First Impressions: A Novel of Old Books, Unexpected Love, and Jane Austen by Charlie Lovett

afford to pay much for any one volume. He had bought wisely, and often recognized a significance in a volume that a dealer had missed, but his haunts were more likely to be the poorly lit basement rooms of used bookstores than the antiseptic environment of the high-end antiquarian bookseller. He had only ventured into Tompkins Antiquarian Books on rare occasions when there was something in the window that caught his eye; he had never bought anything there. “Obscenely overpriced,” he would always say. He would be furious to know that Gerard Tompkins now owned his
Principia
.
    On the same page where her uncle had made his very first
Natalis Christi
inscription was penciled the current asking price: fifteen thousand pounds. Sophie could no more afford this book than she could bring back her uncle, and rage welled up within her as she held what she knew ought to be hers and yet could never be hers. The world owed her a library, she thought. And if the world couldn’t afford that, then it owed her the shelf of her uncle’s Christmas books. And if that wasn’t forthcoming, then, at the very least, the world owed her
this
book.
    Gerard Tompkins, who sat downstairs deeply engrossed in pricing a pile of new stock, had not recognized Sophie, though she had been introduced to him several times at the London Antiquarian Book Fair. She got the distinct impression he was one of those rare dealers who cared only for money—not for books or people. Sophie had never stolen anything before, but this wouldn’t be stealing, exactly, she told herself. It would be restoring a book to its rightful owner. A single book in exchange for an entire library—if that was a criminal arrangement between her and the world, surely she was the victim, not the perpetrator. Her hand shook and she felt sweat break out on her forehead as she slipped the book into a carrier bag that held two other volumes. Surely Tompkins would search the bag. Surely the book had been tagged and would set off an alarm. Surely anyone who took even a casual glance at her would be able to tell that something was wrong, would stop her, and discover the
Principia
. But in the end it was easy. She just walked out the door. Tompkins didn’t even look up from his work—no doubt having pegged her as a curious browser rather than a serious collector. Sophie was now a book thief, and she was surprised to find that, rather than guilty or afraid, she felt exhilarated.

Hampshire, 1796

    “S O,” SAID MR. MANSFIELD as Jane finished her story, “the woman who offered you forgiveness was the very Nurse whose dismissal was caused by your dishonesty.”
    “A fact I did not realize until she called me by name. Even then I questioned her as to how she knew me, and then she told me the rest of her tale. While at the abbey, she had received a letter from her brother that her mother was ill. He would arrive two days hence by the midnight coach and wished to meet her as soon as he arrived. She replied, suggesting that he come to the abbey garden, where she would wait for him. She kept the appointment and warmly embraced the brother she had not seen for over three years. His news was distressing. Their mother, it seemed, was near death. Yet pressing business meant that her brother must leave Reading before dawn and could not return for her for three days. Then, he promised, he would take her to their mother’s bedside. But a young child lurking in the darkness accused her of consorting with a lover and she was sent away before the brother could return. She never saw either brother or mother again.” Jane fell silent, as tears coursed down her youthful cheeks.
    “A heavy burden for you indeed,” said Mr. Mansfield. “But you say she offered forgiveness, as does God to all who repent their sins.”
    “She died before I could discover her name,” said Jane. “Before I could even offer any apology for my dreadful sin.”
    “You were a child, Jane. And though your intellect and the