The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen

by The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen (retail) (epub)

  ‘Hey, aren’t you meeting the man in charge?’

  ‘Yikes! I didn’t realise the time!’ Morgan began stuffing papers into her folder and shoving pens and notebook into her bag. ‘I’ll be late, and he’ll be cranky about it.’

  Rose felt a pang of regret; every time Morgan left her, she felt bereft, desperate to hold onto the only tangible thing connecting her real life with this strange alternative one – other than Jane, of course, but that was an avenue she didn’t want to think about.

  There had been no sign of Jane in the library this morning, much to her surprise, and she was torn between the relief of not having to keep an eye on her as well as continuing her pretence of a job and wondering where she might be. She wasn’t overly confident Jane wouldn’t just take it into her head to move on and, even though she had no idea how they were going to find a way for her to return to the past, she knew if she lost her, it would be the end of all hope – she’d be stuck in this world forever; this would become her life.

  ‘Hey.’ Morgan stood up and swung her bag over her shoulder. ‘Come with me?’ She swept her hair up into a neat, practised bun and fastened it quickly, then fished in her pocket for the fake glasses. ‘He can be so… I dunno… intimidating?’

  Rose laughed, quietly delighted Morgan wanted her company. ‘I can’t imagine anyone intimidating you.’

  Morgan grinned. ‘Okay, perhaps not intimidating. I just find it hard to be myself around him; he’s so – serious. And quiet. Doesn’t seem to want to chat unless it’s work-related.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you make up for that.’

  Giving Rose a gentle thump on her arm in reprimand, Morgan fixed her with a serious eye. ‘I mean it; please, Ginger? For old times’ sake? Come with me and it will help the meeting pass so much more quickly.’

  Rose walked towards the doors with Morgan. ‘I thought you were lunching with him, not having a meeting?’

  With a shrug, Morgan smiled ruefully. ‘I am – but the food is secondary to whatever it is he will want me to do next. I don’t feel like I’ve made that much progress, so I’m hoping he isn’t too grumpy about it.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll come. Where are you going to be? I need to just go upstairs and grab my things and if he’s a stickler for timekeeping, you’d best not hang around!’

  With another worried glance at her watch, Morgan nodded. ‘He said to come to the Roman Baths Kitchen. Is it far?’

  ‘Just turn left out into the street and head for the abbey. It’s right there, in front of the abbey and Pump Room – you know where those are?

  Morgan was at the top of the stairs. ‘I’ll ask someone! See you in a minute.’ And then she was gone.

  * * *

  Rose arrived at the Roman Baths Kitchen barely five minutes after Morgan and soon spotted her at a corner table. She was alone and waved eagerly when she saw Rose, beckoning her over.

  ‘He’s just popped outside to take a private call he’s been waiting for. Probably the most words he’s ever spoken to me outside of work stuff.’ Morgan winked. Despite her earlier words, she didn’t seem too cowed.

  As there was a set of keys and a battered leather notepad at the place to her left, Rose took the seat opposite and picked up the menu to see what was on offer. Moments like this were so precious now, she wanted to savour every one.

  Barely had she given the menu a cursory glance, however, when Morgan kicked her under the table. ‘He’s back,’ she hissed, straightening the glasses on her nose and giving Rose a wink.

  Rose bit her lip to hide her smile and got to her feet.

  ‘My apologies,’ said a familiar deep voice as a figure came to stand beside her. ‘You must be Rose.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Every nerve tingling, Rose turned slowly around.

  ‘This is Dr Aiden Trevellyan.’ Morgan had also stood up.

  ‘Yes – I know. I mean, hi! Pleased to meet you… Dr Trevellyan.’ Tentatively, Rose held out her hand, only for it to be grasped in his and given a firm shake.

  ‘Aiden. Please, call me Aiden.’ He smiled as they took their seats.

  Feeling the easy blush stealing into her cheeks, Rose sat down quickly, only to notice the frown on Morgan’s brow. When Rose sent her a questioning look, however, she shook her head and mouthed, ‘Later.’

