Another enjoyable read from Laura Shepherd-Robinson. This concentrates on the story of conman William Devereux who makes his mark on wealthy widows before running off with their money. Has he met his match in Hannah Cole though? She is recently widowed and now running her confectionery shop, The Punchbowl and Pineapple alone. Real life novelist Henry Fielding is portrayed in his role as Magistrate of London, and in his endeavours to set up a police force, he is determined to catch the killer of Mrs Cole’s late husband who was found washed up in the Thames and brutally murdered.

One of Hannah’s early conversations with William leads her business down a new route of iced cream – a fascinating detail of the story and well placed in a historical context.

The story itself has plenty of spills and thrills, and justice keeps moving between the characters. I really appreciated the historical notes at the end, which really place the story and its details in a real-life context.

Set in London in 1749 this is Hannah Cole’s story. Following the murder of her husband she is running their confectionery shop, the Punchbowl and Pineapple, and the business isn’t doing well, a woman running a business was not an acceptable situation at this time. To make matters worse, the Chief Magistrate of Westminster, Henry Fielding, has blocked her access to the monies left by her husband as he believes they were illegally obtained. Told from the POV’s of Hannah and William Devereaux, a business acquaintance of her husband, this is a fun and fascinating read.

Briefly, at her wits end, when Devereaux tells her of an iced confection that his mother made in Italy, Hannah grabs this lifeline. The ice cream is a massive success and the business is making profit again. However, Fielding is relentless in his pursuit of the truth and both Hannah and Devereaux are in his sights.

The descriptions of Georgian London are immersive, I could see and feel the sights and sounds and conjure the atmosphere in my head, and almost taste the unusual ice cream flavours, although I’ve taken an executive decision and I’ll pass on the Parmesan flavoured ice cream! There are some good twists in this historical thriller novel and it was indeed a most entertaining read.

The Art of a Lie is a brilliant, twisty historical thriller that kept me hooked from start to finish. Laura Shepherd-Robinson has once again created a world full of secrets, danger, and moral ambiguity, and I couldn’t put it down. If you love a story that challenges your assumptions and takes you on a thrilling ride, this one’s for you. Oh, and there’s delicious ice cream in it too!

The Art of a Lie was scrumptious, I enjoyed it so much I ate it in one sitting. Hannah Cole’s husband has recently been killed in a street robbery leaving her in charge of her family confectionery shop but life is difficult for a woman in trade in the eighteenth century. Then Henry Fielding threatens to take money from Hannah’s husbands bank account because he believes it has been obtained illegally and starts sniffing about. Enter William Devereux a previously unknown friend of her husband who has looks, charm, cash and recipes for ice cream too good to be true right? This was great, it’s a two hander, trading off the narrative between Hannah and William and it works so well. Hannah is an honest woman struggling with lies and William is a liar struggling with being honest they are a match made in heaven. It rattles along a fast pace and I kept having to remind myself that these people are terrible but I loved them anyway and was genuinely shocked at the end. I will never look at ice cream the same way again.

Laura Shepherd-Robinson's "The Art of a Lie" is a superbly written historical thriller that drops readers into the bright but dangerous world of 18th-century London. After the suspicious death of her husband, confectioner Hannah Cole battles to protect her business and reputation from destruction. Her battle is made more difficult by the devious William Devereux, who offers assistance but appears to have his own motive, and the powerful magistrate Henry Fielding, who suspects Hannah herself.

The novel is at its best in its dual narrative, presenting opposing views that create suspense and emphasize the dominant theme of deception. The careful research of the author is evident in every aspect, from the fine points of Georgian society and the early police force to intriguing bits of information about the history of iced cream. "The Art of a Lie" is an engrossing, twisty mystery, with historical veracity combined with a compelling plot that will intrigue readers until the last page.

I don't think Laura Sherperd- Robinson can write a boring or bad novel. Her stories are always well done, well researched and the storytelling is excellent.
Another strong woman who must fight to get what is hers and be respected.
Loved it
Highly recommended.
Many thanks to the publisher for this ARC, all opinions are mine

A bit of a slow start and middle but I really liked the ending.

Some interesting ideas about Georgian London. I particularly enjoyed the descriptions of iced cream. I learnt women could own property at the time and what half-mourning is: wearing purple or grey.

I liked the structure - written from three perspectives: Hannah, Billy and Henry Fielding, to create a conflict between a widow, the man who wishes to exploit her and the justice system.

Thank you to NetGalley for providing me with an ARC.

