The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen
Page 30
He eyed her seriously for a moment. ‘Just a little over three years ago?’ Nothing wrong with his memory, then.
‘Okay. So not much, but you’d be surprised what a difference time can make.’
‘Hey, I’m an archaeologist. Surprises and time go together for me.’
They emerged from the park to walk along Sutton Street. There were people sitting outside The Pulteney Arms, enjoying their drinks and oblivious to Rose and Aiden as they passed.
‘It’s not far now.’ She waved an arm ahead.
‘I know.’
Rose stopped in her tracks. ‘Wait – how did you know? To walk in this direction?’
Looking a little sheepish, Aiden looked around for a moment, then met her gaze with a contrite look. ‘I asked James.’
‘But you didn’t know you’d be walking me home.’
‘No; no, I didn’t.’ He glanced over his shoulder at the people outside the pub, then took her firmly by the arm and stepped around the corner into the mews running between Daniel Street and Sydney Place. ‘He told me ages ago. But you had agreed to meet me after you’d eaten, so that’s what we’re doing.’ He stepped closer to her. ‘We’re meeting.’ Dark brown eyes met and held light grey. ‘Hi, Rose.’
Rose found his closeness intoxicating. ‘You – you already said that.’
‘It bears repetition. I’ve waited long enough to say it.’
‘What… what do you mean?’ Her voice came out as a whisper.
‘I mean it’s been a long three years.’
Rose’s lips parted in surprise, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes. I’m going to wake up in a minute. This is a dream; I know it is. The fact it all seems so tangible, so real, is an illusion.
‘Rose.’
‘Yes.’
‘Look at me.’
She opened her eyes, but Aiden didn’t speak, just ran a distracted hand through his hair. ‘I wanted to say… to ask, at least, I – damn.’ He broke off, and Rose drew in a steadying breath.
‘Aiden.’ She cleared her throat as he met her gaze. She could do this. ‘I think you quite like me.’ There; she’d said those words again, only this time it wasn’t a question.
He blinked, then nodded but said nothing and, feeling horribly self-conscious, Rose held her breath as he took another step closer.
‘I can talk until the cows come home about my work.’ He spoke softly. ‘But – well, this.’ He gestured between them. ‘I just don’t know where to begin.’
‘I have a good friend – and I know of the sister of another friend – who both believe in beginning at the end. Perhaps you could try that – if it helps?’
Aiden met her gaze seriously. ‘Suppose it’s worth a try.’
Before Rose had time to speculate on what was coming, he closed the remaining gap between them and claimed her lips with his own and without hesitation, she returned the kiss. It was one of those moments when time slows down, but Rose’s heartbeat started to race, although she could hear nothing but a funny echo of what it once sounded like. In contrast, her senses were fully alert as a heady mix of incredulousness and excitement coalesced inside.
When he pulled away, they both stared at each other for a second. Then the corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Yep. It helps.’
Feeling a little self-conscious and hoping she hadn’t just revealed in its entirety the depth of her feelings, Rose returned the smile tentatively. ‘What was that… another thank you… for something?’
He shook his head. ‘More of an apology really, for three years of bad timing.’
Aiden took her arm, and they started to walk again, soon turning the corner into Sydney Place. ‘Would you believe that’s how long I’ve been waiting to do that?’
‘I don’t – you can’t…’ Struggling for words, Rose stared at him in astonishment. ‘But you were always so… indifferent.’
‘Really?’ Aiden’s gaze drifted across the street to Sydney Gardens. ‘Fair enough; I suppose that was how I wanted to seem.’ He turned back to her, then ran a hand through his hair. ‘Well, damn it, what else could I have done – you were wearing a ring.’
Rose stared at him; did he have any idea how fast she would have kicked Jonathan out of the door if she’d had even an inkling of all this? She made a strangled noise. ‘But—’
‘Then this year the ring had gone; don’t think I didn’t notice. I almost lost it the morning you were helping me – so surprised by my turn of luck. Only, I couldn’t find the words. Every time I saw you, I was filled with doubts about how much I should let on, and every time you were no longer there, I cursed myself for being so tongue-tied. It feels like I might never get it right…’ Then he looked at her tenderly. ‘But I’ve just realised whose words might help.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He took her hand in his. ‘Rose, it was for you alone I came to Bath. For you alone I think and plan.’ She stared at him in astonishment as he continued with words she knew well; words from perhaps the most romantic letter ever written. ‘Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes?’ He smiled faintly. ‘Didn’t you work it out from the message I gave you?’
