The greatest tragedy of this book has to do with the parallel story lines. In a not uncommon phenomenon, one of the plot lines far outpaces the other. The historical story in Europe is so vastly superior to the modern story in New England in character, plot, and tone.

The historic story is much more compelling and the characters are rich. The love story is more intense and is tinged with the tragedy and tumult that made it actually interesting.

The story with Mallory and Monk Adams was a handful of clichéd romance plots held together with the glue of a half-unknown love child with a medical condition.

I also felt like half the characters in the Mallory storyline were eye rolling clichés; the flamboyant college friend who’s also a jewelry expert, the ‘homey simple folk’ cook, and the conniving fiancée using Monk for clout.

I’m sure that this book is for someone. If it had only the parts in Egypt and Hungary I would have rated it much higher. As it is now, it’s not for me.