Caroline Parcewell

Quick Facts

• Role: Modern-day protagonist whose investigation bridges past and present
• Age/Nationality: Thirty-four, American; trained historian with a degree in British history
• First Appearance: Modern timeline, London—on what was meant to be a tenth-anniversary trip that becomes a solo journey after her husband’s James Parcewell Betrayal
• Key Relationships: James (husband), Gaynor Baymont (ally at the British Library), historical counterparts and inspirations in Nella Clavinger and Eliza Fanning

Who They Are

A historian at heart who temporarily chose certainty over passion, Caroline begins the novel dressed like an ordinary tourist—“gray sneakers and crossbody tote bag”—but she quickly becomes an investigator, mudlarker, and archivist of women’s hidden histories. Her chance discovery of a small blue vial with a bear etched on it unlocks two timelines at once: the mystery of a 200-year-old apothecary and the mystery of herself. As she scrubs away literal Thames mud, she also excavates the life she buried beneath marriage, routine, and other people’s plans. The modern search for an apothecary becomes the map by which she rediscovers her own purpose.

Personality & Traits

Caroline’s defining qualities—intellectual curiosity, emerging boldness, and increasing self-knowledge—move her from passive hurt to active authorship of her life. Her arc shows that bravery isn’t just physical trespass; it’s the day-by-day refusal to return to the smaller version of herself.

• Intelligent and curious: A trained historian drawn to “the minutiae of life long ago,” she follows the bear insignia from the riverbank to archives, probate ledgers, and city records, piecing together a female-run apothecary erased by time.
• Initially lost and dependent: Reeling from her husband’s infidelity, she thinks, “I didn’t know life without him,” revealing how thoroughly she conflated identity with marriage and future motherhood.
• Brave and spontaneous: On a whim, she joins a mudlarking tour; soon she’s vaulting gates into Bear Alley, forcing open a concealed door, and stepping into a dust-choked shop no one has entered in centuries.
• Reflective and self-aware: Distance from James clarifies that his “pragmatism” has been “stifling and subtly manipulative,” prompting her to set boundaries, refuse quick reconciliation, and choose her path over his plans.

Character Journey

Caroline’s story is a modern case study in Self-Discovery and Identity. London begins as an escape from humiliation but becomes a proving ground. The blue vial doesn’t just connect her to Nella and Eliza; it mirrors her own dormant self, intact beneath years of silt. With Gaynor’s help at the British Library, she decodes the bear mark, reconstructs a secret network of women, and locates the hidden apothecary in Bear Alley—an external breakthrough that coincides with internal resolve. When James arrives to reclaim their narrative, she refuses the well-worn script, files for a separation, quits a joyless job, and applies to Cambridge. By the end, Caroline has shifted from caretaker of other people’s plans to architect of her own future.

Key Relationships

• James Parcewell: Their decade-long relationship is built on comfort and habit that masked control. His affair shatters the façade of safety, but Caroline’s response—refusing a rushed reunion, insisting on boundaries, and ultimately choosing separation—turns the rupture into clarity about what she wants and will no longer tolerate.

• Gaynor Baymont: The British Library librarian becomes Caroline’s co-investigator and friend, modeling collaborative curiosity. Their partnership—sharing sources, following hunches, celebrating each discovery—embodies Female Solidarity and Empowerment, showing how women’s support systems can unlock both historical truth and personal courage.

• Nella Clavinger and Eliza Fanning: Though two centuries apart, Caroline recognizes her own silences in theirs. Their lives of Secrets and Deception illuminate how women have navigated constraint, and the clues they leave behind prove The Power of the Past and History: the past is not a closed door but a set of instructions for how to act differently now.

Defining Moments

Caroline’s pivotal scenes pair physical acts of discovery with internal turning points, each choice widening the life she allows herself to live.

• Finding the vial: On a spontaneous mudlarking tour, she uncovers a small blue vial etched with a bear. Why it matters: It’s the tangible hinge between timelines and the first artifact of her reawakened identity as a historian willing to follow a story wherever it leads.
• Breaking into Bear Alley: Trespassing into a gated clearing and forcing open a hidden door, she steps into the apothecary shop. Why it matters: A literal breaking of barriers that marks the point of no return—Caroline chooses risk over resignation.
• Confronting James: When James appears in London, she refuses to let him script her choices or fast-track reconciliation. Why it matters: Boundary-setting becomes her new practice; she prioritizes her needs over preserving appearances.
• Filing for separation: She formalizes the emotional decision with legal action. Why it matters: It converts insight into action, severing the narrative that her future must orbit his career and desires.
• Applying to Cambridge (and quitting her job): She pursues graduate study and leaves an unfulfilling position. Why it matters: She reclaims time, ambition, and vocation—turning passion for history into a deliberate plan.

Essential Quotes

I wasn’t supposed to be in London alone.

This line captures the shock of upended plans and the void where an identity used to be. The passive construction (“wasn’t supposed to be”) underscores how Caroline has let others author her life—an impulse she will steadily rewrite.

To me, the allure of history lay in the minutiae of life long ago, the untold secrets of ordinary people.

Her methodology and motive in one sentence: she’s not seeking grand battles but hidden ledgers and small objects. The novel vindicates this approach—those “minutiae” crack open a lost world and, with it, Caroline’s own possibilities.

Alone, I could do whatever I damn well pleased.

Defiance and discovery arrive together. The sentence reframes solitude from punishment to power, signaling the pivot from dependence to autonomy that shapes every subsequent choice.

This glass object—delicate and yet still intact, somewhat like myself—was proof that I could be brave, adventurous, and do hard things on my own.

The vial becomes a mirror; its survival through mud and time validates Caroline’s resilience. She reads the artifact as evidence about herself, collapsing the distance between researcher and subject.

I need to choose me. I need to prioritize me. Not your career, not our baby, not stability and not what everyone else wants of me.

The cadence of refusal (“not… not… not…”) functions like a spell breaking. It’s the clearest articulation of her new ethic: a refusal to mistake stability for fulfillment and a commitment to agency over appeasement.