Among the many writers of British Victorian canonical literature, perhaps none were as sensational as Mary Elizabeth Braddon, and certainly no book among her more than 70 popular titles has garnered more acclaim than Lady Audley’s Secret. Unlike most heroines of this period, Lady Audley does not sit idly by and hope things will turn out her way. While other women are waiting for the ideal husband to drop into their laps, she actively pursues the future she desires, much to the chagrin of the men who orbit around her loveliness.

British narrator Nicola Barber does a fine job of letting Braddon’s prose largely speak for itself. She has a firm grasp of accents both high and low class when called upon to get into character dialogue, but is otherwise appropriately content to let Braddon’s dreamlike descriptions unfurl across this somewhat unconventional story. Lucy Graham has become Sir Audley’s wife through not entirely ordinary means, possibly including murder. When Audley’s nephew takes it upon himself to investigate, tensions run increasingly highly and the family begins to fall apart.

But what is the precise nature of Lady Audley’s crime? Will she crack under the pressure of the private investigation, or desperately resolve to preserve her marriage by any means necessary? With a narrative chock full of all the circumstantial evidence and blackmail such a dilemma requires, Barber oscillates keenly between the breathless pace of the plot’s revelations and the lush, more subdued tones of 1860s expository prowess. The lady and the setting are equally vivid thanks to Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s serial practice, and Nicola Barber delivers the goods in a solid style that doesn’t intrude on the quality of the writing. Whether your college Brit Lit professor skipped this book, or whether you just haven’t thought of it in years, it’s time to go back and give Lady Audley’s Secret a listen. —Megan Volpert