Rose shook her head. ‘I’m afraid it was in too poor a condition. I’m so sorry – it was the third you were reading, wasn’t it?’
‘It is of little consequence. I shall begin over.’ She gave a small smile, stroking the hard and well-worn cover almost reverently.
‘I can’t check them out, Jane, because they’re not lending stock and can only be looked at here in the library, so you’ll need to leave them with a member of staff – or me – when you leave, okay?’
Whether she was heard or not, Rose wasn’t sure, for Jane had already opened the first volume.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a whirl as Rose continued to try to learn as much as she could. Morgan, having spent too long staring at the digital reader, decided she needed a break and left to make appointments to visit the various occupants of Sydney Place. Other than trying to keep an eye on Jane in her corner by the window, her nose glued to her book, Rose found herself at liberty to relive her conversation with Aiden over lunch as many times as she wished, and in fact, was so enjoying doing just that as she shelved some books in the fiction section that she only realised it was time to leave when one of her colleagues bade her goodbye and left for the day.
‘Rose!’
She looked over as Barbara called to her from the main enquiry desk. ‘There’s a call for you?’ She waved the phone, and Rose frowned as she placed the remaining books back on the shelving trolley and hurried over. Her mobile was in her pocket, so surely anyone who knew her would use that?
‘Hello?’ She spoke hesitantly, conscious of Barbara nearby as she tidied things away prior to the evening shift.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘It’s Aiden Trevellyan.’
Rose’s eyes widened, colour flooding into her cheeks, and she turned her back on her colleague. ‘Oh! Hi. Did you want Morgan? She left about ten minutes ago, and—’
‘I – er – no. I have her mobile.’
Of course he does, you idiot. Rose bit her lip. Play it cool, stop acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.
‘I just wondered – well, you seemed quite interested in the Lopen dig. I have some great photos on my laptop; if you wanted to – well, I mean – I don’t expect you’re free, but—’
‘I’m free. When? I mean, did you mean today?’ Yes. Very cool. How old are you?
‘Yes. I have some time to kill before my train; I wondered if you fancied meeting after work?’
Rose sighed; no chance to go home and get into something sophisticated and try to improve her unruly hair, then. She shrugged; sophisticated wasn’t a word she could apply to the wardrobe she had inspected the other day. ‘No. I mean yes, of course. I leave at five – now, in fact.’
‘Good. Excellent.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I – well, I’ll be waiting outside.’
* * *
Because Aiden had a train to catch, Rose had suggested they walk down to Graze, which was adjacent to the station, and as it was a fine evening, she walked out onto the terrace at the back to find a table whilst Aiden went to the bar.
Despite the initial frisson of excitement at being asked to meet him, even if only to talk about his work, her confidence had wavered a little during their walk. Conversation had been a little awkward and sporadic, partly due to having to cross so many roads during rush hour and partly due to her realising that without Morgan’s comforting presence it was not quite so easy to be relaxed in Aiden’s company.
She was still struggling to adjust to the new balance in her acquaintance with the doctor. Having adored him from afar for so many years, she was finding it difficult to be herself.
Just then, he came through the door onto the terrace, a glass in each hand, his gaze skimming over the tables. Rose waved a hand, and he saw her and smiled, and her heart dropped several inches and then leapt back into place. Swallowing quickly, Rose glanced down. Good grief, he’d better not do that too many times.
He deposited the glasses on the table before swinging his bag off his shoulder and dropping it into the chair beside Rose.
‘Great spot.’ He looked around appreciatively as he sat down. The terrace overlooked the platforms, so all the comings and goings of the station – trains and commuters alike – were there for their entertainment. ‘I love people-watching.’
I know, her heart whispered. She reached for her drink. ‘Thanks for this. Yes, me too; I like to come here for a cup of tea sometimes and just watch the goings-on.’
He raised his glass to her, saying, ‘Cheers,’ and she did likewise.
There was silence for a moment as they both looked at each other, then, typically, they both spoke at once.