  The waitress appeared then and took their order, and Rose strove to rein in her mind, which was careening out of control in a mist of hows, whys, whats, none of which she was able to voice. She took a deep draught of her water. The doctor had ordered a bottle of wine to accompany their lunch, and she would probably need the Dutch courage to get her through. Glancing at him, Rose swallowed quickly. How she had longed to join him for a meal, but perhaps not quite like this.

  Flicking through his notebook, the man at her side then turned to Morgan, but he paused and glanced back at Rose. ‘I’m sorry – we’ve some things to discuss. Will you excuse us?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Rose welcomed the respite. It meant she could continue to sip her water and study him discreetly – finally something good about this life, she wasn’t just someone who checked the doctor into an apartment once a year; in this life, she was on an equal footing, able to call him by his first name.

  Did he look any different? Not really; but then, why would he? How welcome was the sound of his voice as he ran through Morgan’s progress with her. Being familiar already with his brevity and his intense concentration over his work, she could understand why to Morgan it made him seem unapproachable.

  Rose listened to them whilst pretending not to. They were discussing Morgan’s findings at the police station as she showed him her notes on the family interview. Rose carefully moved her knife and fork a few millimetres along the table, then refolded her napkin, pretending she was otherwise occupied, but in reality taking in every word, unable to stop glancing at the man at her side, or study his hands as he flipped through Morgan’s papers.

  Then she frowned. Why would he be interested in a long-forgotten missing person case? Wasn’t he an eminent archaeologist? His interest in Jane Austen related merely to the Steventon dig of a few years ago, just one of many in his career so far, so it was unlikely his working life had changed in any particular way in this world.

  Just then, their order arrived, and Morgan broke off in mid-sentence. Rose had been right – it didn’t matter that he did little beyond place probing questions and study Morgan’s notes. There were no periods of silence, for her friend had something to say about everything.

  The doctor poured them each a glass of wine, and Morgan took a cautious sip. ‘Okay. And what did you find out at Sydney Place?’

  Rose met her friend’s frantic look, realising she had never returned there after the other morning.

  ‘Oh! Not much…’

  Aiden frowned as he picked up his knife and fork. ‘Did you speak to each tenant, as we agreed?’

  ‘I’m afraid I put paid to that, Dr Trevellyan.’

  Rose sent him an apologetic look, but his only response was, ‘Aiden.’

  Grabbing her glass, Rose took a hasty slug of her wine. ‘Yes, of course. Sorry.’

  ‘And?’

  Morgan was mouthing ‘I told you so’ at her across the table; thankfully, Aiden’s attention seemed to be firmly with her, so Rose drew in a quick breath and nodded.

  ‘Yes – you see, we’ve not been in contact in such a long time, and Morgan was just about to pay the first call when we bumped into each other. There, I mean; at number four.’

  ‘I will get on it this afternoon.’ Morgan smiled widely at Aiden, but he merely grunted.

  ‘If none of them has any information on the family – and that’s highly likely if they’re all tenants – try to find out who the owner of the building is.’

  ‘Yes, sir!’

  Aiden stared at Morgan as if he wasn’t quite sure how to take her, and Rose cleared her throat.

  ‘So – Dr Tre— Aiden. I was really interested in the dig you led in Some
rset a couple of years ago. Are there any plans to revisit the site? I remember reading an article on it, and I’m sure you said there was so much yet to uncover there.’

  To her surprise, Aiden entered willingly into a discussion on the project. His enthusiasm for his subject was infectious, and even Morgan seemed to warm to him a little as he recounted some anecdotes from the dig. Having heard him talk at the festival in previous years, Rose knew already how different this side of him could be from his usual manner. It was as though he came alive when talking of his work.

  Feeling her confidence grow, Rose began to relax as they finished their meals and ordered cups of tea and a dessert for Morgan. After all, as far as Aiden Trevellyan was concerned, he and Rose didn’t know each other at all. She wasn’t sure if it was the wine with lunch or just some devil-may-care attitude that seemed to be rising within her, but she felt her self-confidence rising.