A smart, layered historical mystery full of intrigue and deception. Laura Shepherd-Robinson weaves a compelling tale where every lie has weight, and the truth is never simple. The characters are richly drawn and well-rounded, especially the conflicted lead character. There was a small luil of pace in the middle, but overall a gripping and intelligent read. Perfect for fans of historical thrillers with moral complexity.

Anyone who’s read any of Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s previous books (and if you haven’t, why not?) will know she’s an author who has perfected the art of the surprise. She delivers several in bravura style in The Art of a Lie. It’s impossible to say more for fear of spoilers but, safe to say, not everything is what it seems and not everyone is what they seem.

This is a book that is plotted with the precision of a Swiss watch with numerous twists and turns, and a delicious sense of jeopardy that keeps you turning the pages. The two main characters, widow Hannah Cole and charming businessman William Devereux, each get their turn to tell their side of the story, the latter in brilliantly colourful fashion. But the whole book is peopled with eccentric characters: some lovable, some amusing and some completely terrifying. It also features actual historical figures.

Chief of these is Henry Fielding who, besides being an author, was, I was fascinated to learn, Chief Magistrate of Westminster and eventually responsible for the establishment of the professional police force initially known as the Bow Street Runners. In the hands of the author, Fielding is a doggedly relentless investigator who is determined to get to the bottom of the murder of Jonas Cole, carefully piecing together fragments of evidence and interviewing witnesses. It’s not an easy task in a world where corruption is rife even – or perhaps, especially – amongst those holding public office. It seems that everyone’s on the take or has something to hide.

The author brilliantly conjures up the atmosphere of Georgian London: the seedy taverns, the opulent gaming houses and vast pleasure gardens. The gulf between the rich and poor is wide, with the destitute forced to sell themselves or beg in the street, whilst the nobility swap the latest gossip or seek out the next sensation, such as Hannah Cole’s revolutionary ‘iced cream’. Ah yes, the ‘iced cream’, one of the delights of the book. I was fascinated by the descriptions of the intricacies involved in its production and amazed by the variety of flavours and combinations of flavours. I might pass on the parmesan flavoured one though.

The Art of Lie is an enthralling battle of wits in which it remains unclear who will come out on top until the very end. If I’m honest, I’d have liked a different ending but I guess you have to expect to get your just desserts.

(Once you’ve finished the book – but not before! – do take the time to read the Historical Note because it contains fascinating background detail.)

Only one word can describe Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s historical thriller set around a sweet shop in eighteenth century London – delicious. Like many a modern TV show, Shepherd-Robinson burns through twists and reveals that possibly in the past might have been the whole point of the narrative. And she does it through a pair of delightful characters neither of which are afraid to manipulate those around them to get their own way.
The Art of a Lie opens with sweet shop owner Hannah Cole, struggling to keep the shop going following the mysterious death of her husband. It turns out that Hannah’s husband had a large amount of money that Hannah did not know about and she stands to inherit a third of that money. Except that the new Chief Magistrate Henry Fielding (based on the real character who also wrote the novel Tom Jones) suspects that the money was gained illegally and is looking to take it for himself for the establishment of his police force. Enter William Devereux, a friend of Hannah’s husband who seems to want to help her but also maybe catch her eye romantically.
It is hard to talk about any more of this novel without giving away some of its jaw-dropping reverses. Safe to say that it is pretty clear from the jump that William, Hannah’s knight in shining armour, is not all that he seems. But Hannah is also not as helpless as the face she presents to the world. And the pressure that builds on both of them is complicated by mutual attraction.
In amongst the shenanigans, Shepherd-Robinson gives an great view of different parts of London on the 1750s. From the pleasure grounds to the dingy pubs, to the tables of high society. In particular are her descriptions of the various products of Hannah’s sweet shop, and Hannah’s role in the popularisation of ice cream, which became a legitimate place for men and women of different social strata to mingle as they ate. There is plenty more detail of all of this in a lengthy Historical Note.
The Art of a Lie is the full package – engaging if fairly amoral main characters, a fun range of side characters, fascinating historical detail and a slippery plot that keeps twisting all the way to the conclusion.

Thoroughly enjoyed this story. Lies after lies! Just when I thought I knew what was happening, Hannah or William were one step ahead of me! Captivating story of murder, deception, love and lust.

