In British historical fiction, the most exciting action typically occurs in one of three places: the scullery, the orphanage, or the industrial factory. Recent Vicky Metcalf Award-winner Marthe Jocelyn skilfully employs the first two settings in her new novel about love and loss in Victorian London.

Mary Finn’s mother has died in childbirth and her father has found a loathsome replacement. When the evil stepmother sends her away to work as a servant, 15-year-old Manny begins a fateful romance with a young soldier and an unintentional rivalry with a fellow maid. A seemingly unrelated tale of an orphan named James blossoms alongside that of Mary, though both of the novel’s threads contain the kind of Upstairs, Downstairs-like scandal so common in domestic portrayals of late 19th-century England.

In the midst of the story’s fanny-pinching, deflowering, and despair, however, a well-crafted, meaningful mystery emerges. The revelation of how Mary and James are connected is perfectly plotted. The point of view shifts with the start of each new chapter, and because each one is no longer than a few pages, the pace is enjoyably brisk. Despite the near-constant shifts in perspective, Jocelyn keeps the action firmly in focus, and the relatively large cast of characters is easy to navigate. Those looking for an intricate treatise on London’s working class should look elsewhere, as Folly is an engaging drama first, a history lesson second. While 1880s London is painted with some detail, the emphasis is on story rather than scenery.

Folly is the ideal selection for readers not quite ready for the high page count or salaciousness of, say, a Philippa Gregory novel. With its refreshingly robust pace, suspenseful plot, and sprinklings of innuendo, teen girls with a penchant for historical fiction will flock to Folly.