  ‘May I ask, then, how or why you became involved in the job investigating this disappearing woman? It doesn’t seem to be of archaeological interest from what Morgan has told me so far?’

  A shadow crossed Aiden’s face so swiftly, Rose wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it. ‘Not on its own, it’s not.’

  There was a small interruption as Morgan’s dessert and the tea arrived, along with a slight delay as Morgan chatted happily to their server.

  Rose wouldn’t normally have had the courage to press someone for answers, but her curiosity over why and how Aiden might be looking into Jane’s disappearance was at its height. ‘So – this disappearance – why does it interest you?’

  ‘I suppose you could call me a closet detective.’ He grinned suddenly; it made him look years younger, and Rose nearly dropped her teaspoon. ‘I’m fascinated by unsolved mysteries – especially those unearthed during a job. Something came up on the recent project that led me here to Bath, and I couldn’t resist it. That’s it in a nutshell.’

  ‘I love it. And there are so many more mysteries I could help you find.’ Morgan had let the young man return to his work now, and looked hopefully at Aiden, and for the first time, he smiled in her direction.

  ‘A tempting offer, though as an archaeologist I shouldn’t admit to such flights of unscientific curiosity.’ He grimaced and lifted his empty glass. ‘Must be the wine and the company.’

  The girls laughed, and the conversation turned to more general things as they finished their tea, after which Aiden, who insisted on paying, walked over to settle up. Rose couldn’t help but look over her shoulder to watch him, then turned back quickly, colour flooding her cheeks. He was leaning against the bar and staring straight at her!

  Morgan fixed Rose with a semi-serious eye. ‘Well?’

  ‘Well, what?’

  ‘He just totally checked you out!’

  ‘He did not.’

  ‘Rose Wallace! Don’t you act the innocent with me. And I heard you say “I know”. How do you know him if he doesn’t know you?’

  ‘I’ve heard of him. Read a lot about his projects before now.’

  ‘Really? That’s it? Yet the minute you laid eyes on him, you knew it was him?’

  ‘Well, I’ve seen photos, and he was the guest archaeologist on an episode of Time Travellers – it’s all about historic excavations and so on.’

  ‘And recorded him, too, I bet. Did you keep watching him on rewind – you know, do the slow motion thing?’ Morgan waggled her brows and laughed, and Rose shushed her as the doctor returned to the table.

  ‘I must get back to the library.’ Rose got to her feet, feeling flustered and strangely happy at the same time.

  ‘And I must, too.’ Morgan slung her bag over her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t forget your glasses.’ Aiden indicated the abandoned spectacles, and Rose smiled to herself. She suspected Morgan had removed them because she wasn’t used to wearing them.

  Morgan snatched them up and replaced them. ‘Thanks! Always doing that. Well, we must be going.’ She grabbed Rose’s arm and all but dragged her across the room towards the door. ‘Thanks for lunch, Dr… Aiden.’

  Unable to help herself, Rose glanced over her shoulder again as they left. Aiden was still standing by the table, watching them, and he raised a hand before turning back to gather his things.

  * * *

  Smiling softly, Rose followed Morgan down the street with only one ear on her friend’s muttering about the amount of research Aiden had given her to do. The day was definitely feeling a little brighter than it had an hour ago.

  ‘Hey, look, isn’t that your friend, Jen?’

  Rose raised her gaze to follow Morgan’s hand as they rounded the corner by the abbey and paused on the end of Cheap Street to let a car go by.

  An open-top tour bus was sailing past, and sure enough, on the top deck was Jane. She looked extremely happy, and when she saw them she gave a small wave.

  Rose’s hand dropped to her side as she and Morgan continued their walk, a frown on her brow. Unless she was much mistaken, Jackie Herring – the Director of the Jane Austen Festival in her other life – stood at the front of the upper level of the bus, talking into a microphone.

