Black Is the Colour of My True Love's Heart

When a weekend folk music retreat brings singers and scholars together at the grand country house called Follymead, the mood should be nothing more than convivial. But old wounds and unfinished business have a way of traveling with people, and when one performer turns a traditional ballad into something that feels less like a song and more like an accusation, the atmosphere shifts. Ellis Peters understands that enclosed communities — however cultured and well-intentioned — are perfect pressure cookers for the feelings people spend their ordinary lives suppressing.

What makes this novel worth your time is Peters at her character-driven best. The Felse family mysteries have always been warmer and more psychologically textured than the average crime novel, and this installment is no exception. Peters builds tension not through shock but through accumulation — a glance, a lyric, a silence held a beat too long. The folk music setting is more than atmosphere; it shapes the story's emotional logic, lending the whole narrative the quality of an old ballad: beautiful, melancholy, and quietly ruthless.