I absolutely loved the cover on this, it was definitely what drew me in to request it. And I’m so glad I did! A really gripping tale that hooks readers right from the beginning

Hannah is running a sweet store in Georgian London following the murder of her husband. She has two visitors: one is William Devereux, the other is Henry Fielding. William Devereux is a handsome man who tells us that her husband had invested money with him and that Hannah has some money due to her, Henry Fielding is based on the real Fielding who wrote Tom Jones and he is there to investigate her husband’s murder. The book is incredibly well researched as attested to by the historical note at the end (but don’t read that early as it has spoilers) and the character of Fielding is well drawn. Who is employing the art of a lie? About what? It is impossible to say more without giving away part of the story. I enjoyed this and it moved at a quick pace but I do often like to have someone to root for and of the characters here are morally dubious. This makes it a good story but less enjoyable for me personally. Thanks to Netgalley for an ARC.

Hannah Cole runs a confectioners shop in the heart of up and coming Mayfair. Her husband has recently been found dead and Hannah finds out that he had a large sum of money in the bank, one third of which will come to her and it will clear all her debts. Handsome William Devereux appears, claiming to be a friend of her husband, and promising to help her. However, neither are what they seem and a game of seduction, deceit and betrayal follows.
I have read and loved all of Shepherd-Robinson's books to date and this is quite probably the best. It is a game of cat and mouse played out in Regency London with high stakes and the idea of having the two protagonists narrate in turn really works as the reader becomes invested in the characters. The sense of time and place is beautifully imagined and the characters are drawn very well, it's just a real masterpiece of historical crime writing

I’ve enjoyed all of Laura Shepherd-Robinson’s previous books, particularly The Square of Sevens, so this is one of the new releases I’ve been most looking forward to reading this year. It has many of the same elements as her others – an 18th century setting, a mystery to be solved, lots of surprising plot twists and characters who are not quite as they seem! This one also features ice cream, which makes it a perfect summer read.

The Art of a Lie opens in London in 1749 and the first section is narrated by Hannah Cole, whose husband Jonas was found dead in the street several months earlier, seemingly the victim of a robbery. Since his death, Hannah has continued running their business, a confectionery shop known as the Punchbowl and Pineapple, but is struggling financially. A visit from the magistrate, Henry Fielding – who is also the author of the recently published Tom Jones – brings her some welcome news: Jonas had a large sum of money in his bank account that she knew nothing about. Unfortunately, her excitement is short-lived because Fielding also tells her that he suspects the money was acquired illicitly and that Jonas was probably not just the victim of a random attack as first thought, but was murdered by someone he knew.

A second way of improving her financial position soon presents itself to Hannah when a gentleman enters the Punchbowl and Pineapple and introduces himself as William Devereux, a friend of her late husband’s. William gives Hannah a recipe for ‘iced cream’, a frozen dessert made by his mother, who was raised in Italy. Despite some initial problems – freezing cream without the aid of an electric freezer is not an easy task – the new treat proves a big success. And soon William is helping her to solve a bigger problem – the question of who killed Jonas Cole and where the money in his bank came from.

The perspective switches between Hannah and William several times throughout the novel, with each narrator being given a distinctive narrative voice of their own. I felt a stronger connection with Hannah, but seeing things from William’s point of view provides a whole different side to the story. It quickly becomes clear to the reader that neither one of them is being completely honest with the other (or with anyone else) and that, as the title suggests, this really is a novel about the art of telling lies! It was fascinating to follow both of their narratives, wondering who was going to come out on top. The ending of the book wasn’t really what I’d expected and although I would have preferred the ending I had expected, it was good to be taken by surprise!

I loved the setting of the book, particularly the descriptions of Hannah’s shop and all the cakes, chocolates and sweets she sells. I enjoyed reading about her experiments with different varieties of ice cream (don’t miss the author’s note at the end of the book, which has some factual information about the history of ice cream in the UK). The inclusion of Henry Fielding as a character in the book was also interesting – he really was Chief Magistrate of Westminster at the time the story is set and was the founder of the Bow Street Runners, London’s first police force.

The Square of Sevens is still my favourite Laura Shepherd-Robinson book, but I think it’s just a matter of personal taste and I’m sure some readers will like this one better. It reminded me very much of The Queen of Fives by Alex Hay and I think if you enjoyed that one you’ll probably enjoy this one as well.

Eeek! Oh how I loved this. From start to finish this is a stunningly accomplished piece of writing, a compelling character study, and a rip-roaring plot that will have you hooked throughout. I cannot praise this book enough.

I have loved every one of Laura Shepherd-Robinson's novels and I will continue to pick up every single thing she writes with glee. Her latest novel is no exception; I was swept along right from the very first page, taken back to Georgian London, sampling their wares, revelling in the luxury, and wading through the grime, and relishing every moment. The characters are what really makes this one shine though; there are layers upon layers, these are some of the most complex and whole characters I've had the joy to meet, and you will both love and loathe them in equal measure.

