This novel is the work of more than two years, during which my life changed in ways unfathomable to me when I first typed the words “Chapter One.” In the period of its gestation, I found myself facing personal challenges of an unexpected nature. Many days, it was difficult to leave the present behind and slip into Regency England to spend time with Elizabeth and Darcy — but once there, it was like entering the home of old friends. I came to understand, more than ever before, Rudyard Kipling’s words: “There’s no one to touch Jane when you’re in a tight place.”
There is indeed no one who approaches Jane Austen’s ability to help one through a tough time — except the individuals mentioned here. I am indebted to the following people, without whom neither this book nor I would be what we are.
My family, both immediate and extended, for support in forms too numerous and profound to list.
Anne Klemm, a kindred spirit whose friendship has nurtured my writing and my enjoyment of Jane Austen in so many ways — from book discussions and an Austen pilgrimage through England, to brainstorming and critiques. If we were not Jane and Cassandra in a previous life, we were surely sisters.
Theresa Nunemacher and Diane Welch, for the gift of their friendship. And also, along with Alyssa Hoff and Karen Ellsworth, for giving me time and space to write.
Stan! Brown, for helping me find my way back to Netherfield when the path grew dark.
Victoria Hinshaw, Andrew Hughey, Julia Martin, Lisa Bernard, and Peter Archer, for generously sharing their expertise.
Ed Greenwood, for kindness to a fledgling writer.
My fellow members of the Jane Austen Society of North America, for sharing their knowledge of and enthusiasm for Austen and her writing. I especially thank Joan Philosophos and Marsha Huff for their encouragement. Joan, I wish I could give you a copy of this book, but I know you read it over my shoulder as I wrote.
My editor, Brian Thomsen, for helping me turn an idea into reality.
And, of course, Jane Austen.
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a
single man in possession of a good fortune,
must be in want of a wife.
— Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 1