‘Did you want—’
‘What is the—’
‘No – please, Rose; go ahead.’
Still savouring him saying her name, it was Rose’s turn to smile. ‘I was just wondering what the current project you’re working on is?’
Aiden leaned back in his seat and stretched, then sat forward. ‘It’s a fairly routine dig: a small Hampshire church burnt down in the mid-1800s and rebuilt. They want to identify the footprint of the original church, so I’m overseeing the small team doing the excavations to see what can be found.’
Rose’s skin tingled. ‘And… and where is this church?’
‘A small village south of Basingstoke. Chawton? Charming place, bit off the beaten track since they built the A30 bypass.’ He didn’t seem to notice the paleness of Rose’s skin as she took a sip from her wine glass.
‘Oh, er yes, I know it, actually… Chawton.’ Rose stuttered, ‘I didn’t realise it was connected to your being here in Bath.’
Aiden shook his head. ‘Well, there is an off-chance it isn’t. But I’m certainly curious.’
‘The story you are working on with Morgan?’
He hesitated, then took a drink of his beer. ‘Yes.’ Then he smiled at her again and Rose was incredibly thankful she was sitting down. At close proximity it was even more overwhelming. Get a grip, she admonished herself. You’re supposed to be cool, calm and collected, remember?
‘And – er – what was it you were going to say?’
‘I wondered if you wanted to see the photos I mentioned?’
‘Of course! But’ – Rose glanced at her watch – ‘when is your train?’
‘Not for an hour.’
He pulled his battered laptop from his bag and as he fired it up, Rose felt a pang for her old life. How she had loved that morning working for him, doing what she could to restore his computer, watching him discreetly as he focused on the work he loved so much. It hadn’t mattered that he didn’t even ‘see’ her; she had just felt so thrilled to be in his company.
‘Right.’ He fished his glasses out of his jacket pocket. ‘Here, let me come to you so I can show you.’ Before she could realise what he was doing, he’d stood up and moved his chair round next to her, sat down and pulled the laptop across the table to face them both.
Rose could feel the tell-tale colour rising, and took a hasty swig from her glass of wine, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat to ease a sudden tightness.
Half an hour later, she was so fully engrossed in listening to Aiden talk through the articles and photographs with her, along with the relating of some amusing anecdotes from the dig, she’d become more accustomed to his closeness and had actually stopped staring in fascination at his long, slender fingers as they pointed out various things of interest on the screen.
‘Thank you so much! That was incredibly interesting.’
Aiden sat back in his chair and eyed her with a curious look. ‘Really?’
She nodded quickly.
‘It’s not that I doubt you; I just don’t often come across anyone who’s genuinely intrigued. There’s a surface interest, of course, but not for further knowledge, more explanation. It’s… refreshing.’
Rose had edged her chair back a little, too, the better to be able to see him now they were side by side. His words emboldened her, and she gestured towards the now closed laptop.
‘What drew you in? Why archaeology?’
Aiden smiled again, a genuine wide smile that lit up his dark eyes, and Rose grabbed her glass again only to find it empty.
‘Here, let’s have another whilst I bore you to death with the history of my life.’
There was nothing Rose wanted more, but with the constant arrival and departure of trains to their right there was no way of forgetting he had to leave, and soon.
‘What about your train?’
He shrugged. ‘There’ll be another.’
Another half-hour later, Rose was stunned at how much she was enjoying herself and how relaxed she was beginning to feel. Aiden had talked about being born in Cornwall, a county steeped in myth and legend, and how that led to a love of the supernatural and fantasy stories as he grew up. It had appealed to him even more than history, which had led him to study English literature long before his thoughts turned to history itself, and ultimately archaeology, for his Master’s.
He had, in an endearingly self-conscious way, admitted to having been a massive Lord of the Rings fan in his late teens and early twenties – a geek, as he put it – though he said he’d drawn the line at dressing up and attending conventions.
