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** spoiler alert ** This suspenseful tale revolves around Philip Ashley, a young man, orphaned and raised by his guardian, Ambrose Ashley. Dark and haunting this gothic romance, designed to keep you guessing, is quite the page turner.

Philip is our narrator and it's his inner thoughts that drew me into this deliciously chilling story:

"No one will ever guess the burden of blame I carry on my shoulders; nor will they know that every day, haunted still by doubt, I ask myself a question which I cannot answer. Was Rachel innocent or guilty? Maybe I shall learn that too, in purgatory."

In this offering, Daphne du Maurier expertly explores the nature of good and evil. Philip, who appears to be good early on, often surprised me with his thoughts:

"I swore that, whatever it had cost Ambrose in pain and suffering before he died, I would return it, in full measure, upon the woman who had caused it. Because I did not believe Rainaldi's story. I believed in the truth of those two letters that I held in my right hand. The last Ambrose had ever written to me."

Well crafted gothic tales rely heavily on atmosphere and My Cousin Rachel is rich with an emotionally charged atmosphere which becomes even more intense once Rachel arrives in Cornwall. Philip allows his emotions to rule him as he endures his own ghastly fantasies which are quite dark and then, his joy in receiving the attentions of a beautiful woman. But are they fantasies?

This book is unique because the main characters are difficult to pin down. Is Rachel a manipulative gold-digger, or is she a victim of ruthless and controlling men?? Is Philip simply allowing jealousy to cloud his judgment??

I have only one more passage to share with you. After this, you must read this book for yourself and follow along as Philip relates to you his story of love and hate, of suspicion and doubt and also of jealousy:

"This woman,' she said, 'that you pictured in your mind. Did she take shape when you read the letters, or before?'
I thought about it for a moment. Then I let it all come, with a rush of words. Why hold back anything to rot?
'Before,' I said slowly. 'In a sense I was relieved when the letters came. They gave me a reason for hating you. Up till then there was nothing I could go upon, and I was ashamed.'
'Why were you ashamed?'
"Because I believe there is nothing so self-destroying, and no emotion quite so despicable, as jealousy.'"

A superb masterpiece, brilliant and well-plotted, this story will linger in your mind and haunt your thoughts long after you finish reading it.