Cross My Palm

‘You must cross my palm with silver first, my pretty miss.’
1860s, London. The capital’s high society ladies like nothing more than to while away an evening at a private supper party, drinking sweet wine, sharing confidences u and having their fortunes read. But palm-reading is a perilous business: the lines of the left hand can unlock secrets and reveal futures best left buried.
When fortune-teller Miss Rose is called to entertain Lady Quayle and her guests at Portland Place, she sees in the palm of shy, cautious Emily a future she is forced to keep to herself. ‘A quiet life, my dear’ is what she tells the girl. But she spies two little crosses that spell something quite different u fearful, violent death. As Rose’s predictions start coming true, her own fortunes become embroiled in the suspect fates of others and the future suddenly seems a dark and dangerous place.
With a plucky heroine and a rollicking story, Sara Stockbridge’s second novel is a cauldron of subterfuge and mysticism.