  As soon as they returned to the library, Morgan settled herself back in front of the digital reader, and Rose – allocated the job of tidying the fiction shelves by Barbara, who was still eyeing her with caution – welcomed the chance to dwell on lunch whilst still appearing to work.

  Until, that is, about an hour later, when a familiar face appeared by her side: Jane Austen.

  ‘So how was the guided bus tour?’ Rose smiled in response to Jane’s animated face.

  ‘I am all eager delight; a most informative lady was our genial hostess.’

  ‘I’m sure she was; her knowledge of Bath is extensive.’ You have no idea, Rose added in her head. Then she realised Jane was holding a small piece of paper out to her.

  ‘I was advised by a lady.’ She waved a hand in the direction of the main enquiry desk. ‘I must complete this if I seek a rare title?’

  Rose took the request slip from Jane. There was something quite surreal about seeing the familiar handwriting there in front of her.

  ‘Your pens do not please me.’ Jane held up a biro then studied her fingers. ‘To be certain, one’s skin does not stain, yet I feel oppressed by the continuous flow of ink.’

  Rose almost laughed. ‘You are intimidated by this?’ She pointed at the cheap pen.

  ‘There is no opportunity for pause, no moment of reflection, whilst refreshing one’s pen. I like it not.’

  Rose shook her head and studied the form. ‘Okay. Let me go and ask someone how I do this. Why don’t you go and find a seat somewhere?’

  Jane looked around the room, her mood visibly sobering. ‘It is not a pleasing place. I do not find it conducive to reading. The light is too strong, too bright, and pains my eyes.’

  ‘How about over there?’ Rose pointed to a corner reading nook. ‘There are windows so the light will feel more natural? I’ll find out what I can. I don’t know how long I’ll be.’

  ‘As you wish.’ Jane walked over to the other side of the room, studying the shelves as she went, and Rose hurried over to where Mary was. ‘Please can you help me? A lady has just asked if we have a copy of this.’ She passed the slip to her; Mary was turning out to be a good source of information without questioning too much why Rose’s knowledge was so vague.

  Mary frowned. ‘Ann Radcliffe? If we do have a copy, it will be in the Local Store.’ She glanced around. ‘You’ll need to speak to Anne.’

  ‘Er – Anne?’

  Shaking her head, Mary took Rose by the arm and turned her around. ‘There.’ She pointed over to the shelves housing local history books. ‘Anne – the local studies librarian, remember?’

  ‘Oh, of course. Sorry!’ Rose smiled as genuinely as possible, silently begging Mary to forgive her, and she grabbed the slip and walked quickly over to the local studies area.

  ‘Hi – er, Anne? I was wondering if you might help me find
a book for… a customer.’

  Anne took the slip from Rose and studied it thoughtfully. ‘We do have it, but I’m not sure it’s available for public use. Is the customer waiting?’

  ‘Yes, she is.’

  ‘Then I’ll go and look now.’

  Rose hovered near the door through which Anne had gone – not far from where Morgan was still peering intently at her screen – and within five minutes Anne returned, handing over two aged volumes.

  ‘This is all I can let you have of Radcliffe’s story right now. There’s another volume to this one, but it’s unfit for production.’

  Rose took the two books carefully. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Anne waved away her thanks with smile and a reminder to ensure the customer handled them with care and returned them so they could be put back in the store.

  Rose found Jane in a corner seat, a small pile of books on the table beside her and one in her hand which she held towards the light coming in through the window as she read.

  Looking up as Rose took the seat opposite, Jane smiled. ‘Do you have pleasing news?’

  ‘Sort of. What are you reading now?’

  Jane raised the book and showed the cover to Rose: Maritime History of the World. ‘I find it most engrossing.’

  ‘Are you happy enough continuing then? I have this for you.’ She waved the old books and Jane’s eyes shone as she put her existing book back on the table and reached for those held by Rose.

  She studied the spines, then opened the front of one of them. ‘The Romance of the Forest.’

  ‘Is it another Gothic romance?’

  Jane looked up from studying the two volumes. ‘Indeed.’ She frowned. ‘Do you not have the third volume?’