Louisa and the Missing Heiress

Table of Contents

 

 

 

“A historically accurate and entertaining mystery series.”

 

“An adventure fit for Louisa May Alcott. A fine tribute to a legendary heroine.”

—Laura Joh Rowland, author of the Adventures of Charlotte Brontë series and the Sano Ichirō novels

 

“This thrilling mystery reads like one of Alcott’s own ‘blood-and-thunder’ tales.”

—Kelly O’Connor McNees, author of
The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott

 

“Anna Maclean shows us a side of Louisa May Alcott we never suspected in this fascinating new mystery series.”

—Victoria Thompson, author of the Gaslight Mystery series

 

“[A] lively debut mystery. I was instantly drawn into the characters and culture of America in the late 1880s.”

—Karen Harper, national bestselling author of
The Irish Princess

 

“Maclean has a wonderful grasp of the history, language, and style of nineteenth-century Boston . . . enough plot twists to keep me entertained until the satisfying conclusion.”

—The Best Reviews

 

“It was perhaps inevitable that Louisa May Alcott, the pseudonymous author of so many blood-and-thunder tales, would, herself, take up sleuthing. This tale of dark secrets, mysterious men, and heiresses in distress will please any reader who has longed to pursue Jo March’s ‘sensation stories,’ those lucrative tales that allowed Beth to go to the seashore, but of which the good Professor Bhaer so stoutly disapproved. As Jo herself might say, a thumping good read.”

—Joanne Dobson, author of
Death Without Tenure

 

“This novel reveals that my great-great-aunt had a secret career that none of us knew about. It’s great fun and a pageturner, and it uses the morals and mores of the time and place to delightful effect.”

—John Pratt, heir to the Alcott Estate

 

“Great fun. . . . Maclean has done a wonderful job of capturing Alcott’s voice and style. . . . I suspect the real Alcott would have liked it and wished she had written it herself.”

—
Woman Writers Magazine

 

“Readers will find themselves enthralled with the details of Louisa’s life, family, and friends, as well as with the expertly crafted mystery . . . promises to be a wonderful new series.”

—Romance Readers Connection

 

“A great debut that’s appropriate for all ages.”

 

 

“Anna Maclean has created an entertaining period piece around Louisa May Alcott and her adventures as an amateur sleuth before she becomes a well-known author. . . . Those readers who enjoy mysteries set in the past, like the Irene Adler series, will want to add this series to the list of their must reads.”

—Roundtable Reviews

 

 

“In
Louisa and the Crystal Gazer
, Louisa continues to grow as a character. . . . This self-growth and self-awareness help keep the book from becoming simply another historical cozy. . . . By relying on her own personal strengths and those of family and friends, Louisa has the ability to find the criminal regardless of the circumstances.”

—Reviewing the Evidence

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Published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc. Previously published in a Signet edition.

 

First Obsidian Printing, June 2011

eISBN : 978-1-101-51554-9

Copyright © Jeanne Mackin, 2004

Excerpt from
Louisa and the Country Bachelor
copyright © Jeanne Mackin, 2004

All rights reserved

 

OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

Set in Cochin

 

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

 

PUBLISHER’S NOTE This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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FOR
TOM NEWTON
AND
MARY K. CLAPP

AGAIN, AND ALWAYS, heartfelt thanks to my husband, Steve Poleskie, for his faith in me, his support, his humor and goodwill. Thanks also to my steadfast agent, Esmond Harmsworth, who was my compass and my guide in this process. And thanks to my perceptive and gracious editor, Ellen Edwards.

 

Gentle Readers,

 

I had a letter from an old friend recently. She asked if I remembered Dot and if I had ever thought of writing her story. She is too kind to say outright but she gently reminded me that youth is far behind and that what I am going to write, I should perhaps write now, and quickly. The letter seemed an omen, for that same day Father had sat up in bed and asked if I had heard from Dorothy Brownly recently. His mind wanders and he thought, that morning, that I was perhaps on my way to one of those girlhood afternoon activities that occupied my younger years.

In my youth, I struggled to write and publish stories. Now I am known and I may even admit beloved. In the streets of Concord I cannot even mail a letter or purchase yarn without being recognized. That is one of the joys of age and success, though I admit to occasionally yearning for those younger days when I could walk the streets anonymously. A certain anonymity no doubt assisted the events of which I now wish to write. While I have never shied away from telling my readers about my family and my childhood, I have—in part because of the deepest personal reservations—kept silent about many of what used to be called my “adventures.” In part from modesty, and a wish not to hurt the living, I have kept secret many of the most interesting years of my life, years in which I found myself in the curious role of lady detective.

I do find myself reticent, however, I who have already revealed so much of my life in my fictional works. What mother would wish to reveal to her sweet children that their beloved author, Louisa May Alcott, had knowledge of crime and criminals, and deeds so dastardly that if known they would require a night-light to burn in the hall? Yet knowledge of them I had. For many years of my life, I found myself surrounded by unexplained death and unexpected danger, as well as holding the unusual and unmerited position of being the only person able to reach a satisfactory conclusion to the mysterious events.

I have decided to go through my diaries and reconstruct the events of some of these years. These, then, are the other stories of my youth, of friends and foes who chanced across my path, sometimes gracing it, sometimes causing such distress I would fall into the Slough of Despond and doubt all, even the words on a white page. I begin with the story of my dear childhood friend Dot, and her untimely demise.

I trust you may gain some enjoyment through the reading of these tales.

 

Louisa May Alcott

I PAUSED, pen in hand, and scratched out the name. It simply did not suit her. I considered following Shakespeare, knowing that my heroine would be as enticing with whatever name God gave her, until I realized that, surely, no reader would become entranced with the lady’s plight were she named Maud or Jo.

 

“Josephine won’t do,” I said. “People would be calling her Jo, and this woman is most definitely not a Jo. Jo is a homespun name, tomboyish and striving, not given over to frivolity or melodrama. This woman needs a name that is more Italianate, more romantic. Beatrice. Yes, that’s it. . . . And her rival shall be Therese.”