First Impressions: A Novel of Old Books, Unexpected Love, and Jane Austen (30 page)

S
OPHIE CLOSED HER
eyes as the smoke began to burn them. The heat washed over her in waves and the smoke tore at her throat whenever she took a breath. She tried to struggle against her bonds, but Winston had done his job well. Exhausted, she could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness when she heard voices. Richard and Jane, she thought, welcoming her. Perhaps she would walk the grounds of Pemberley with them when this was all over. She let her head fall against her chest, and began to smile as she saw an old man in black clerical garb and a young woman in a pale blue dress with an Empire waistline walking on the shores of a deep blue lake. “I think,” said the woman, “I shall call it
First Impressions
.” “Sophie,” said the man, turning to her. “Sophie, stay with me!”

Her bonds fell free and she slumped forward in the chair into someone’s arms. How had he done it? How had eighty-year-old Richard Mansfield come from beyond the grave to catch her, to hoist her out of the chair, to run with her from the gatehouse into the cool evening air? A scream rent the air and tore Sophie back to the present. She lay on the ground coughing out the horrid smoke and looking into the face of Eric Hall.

“My knee!” came a voice from nearby, and Sophie turned to see Winston Godfrey, also on the ground, Victoria standing over him with a tire iron. “The bitch took out my knee,” he said.

“Oh, take it like a man,” said Victoria, leaning over to retrieve Sophie’s bag and
Little Allegories
from where Winston had dropped them. “I would’ve done a lot worse if Sophie hadn’t come out of there alive.”

In another minute Sophie was sitting up, Eric holding her as she sucked the clean cool air into her lungs. Behind them, flames leapt through the upper windows of the gatehouse.

“You still didn’t save your precious Jane Austen,” gasped Winston, propping himself up on one elbow. “The only thing that proved she wrote
First Impressions
went up in that fire.”

“That would be true if you weren’t incredibly stupid,” said Sophie. “But lucky for me you burned an invoice for two thousand tulip bulbs. The Monkhouse letter is still in my bag.” Winston sank back to the ground with a groan and Sophie started to laugh.

“The police and firemen will be here any minute,” said Eric. “We need to get you to the hospital, and I suppose that vermin, too,” he added, nodding toward Winston.

Sophie felt more clearheaded now, and as lovely as Eric’s arms felt, she pulled away from him as she sat up further. “So is what Winston said true?” she asked. “Are you Richard Mansfield’s descendent? And have you been stalking me?”

“Well, the first part is true,” said Eric. “But I wouldn’t exactly say I’ve been stalking you. I really was staying in Oxford and shooting my mouth off at the Bear every night when I saw that article about Bayfield House. I knew the way Winston preyed on women and I was afraid he’d come after you looking for that book, so when I found out you worked at Christ Church, I thought maybe I should check up on you.”

“To protect me from this scum,” said Sophie, nodding toward Winston, “or to get access to the Bayfield library?”

“I honestly didn’t believe the book existed; I just didn’t want Winston to hurt you. And then everything changed.”

“Because you found out the book was real after all.”

“No. Because I fell in love with you. I thought you knew that.”

“Well, how could I know it if you never told me?” said Sophie, smiling.

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” said Eric, pulling her back into his arms.

“And you’re not just saying that to get hold of
First Impressions
?”

“You can do whatever you like with the book,” he said. “I’m only interested in you.” Sophie believed it now. She relaxed into the support of Eric’s embrace and let his love wash over her for a moment until she heard sirens in the distance.

“What am I going to do about the books, and the letters?” she said, looking into his eyes.

“The stolen pieces you’ll return,” said Eric. “But from what your sister says,
First Impressions
belongs to you.”

“I stole that, too,” said Sophie, “from Bayfield House.”

“You did no such thing,” said Victoria, who, Sophie now saw, was holding the book. “This book has Uncle Bertram’s ownership signature in it. And you know he wanted you to have his books.”

But Victoria’s voice sounded faint to Sophie, who had not dropped her eyes from Eric’s gaze—a gaze that reiterated the words he had spoken a minute earlier. He loved her.

“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner,” he whispered. “I guess I wasn’t very good at protecting you.”

“Well, kiss me,” said Sophie, “and let’s see if you’re any good at that.”

Dear Gusty,

Would you believe it, Eric was seriously considering changing the name of Busbury Park to Pemberley, but I convinced him that the only thing Winston Godfrey was ever right about was that this place should be called Mansfield Park. It seems the only way to honor both Jane Austen and Richard Mansfield. And so you couldn’t have picked a better wedding present than my Uncle Bertram’s first edition of
Mansfield Park
. It was far too generous, but I am nonetheless grateful to you not just for tracking it down for us, but for the way you have presented my case to so many of the booksellers who ended up with my uncle’s books. Many of those books are now in the library here—though I know it will take the rest of our years to fill all those shelves. Father kindly bought back for me the copy of Newton’s
Principia
which I returned to the dealer from whom I had purloined it. I now have almost half of my uncle’s beloved Christmas books.

