10 books like A Useful Woman

Of Jane Austen’s six completed novels, only Emma made me interrupt my reading numerous times to thump my head with the heel of my hand and groan “Oh, Emma, no!” Emma Woodhouse is a contradiction: a spoiled, well-intentioned, bright, unobservant, sometimes ridiculous, shockingly thoughtless, and yet often attractive young woman. I can’t say I loved her, but she was terrifically entertaining. For its sharp-eyed, diverting take on people and society and for the vivid and wonderful creation of Emma Woodhouse, a young woman so wrong and still so endearingly right, Emma is my favorite of Austen’s novels. I’ve read it more than once and laughed (and head-thumped) each time through.  

I adore Tasha Alexander’s books for their elegance and suspense but most of all for her fabulous heroine, Lady Emily Ashton. I always recommend beginning with And Only to Deceive. Lady Emily isn’t yet twenty when her Viscount husband dies on an African safari in 1887. Having married him only to escape her mother—one of her many questionable decisions—Emily doesn’t grieve. But when she reads his journals, to her surprise, she falls in love with him—after his death, which is a cool twist. With keen intelligence and amazing resolve, she solves the mystery of what really happened on his fatal trip. When she stands up to her mother, declaring she values her freedom too much to marry again, I cheer her on. Yes, she changes her mind.

Have you ever picked up a historical romance novel, attracted by the era, then read the book and said to yourself, “Wouldn’t it be great to explore other genres in this setting?” Then you need Anna Lee Huber’s Lady Darby mystery series. I picked up The Anatomist’s Wife at random from the library and was instantly confused. It seemed like the setting for a romance novel—1830s Scotland—but it’s first and foremost a mystery. Her characters are interesting and complex, the mystery is solid, and her beautiful prose elevates the genre.

Georgette Heyer, often called the “Queen of Regency Romances,” was a skilled writer, who crafted nearly thirty Regencies, and her Frederica is not just my personal Heyer favorite but my personal Regency favorite of all time. Bar none. I’ve read it often. It’s literate, entertaining, funny, and satisfying. Romantic, too, but subtle, with only one very gratifying kiss at the end. Yet the slow simmer as Alverstoke shifts first from self-absorbed libertine to a man involved in Frederica’s life and family and finally to a man deeply and selflessly in love is brilliant. Unexpectedly sexy, too.  Dialogue is always intelligent, lively, and authentic. Situations are true to the time. I especially love that Frederica is no great beauty and Alverstoke not very heroic, yet they still end up as the perfect match. And make Frederica the perfect Regency romance.

What do you get when you combine the great 20th-century mystery writer P. D. James and the great 18th-century social commentator Jane Austen? You get Death Comes to Pemberley, that’s what. Austen’s beloved Darcy and Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice are happily married living at Pemberley with their children until along comes that dastardly George Wickham (also from P & P) who has the nerve to get murdered, leaving it up to Lizzy to figure out the culprit! A Regency whodunit is the best of both worlds.  

I couldn’t help but chuckle at the imagined food fight in the beginning of this cozy mystery that shines with social satire, witty tongue-in-cheek dialog, and situational humor. The mystery is entertaining and the characters of Miss Beatrice Hyde-Clare and the Duke of Kesgrave are both well developed and amusing.  

The book begins with the death of Lady Julia’s husband at a dinner party at their house. Both Julia and the doctor believe he suffered a heart attack. Only an enigmatic private inquiry agent, hired by her husband, thinks Edward was murdered. When Julia discovers a threatening note to her husband, she determines to find his killer with the help of the inquiry agent. Over the course of their investigation, Julia changes from a naïve young wife to a mature woman, confident in her abilities. I loved the wonderfully eccentric characters in this book. After Edward’s death, Julia’s sister consoles her, “Don’t fret, dearest. You have always looked striking in black.” 

Unlike my other book choices, Why Kings Confess has a male protagonist, Sebastian St. Cyr. In my opinion, a very good historical mystery series got even better when Sebastian married Hero Jarvis, the brilliant and outspoken daughter of Sebastian’s mortal enemy, Lord Jarvis, a ruthless advisor to the crown. Hero writes searing investigative articles on societal injustice and, despite being heavily pregnant, participates actively in Sebastian’s work. In this book they investigate the brutal death of a man who was part of a secret delegation sent by Napoleon to determine the possibility of peace with Britain. The author is a historian who manages to seamlessly incorporate a lot of fascinating information about Regency England.

Afua’s father is from a Jewish refugee family, her mother is Ghanian. She grows up in an affluent middle-class suburb of London. As she explores her Black and Ghanian identity she looks at what it means to be British; the political heritage, race, and identity from the inside of a loving mix raced family. It is an important commentary on her experience of being in more than one place at the same time.

Blind Justice, set in 1768, is the first of Bruce Alexander’s 11 Sir John Fielding mysteries. Its hero is the famous blind magistrate of London’s Bow Street Court; its narrator is thirteen-year-old Jeremy Proctor, whom Fielding’s wisdom has saved from an unjust accusation of theft. The pair investigate the death of Sir Richard Goodhope, who has been discovered shot in his library, locked from the inside. Sir John assumes suicide, but Jeremy’s observation of a detail that the magistrate could not see suggests murder. Proof of murder involves following Goodhope’s history through London’s streets, gambling houses, coffee houses, and great houses—to Drury Lane theater and Newgate—in a compelling portrait of eighteenth-century London.