Rose had been unable to avoid blushing at this, though thankfully he didn’t seem to notice. Her embarrassment of being seen by Aiden during the promenade on Saturday still lingered.
In her turn, Rose had admitted to an equal interest in J. R. R. Tolkien’s world amongst others, and he had turned to her enthusiastically, caught up in his story, his face animated in a way she’d only ever seen when he was delivering his talks at the festival.
‘I honestly believe it changed my life, changed me.’ He smiled self-deprecatingly. ‘Some people think you’re mad when you say an author’s words have done that, but it’s true. I think I will always be that same geek who was entranced with Middle-earth. It’s what drew me to archaeology in the end. I was mystified by the past, fascinated by Tolkien’s mythology and the world he created; I wanted to explore ancient culture, ways of life…’ He paused, then shrugged. ‘I’m going on too much. But you can see how it led to where I am today.’
Rose smiled, her heart swelling with something she couldn’t quite define. Perhaps it was admiration for his passion for his subject?
‘I think I begin to see why an old myth about a woman disappearing into thin air might intrigue you.’
‘One of the first things we do on a job like this is a geophys analysis.’ Rose nodded as he explained the purpose of it, not wanting to reveal she already knew from her avid following of Time Travellers. ‘You can imagine, with it being hallowed ground, we wanted to be very respectful and careful in our investigations.’ Rose merely nodded again, unwilling to interrupt him. ‘Well, the findings were disappointingly inconclusive from the project’s point of view, but something else was thrown up, and no one else seemed remotely intrigued… but it really spoke to me, do you know what I mean?’ He looked expectantly at Rose.
‘Yes. I’m sure I do.’
‘At the back of the churchyard, next to the church, were these three graves. Two of them had fairly traditional headstones and were linked to each other – members of the same family. A bit of local research revealed it was a Hampshire family whose youngest daughter had gone missing – completely disappeared without any further trace – when they had been living in Bath for a few years.’
‘Cassandra and Mrs Austen.’ The words came out before Rose could stop them. Damn the wine!
Aiden stared at her. ‘How on earth do you know those names; where those people were laid to rest?’
Rose bit her lip. ‘Oh! I must have seen them in Morgan’s notes; at least, I think I did?’
He studied her for a moment and, sensing her courage would fade if she didn’t press on, said, ‘You were going to tell me what you found?’
‘Yes; yes, I was. Well, it was blatantly obvious from the geophys results the third stone wasn’t marking a grave. It was made to look like it was, that there was a third member of the family there, but there was something about the stone – it was much smaller and entirely different to the ones behind it – and its wording was… well, it was a bit weird to be honest.’
Rose’s curiosity was at its height. What, in this strange world, had been put on a headstone in Chawton churchyard?
‘I’ve dealt with Dan Taylor at Taylor Transmedia before when I’ve worked in America, and I knew he’d just opened up an office in London. So I got in touch – told him I’d like to research a grave that wasn’t a grave and a disappearing act from two hundred years ago. I thought it was a long shot, to be honest, but he went for it in a big way. Apparently, in addition to the new global emphasis, he’s been trying to get his daughter more involved in the company, and he thought it was a good project for her so here I am…’
‘Trying to find out what happened to the missing daughter – to Jane Austen.’
‘Yes. And…’ He stopped. ‘Look; tell me what you think of this. It seems to have gone straight over everyone else’s head, but not yours, I think.’
Rose bit her lip as Aiden opened the laptop again and coaxed it into life. Her anxiety over what he might be about to show her was warring with her sheer delight at how relaxed he seemed around her; how at ease she now felt.
‘Here.’ He had opened up another photo and Rose edged her chair a little closer to look at it. It was clear that the patch of open grass in front of the graves of Cassandra and Mrs Austen – ones she had visited many a time – now held a smaller, arched stone. It looked at least as old as the others. The photo was replaced by another, a close-up of the wording.
‘I can’t make it out.’