First Impressions
has reached its twenty-third printing and is translated into forty-five languages, with more coming every day. It has kept our agent and publishers busy, and I like to think that Jane Austen would be happy to know that her little story has brought Busbury Park back to life.

We are having a little service of “Thanksgiving for the Life of Richard Mansfield” at the chapel next week on his birthday, and I do hope you will be able to come down. I still walk to his grave every Sunday, no matter the weather, and whisper him a thanks for all he has done for me—not just in helping Jane Austen to become a writer, but in establishing the line that gave me my wonderful husband. I don’t think I ever understood just how happy Eliza was with Mr. Darcy, but living here with Eric, now I know. He is calling me for a walk down by the lake even now, but I know he joins me in sending thanks for the perfect gift.

Yours Most Affectionately,

Sophie

T
HE CHARACTERS OF
Jane and Cassandra Austen, their parents, brothers, and their niece Anna are all based on historical figures. The basic facts of Jane Austen’s life—her family relationships, where she lived, and when she wrote and revised her novels—are essentially as presented in the novel. Jane and her sister did spend a year in Oxford and Southampton under the tutelage of Mrs. Ann Crawley and attended the Reading Ladies’ Boarding School from 1785 to 1786. Jane did travel to Kent in September 1796. Little Anna Austen, at the age of four and a half, “was a very intelligent, quick-witted child, and, hearing the original draft of
Pride and Prejudice
read aloud by its youthful writer to her sister, she caught up the names of the characters and repeated them so much downstairs that she had to be checked; for the composition of the story was still a secret kept from the knowledge of the elders.” I am grateful to
Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters, a Family Record
, by William Austen-Leigh and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh, for this information.

The original version of
Sense and Sensibility
, titled
Elinor and Marianne
, was an epistolary novel, and some have suggested that
First Impressions
(which later became
Pride and Prejudice
) may have been so as well. The letters in my fictional version of
First Impressions
rely heavily on Jane Austen’s language from
Pride and Prejudice
. The letter Jane writes to Mr. Mansfield, but never sends, from Bath includes an account of a ball very similar to one in
Northanger Abbey
. The text of the letter from George Austen to Thomas Cadell is from the original.

Busbury Park and Richard Mansfield are completely fictional. The summaries and excerpts from his work
A Little Book of Allegorical Stories
are taken from an anonymous book of 1797:
The Selector: Being a New and Chaste Collection of Visions, Tales, and Allegories, Calculated for the Amusement and Instruction of the Rising Generation
. All the titles of Mansfield’s allegories are taken from this work, except for “General Depravity of Mankind,” which is a chapter title in Mary Martha Sherwood’s didactic children’s book,
The Fairchild Family
(published between 1818 and 1847).

There was, in fact, a printer in Leeds named Griffith Wright who published the
Leeds Intelligencer
, and his son Thomas did take over the business in 1784. The text of the article about penalties for using fireworks is taken from the
Leeds Intelligencer
, November 7, 1796. The character of Gilbert Monkhouse is entirely fictional.

I
AM GRATEFUL TO
have grown up in a home where books were valued both as texts and as physical objects, and for that I especially thank my father, Bob Lovett, who not only collected books but also taught literature. His passion for the eighteenth century and for Jane Austen led me into the world that much of this novel inhabits.

Humble thanks to Janice Lovett, whose wisdom has contributed to
First Impressions
as it has to so much of my writing; David Gernert and Anna Worrall, who saw the potential in a rough manuscript and gave me direction; and Lindsey Schwoeri for her expert editorial guidance. To the incomparable Kathryn Court I must express thanks for so much more than brilliant editing—the energy to write this novel is due in large part to her support and encouragement.

Thanks also to Stephanie Lovett for assistance with Latin, to Victoria Huxley for a lovely tour round Jane Austen’s Adlestrop, to the Wake Forest University library and Megan Mulder for allowing me to handle (and even read) their first edition of
Pride and Prejudice
, to Mark and Catherine Richards for so much hospitality in their book-filled Maida Vale flat, and to Chris and Delphie Stockwell for helping me understand English gardens and so much else about life in Oxfordshire.

In addition to William Austen-Leigh and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh’s
Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters
, I am particularly indebted to the anonymous work
The History of Printing
, published in London by the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge in 1855.

To all those at the Gernert Company and Penguin Books who have brought my work to the world—especially Will Roberts, Rebecca Gardner, Rebecca Lang, Annie Harris, and Scott Cohen—I am eternally grateful.

Finally, thanks must go to my family, in particular to the aforementioned Janice, whose patience, love, and support make being a writer possible, and to Jordan and Lucy—my children not only inspire me; they also read my novels.