The description of this book had such promise and I truly wanted to like it: a murder mystery involving a 19th C woman studying medicine in Edinburgh, Scotland. I enjoy Victoriana, I'm interested in medicine, and I like a good mystery. But awkward plotting and fuzzy characterization got in the way. We are a third of the way through the book before hints about main character Sarah Gilchrist's past finally take shape, and then it's not clear if the actual injustices done to her hurt worse than the unkind sniping of her fellow women medical students. (If this is a "feminist mystery" why in the world are the other women so patently awful?) The mystery itself is VERY slow to develop, and Sarah's impulsive and poorly thought-out efforts to investigate are eye-rolling: barge into a brothel to ask the madam to fund a burial? Accuse a professor of outrageous behavior to his face? Make accusations about another professor to his wife, Sarah's only friend? Venture unaccompanied into opium dens and illicit boxing matches? (The author repeatedly brings up the topic of hysteria in women, but Sarah's actions might actually fit that bill.) Too bad.