‘No, it’s not easy – and therefore easily overlooked. This’ – he pointed to the upper words – ‘says “Jane Austen”, and below it is “Loving and Much Loved Daughter and Sister”. Nothing odd about that, though there are no dates. This, however’ – he lowered his finger down to the base of the stone – ‘was what caught my attention and set me off on this trail in the first place. Can you read it?’
Rose peered closely at the screen. Being nearer the ground and less exposed to the elements, the words were just about decipherable. Then she gasped and sat back. ‘Oh my!’
‘Oh my, indeed.’ Aiden closed the laptop and turned to face her.
Rose’s voice was a whisper. ‘Not all those…’
‘Who wander are lost.’
‘But I don’t understand – why… how…’
‘How did a line from a well-known Tolkien poem end up on a headstone which is over a hundred years older than when the author published The Lord of the Rings? Why is it there?’ Aiden shrugged. ‘Told you I love a good mystery.’
‘It must have been put there to commemorate Jane, even though she’d… disappeared. I can’t imagine how the family coped. How sad.’
Aiden frowned. ‘You’re very well-versed in Morgan’s research. You must be helping her a great deal.’
Still reeling over the implications of the wording on the stone, Rose shook her head. She hoped her unexplained knowledge wasn’t reflecting poorly on her friend. ‘Not at all! Morgan’s doing all the hard work, but she likes to talk.’
‘Doesn’t she just.’ He grimaced. ‘She’s a little… unusual.’
‘You shouldn’t be too harsh on her. She has this wonderful warmth and friendliness, this amazing ability to bring people out, to have them tell her things they never intended.’
Aiden studied her thoughtfully for a moment. Then he smiled briefly. ‘You’re quite right, and I’m wrong to say otherwise. It’s just a little… difficult? Awkward? You know, having the boss’s daughter handed to you as your assistant?’ Then he shrugged. ‘I’m relying on her to find out as much as she can about the silent family. After all, they’re all we have. It’s not like we can talk to the missing woman.’
Jane! Rose’s hand shot to her throat, and she glanced at her watch: almost eight o’clock. How could she hav
e forgotten about her for so long?
‘I – er – do you fancy getting some food?’ Aiden waved a hand at the falling dusk. ‘It’s getting late.’
‘Oh, I couldn’t. You must get back, it will be so late and your friends will be concerned.’ Just like I’m concerned about my… friend.
Aiden met her worried gaze steadily. ‘I’ll text them.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Rose stared at him, mesmerised, desperately wanting to stay, but the moment was broken as her phone began to ring. Sending Aiden an apologetic smile, she glanced at the screen.
‘It’s Morgan. Shall I…?’
Aiden nodded and got to his feet. ‘Go ahead; I’ll nab a couple of menus.’
‘Hi, Morgan. Are you okay?’ She watched the doctor talking to a waiter through the glass windows.
‘Sure! Hey, random; I just saw your friend – you know, the slightly odd one who’s staying with you – Jen, is it?’
Rose’s skin went cold. ‘Oh no! Where was she? Is she okay?’
‘She looked great. She was sitting outside The Pulteney Arms with a couple other people. Seemed to be enjoying herself.’
A small sound escaped Rose, but Morgan was continuing. ‘I’ve been round the corner at Sydney Place; got loads of photos, so that’s cool.’
‘This late?’ Rose frowned at her watch.
‘Apart from the offices on the ground floor, they’re all residential – some students as well. No one was home until evening. I’m just going to call Dr T and let him know. Should stop him implying I’m not doing what I should be.’
‘Oh, right.’ Rose’s eyes slid unconsciously towards Aiden, who had just retaken his seat.
‘What? You sound weird.’
‘Sorry, it’s just – er – I can hand him the phone if… that would be easier?’ Rose met Aiden’s questioning eye with a slightly anxious smile.
‘You’re with Dr T? As in now?’
‘Hm-mm.’ Please don’t let her say anything too—
‘Oh my! Did he ask you on a date? Am I interrupting – did he try to kiss you yet?’
The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen Page 16
