from the crowd, a murmur that anticipated violence. I heard running footsteps and then a shot. Someone screamed. Men were barrelling through the throngs on the wharf now, roughly pushing people aside, beating a path with their swords and pikestaffs. There were soldiers in their black and red livery, and other men who had joined the fray. Everyone was jostling and shouting. A fight broke out; I heard the thud of a fist making contact with flesh and then the splash as someone fell into the river.
I stood transfixed. There was no requirement to create a distraction. Already there was so much confusion around me that there was nothing I could add to it. A priest ran towards me in cloak and cassock. I realised that it was Thomas Blood.
As he passed my orange barrow, he opened his hand with a lightning-fast flick of the fingers. Something fell from his grasp in a rainbow sparkle of colour and disappeared amongst the oranges. My heart jumped. He gave me a huge wink and then he was past.
END OF EXCERPT