This is a cat and mouse plot that will have you turning the pages late into the night, that will have you choosing sides, and willing your champion on to the very last page. With a truly satisfying conclusion this is an absolute must for historical crime fans. PLEASE PICK THIS UP! I can't say it loud enough. I promise you this is worth every second you'll spend within these pages. An absolutely brilliant book, and one I can't stop thinking about.

I adored The Art of a Lie. I found myself utterly swept along with the beautiful prose, the brilliant dialogue, and the fantastic settings of Georgian London. Set in July 1749, this glorious novel opens with Hannah Cole’s husband, Jonas, killed in what Hannah says was a mugging gone wrong. Hannah has been running The Punchbowl and Pineapple—her gilt‑lettered Piccadilly confectionery shop for a long time. But after Jonas’ murder, she finds that a widow has less purchase with her suppliers than Jonas’ mere existence could command. She struggles to keep her business afloat, and because probate on Jonas’s will is held up due to a suspicious magistrate, Henry Fielding, it is a very real struggle. I could feel Hannah’s pain at the threat from sour suppliers, the stinging prejudice towards a woman in trade, the flicker of hope at discovering Jonas’s hidden hoard, and the surprise when Jonas’ banker friend William Devereux tells her about his Italian mother’s iced cream—a confection so novel she believes it could rescue her business.

Hannah herself is beautifully drawn. She’s as layered as her refined desserts: resilient yet vulnerable, principled yet hiding secrets. Shepherd‑Robinson’s research leaps off the page in Hannah’s inner monologue. Whether describing boiling sugar, porcelain bowls, or perfected ice-churn technique, each detail displays the author’s depth of knowledge; so much so that I yearned to taste the exotically flavoured iced creams. It’s this meticulous grounding that makes the Georgian streets and parlours thrum with life.

Jonas remains an intriguing ghost in Hannah’s life. Though dead, revelations about his secret hoard-and whispers of duplicity-reverberate in his wife’s mind. Their relationship, revealed mostly through Hannah’s memories, begins with love and shifts into hurt and bewilderment; she was his wife, but he had hidden dealings that she knew nothing of.

Then we meet Jonas’s friend, investment banker William Devereux. He is an ally to Hannah, helping her with his business sense, bringing some of Jonas’s investment returns to her, and when he talks of his mother’s ice cream, Hannah grows excited as she can see its potential. But Devereux’s chapters, narrated in first person, peel back layer after layer: part friend, part mystery man. Only by hearing his thoughts do we realise that behind the charm lies a calculating mind. Hannah and William are both unreliable narrators, and their interchanges draw us into a psychological chess match where loyalties are slippery and motives opaque.

Henry Fielding, the real historical figure who transitioned from literary fame to magistrate, is searching for Jonas’s murderer and the source of his hoard. Shepherd‑Robinson weaves him in as a large, looming presence—intellectual, observant, and methodical, though somewhat less upright when it comes to his morals. His suspicion of Hannah’s newfound wealth and his investigations add another layer of skulduggery. It’s not only Hannah’s business and her friendship with William at stake, but the looming threat of criminal peril. Fielding’s presence amplifies the stakes and enhances the novel’s historical realism

The pace is taut. London—slum gutters, grand façades, a glittering gelaterie—is a very real and sometimes sumptuous place. Woven into the plotting are the low-life villains and high-society whispers; every alleyway could hold a thug, every drawing-room a gossip. Dialogues snap with wit and tension, while the occasional quiet monologue softens the pace with internal reflection. Plot twists arrive like sugar rushes—deliciously unexpected and impossible to forget.

What I love most is how Laura Shepherd‑Robinson uses dual perspectives to shift reader alignment and trust. You feel Hannah’s heartbreak and determination, but through William’s voice, you catch the undercurrents she can’t see. By the time their friendship solidifies, it’s both thrilling and unnerving. Is it love? Is it an alliance? Or is it a strategic partnership in a game neither can fully win?

The historical research—especially into sugar, women in trade, legal norms, and iced cream—is woven so seamlessly you barely notice you’re learning as you devour the story. Yet it never stops the narrative wheels; instead, it polishes them, giving them firm, real-world traction.

Verdict: The Art of a Lie is a feast of atmosphere, intrigue, and emotional complexity. I loved the character of Hannah Cole. William Devereux is charming and unsettling. Henry Fielding adds historical weight and moral ambiguity. And behind it all, Shepherd‑Robinson’s prose glides like spun sugar—sweet and sharp, delicate yet all-consuming. If you love crime fiction wrapped in meticulous historical detail, with a duel of wits at its centre, this novel is a banquet you won’t want to leave. I’ve loved all of Laura’s books, but I adore this one.

