Sophia Bennett - Unveiling Venus

A vivid portrait of Pre-Raphaelite glamour and the perils of beauty, desire and independence.
Anna McKerrow, author of Crow Moon

Love love LOVED Following Ophelia. Brilliantly done.
Catherine Johnson, author of The Curious Tale of the Lady Caraboo

Sophia has conjured up a world as alive with colour and texture and beauty and rebellion as the paintings that she references.
Perdita Cargill, author of Waiting for Callback

A dreamy, romantic novel about a young woman becoming embroiled in the Pre-Raphaelite art scene Im very happy to learn that this is the first in the series, as theres so much more I want to know and see through Marys eyes.
Melinda Salisbury, author of The Sin Eaters Daughter

This is Bennetts first historical fiction title, and she does a wonderful job with the glamour, scandal and dresses of the period.
Fiona Noble, The Bookseller

The pomp. The flair. The excess. The detail. Nothing was missed and it made for such an enthralling read. Behind on Books

Following Ophelia paints a vivid tapestry of the world of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood (Mary) holds her own in a new and intimidating world of flamboyant, talented men brilliantly I cant wait for the next book in this series!
Lauren James, author of The Next Together

Atmospheric and evocative Following Ophelia by @sophiabennett has all the right ingredients and leaves you wanting more.
Rhian Ivory, author of The Boy Who Drew the Future

In a story filled with glamour and excitement, Bennett paints her own portrait of 1850s London, its fusty interiors and filthy streets, describing Victorian clothes her own passion in particularly wonderful detail.
Andrea Reece, LoveReading4Kids

Sophia Bennetts familiar tone means that this would be a fantastic start for fans of contemporary who are looking to try something new. The writing is beautiful and slightly decadent, rich with research and passion. Tea Party Princess

Adored it. Beautifully written, evocative and gripping. (And I want more.)
Keris Stainton, author of Starring Kitty

My dearest Persephone,

Oh, how you must curse me, and how sorry I am! I havent written to you in an age. All I can say is I have been so busy! And I have much news. More of which in a minute

But meanwhile Ive heard so much about you. Even here in St Petersburg (yes, thats where Mama has brought me) news travels, if it is worth travelling. And now it is all news of magnificent Persephone Lavelle of Mayfair, who is much admired and is sitting for Millais himself, I hear. Is that really true?

You must be wondering why Im in Russia. Mama and Papa brought me here to meet a young gentleman they have been in contact with for a while. Indeed, I used to know him as a child. His name is Lord Arthur Malmesbury and he is very grand. His father is a duke (!!) but I always thought of little Arthur as my partner in crime when Iwasa girl in pinafores. How strange to think that now he is twenty-three, a diplomat flitting about Europe for the Queen, and eminently dashing.

Have you guessed? Mama and Papa were hoping that I would like grown-up Arthur, and that he would like me too. He has heard all about me. Much of it good, apparently, because, dear M Persephone, he wants to marry me! And he is so enchanting. Of course, I hardly ever get to see him here in Russia because Mama will not go out in the snow, and I must wait until he calls on us and then it is only for half an hour each day But half an hour is enough, because he is as handsome as Prince Albert in his youth, and charming and courteous and oh, I mustnt bore you. But I am so happy. And I have told him all about you. He loves the sound of your adventures as much as I do (isnt he a delight?) and he cant wait to meet you.

Soon we depart for Venice, where dear Arthur (may I call him dear yet? I think I shall anyway!) has a mission for the Prime Minister, and has invited us all to come too. How I long for you to join me there! Oh, the larks we could have! Think how much more enjoyable your company would be than that of dear old Aunt Violet, or Mama, who gets seasick and wont even ride in a gondola! If only you werent so busy in London I would positively insist that you come.

Be happy for me, Persephone. As I am for you.

bientt. I kiss the paper and send fond wishes.

Your loving

Kitty

Mary risked wearing out the soles of her silk slippers as she paced the carpet of her drawing room, reading Kittys letter for the hundredth time. Since it arrived over a month ago she had opened it so often that she had worn holes in the folds. Daylight shone through, underlining certain phrases.

dear M Persephone, he wants to marry me!

How I long for you to join me there!

The crossed-out M was telling. When they first met in the spring, she was Mary Adams, scullery maid. But with Kitty Ballards help, Mary had transformed herself into Persephone Lavelle, the newest, brightest Pre-Raphaelite artists muse and the talk of London. Still, Kitty had not heard all Marys news. As autumn turned to winter, London had become a place Mary was desperate to escape.

The city contained Felix Dawson, the only man she really wanted to be with. But thanks to a dark bargain she had made, he was the one man she must never see again. Saved by a young admirer called Rupert Thornton she was now, at seventeen, a kept woman with a rich protector, a wardrobe of fine silks and a broken heart.

Though she had lived there less than a year, London was full of shallow gossip and memories that chafed like grazes on her skin. By contrast, Venice glistened exotically in Marys imagination. She had written back instantly, offering to visit Kitty as soon as she could. But that had been in November and now Christmas was approaching. Kitty must have received her note ages ago but still there was no reply.

Mary retrieved the letter from its hiding place each morning. Last summer Kitty had been her fondest companion, the society girl who enjoyed the company of an artists model. Then Marys life had unravelled. Professor Aitken and his wife, for whom she worked as a scullery maid in Pimlico, had discovered her secret artistic assignations and sacked her on the spot. With nowhere else to go she had been taken in, against all propriety, by Rupert. And Kitty had gone silent. After weeks without contact, Mary had assumed the worst. What well-brought-up, rich Mayfair girl would stay loyal to such an outrageous creature? But the letter had made it clear Kitty was loyal, and merely busy with her own love story. Mary had been wrong ever to doubt her.

So, Kitty was to marry a duke? Or at least the son of one. Was he the eldest? She didnt say. Dear, sweet Kitty who was caught up so much in the romance that she neglected to mention whether or not she was set to become a duchess one day.

Mary was so lost in her thoughts that she didnt hear footsteps on the stairs. The sudden knock at the apartment door startled her. She was about to slide the letter back in its usual spot between the pages of a book of Shakespeare plays when her housekeeper appeared.

Mr OBryan, maam.

Mary relaxed. She had no secrets from Eddie OBryan. His big sister Annie had been her fellow maid in Pimlico. Despite the fact that he had once tried to blackmail her, he was now her favourite visitor. A lady, she reflected, did not receive young gentlemen unaccompanied. But Persephone Lavelle was no lady and had no reputation to defend. She may as well take advantage of it.