It’s 1749, and Hannah Cole’s husband has died. She needs to ensure their Piccadilly confectionary shop, the Punchbowl and Pineapple, remains profitable. Enter William Devereux, who reminisces of a treat known as ‘iced cream’. Could this be the saving of Hannah’s shop? Or does Devereux’s interest in her fate have an ulterior motive?

Laura Shepherd-Robinson is at the top of her game. I thoroughly enjoyed her previous novel, ‘The Square of Sevens’, but ‘The Art of a Lie’ is simply superb.

The characters are bold, complex and memorable and Shepherd-Robinson makes the reader question repeatedly whether each one is likeable or trustworthy. She doesn’t stop toying with the reader even up to the very last page, throwing twists into the tale like literary hand grenades. The cat-and-mouse plot is entirely delicious, much like the descriptions of the contents of Hannah’s shop!

Shepherd-Robinson is also fantastic at setting a scene and the entire novel is so easily envisaged, from Hannah’s shop to the back streets of London, to the city’s parks and the homes of the aristocracy. As ever, I love a historical note from the author and was not disappointed. The research that has gone into the book is clear and brings the story to life.

A brilliant book that I haven’t stopped thinking about since I finished it.

Huge thanks to the publisher and to NetGalley for the advance copy of ‘The Art of a Lie’ on which this review is based.

Set in London, 1749, this gripping historical tale follows Hannah Cole, a determined woman grappling with the aftermath of her husband’s brutal murder during a street robbery. Left to manage their struggling confectionery shop, The Punchbowl and Pineapple on Piccadilly, Hannah finds herself battling financial hardship and unscrupulous suppliers intent on driving her out of business.

Her fortunes appear to shift when she discovers a hidden bank account belonging to her late husband, containing a substantial and previously unknown sum. The arrival of William Devereux, a friend of her husband, introduces her to a novel Italian treat—“iced cream”—which she hopes will revive her shop’s prospects.

However, the unexpected inheritance draws the attention of Henry Fielding, a former author turned magistrate, who suspects the money may have been obtained through illicit means. With the threat of confiscation looming, Hannah must prove the legitimacy of her claim. As she and Devereux delve into the secrets of her husband’s past, their growing alliance sparks gossip and scrutiny, pulling Hannah into a dangerous game of deception and discovery—one that could prove even more perilous than the crime that started it all.

This is an immaculately researched book that places the reader in the heart of Georgian London. By carefully interweaving the viewpoints of both Hannah and William, the author keeps the reader guessing until the final page.

If not quite at the level of Shepherd-Robinson’s previous book, Square of Sevens, for me, this is a worthy read nonetheless. Recommended.
Thank you to NetGalley and the publishers, Mantle, for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

In recent years I had become a huge fan of Laura Shepherd-Robinson, and of course I was eagerly waiting for her latest novel. And it did not disappoint.

The story in The Art of a Lie is told from two POVs – we have Hannah Cole, the owner of a confectionery shop, whose husband was found dead due to a robbery gone wrong. He only left behind debts, so Hannah is doing her best to keep her family’s business going. And we have William Deveroux, a friend of late Mr. Cole who takes a liking to Hannah and inspires her to find out the secret to ice cream, making it an instant hit with London’s society.

But as it happens when you are reading a Shepherd-Robinson novel, nothing is quite as it seems. I’m not going to spoil any of the plot, but you are in for a ride. I loved how we learned about both Hannah’s and William’s secrets pretty early on, while they had no idea about the other’s, which made it so much more fun to read. With every piece of puzzle put in its place, I kept turning the pages so I could find out how things would play out in the end. Disaster was bound to happen and it did magnificently. Although I probably shouldn’t say that about other people’s tragedies. Still, I marveled at how Shepherd-Robinson wove the plot together, making every character coming alive on the pages.

But not just the characters, London too. I always find historical fiction fascinating because of the little details, reading about places I know now. About some customs and inventions that feel so out of place now. Today it seems funny how people revered pineapples to the point it was a mark of luxury. And ice cream! If you want to know more about the receipt mentioned in the book, I’d like to point you to Laura Shepherd-Robinson‘s BlueSky thread about her experiment with it!

I know I didn’t talk about the book as much as I usually do, but this is one of those occasions where I think the less you know the better you will savour it. It doesn’t happen that often that I do nothing but sing praises of a book in a review, but I can’t help myself. The Art of a Lie is just another delightful masterpiece that deserves all the praise it can get. It’s going to be hard to push this one down from the top of my favorite books of 2025.