Rose frowned, then stifled a laugh when his eyes gleamed mischievously. ‘The Love Heart? You can’t possibly have expected me to understand your feelings based on a sweet. That’s crazy.’
‘Rose, when it comes to you, all manner of insanity takes over.’ He took her other hand, too, and Rose’s skin tingled in anticipation as she held her breath. ‘Look, I must tell you—’
But before he could finish, a taxi screeched to a halt beside them and, startled, they dropped hands as they both turned to stare at it. For a moment, no one emerged and in the dark it was impossible to tell who was inside. Then the driver got out and, rolling his eyes at them, walked round to the rear passenger door.
‘Got a right one here,’ he said as he grasped the handle. ‘Expects royal service.’ The door swung open. It took the driver a moment to realise his services were still required, and he reluctantly extended his hand and helped a lady emerge from inside, and Rose gasped.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Aiden grabbed her arm, but Rose didn’t turn to look at him. The new arrival looked a little harried and possibly a little older than when Rose had last seen her, as she hurried across the pavement to them.
‘Thank goodness you are here, Rose. My journey has been fraught with complication, not least being conveyed at an unfathomable speed from Basingstoke. I find I do not care for some of these more modern forms of transportation, though a purpose was served in my reaching Bath ahead of my expectations.’
‘Ahem.’
As one, they all turned to look at the disgruntled taxi driver.
‘Ah, indeed. Would you be so kind, sir?’ The lady gestured towards the boot of the car. ‘I shall end this part of my journey here.’
The warm feeling wrapping Rose in a cocoon of happiness faltered slightly. ‘You’re… you’re back? Did you take the apartment again?’ She turned to look at 4 Sydney Place, but light was pouring out of the ground-floor flat. Someone else was clearly already staying there.
With a frown, she turned back just in time to see the driver deposit a heavy trunk in front of them, receive payment from a familiar-looking pouch, and return to his car.
‘I have been “back”, as you call it, a short while – yet not here.’ She looked around and sniffed. ‘I confess, I do not miss it.’
Thinking of how small her apartment was, Rose felt a sense of panic. She would not go and live at home again so there was room for two of them. ‘But where do you plan on staying?’ It sounded a bit rude, but it had to be said.
‘Stay? Oh, staying is not my purpose. I am come to fetch you.’ Jane paused and looked at Aiden. ‘And the archaeologist.’
Aiden’s grip on her arm tightened. ‘Rose, what is going on?’
‘Pray, would you introduce me to this gentleman? ’Twould hardly be appropriate to journey in company if
we are not acquainted.’
Rose’s brain had gone into overdrive. Where? she wanted to shout. Where are we going? But Aiden’s squeeze of her arm comforted her, and she cleared her throat.
‘Aiden – I mean Doctor Aiden Trevellyan – I’d like you to meet… to introduce you to…’ Rose stopped. Hadn’t she just made a beginning with him? Was she going to say this out loud? She looked beseechingly at the lady, who nodded encouragingly. ‘Miss Jane Austen.’
Did You Know?
Though the plot to our book takes a few fantastical turns, there is a seed of truth inspiring many a detail. For example…
Jane’s brother, Charles Austen, was a naval officer and did visit Gibraltar during his career, where he is believed to have purchased the two topaz crosses with chains for his sisters. He informed them of his gift by letter in 1801, a few months before Mr and Mrs Austen moved to 4 Sydney Place, Bath with their daughters.
Cassandra Austen, who outlived Jane by 28 years, did have a dog called Link in her later years.
When the renovations of 4 Sydney Place, the Austens’ former home, took place in 2013, a false wall was discovered in the ground floor room at the back of the house – this room was to become a bedroom, and is the holiday apartment Jane Austen rents in the novel. When the wall was removed, a black iron safe was revealed built into the rear wall by the window. The safe would not open, not even for a locksmith!
The reference by Rose to ‘run mad as often as you choose, but do not faint’ is a mangling of a quote from Jane Austen’s early work, Love & Freindship [sic].
Jane Austen’s pseudonym, Jenny Ashton, was inspired by two authentic sources. In a letter to a relative announcing Jane’s birth on 17 December 1775, her father, George Austen wrote, ‘We have now another girl, a present plaything for her sister Cassy, and a future companion. She is to be Jenny and seems to me as if she would be as like Harry (Jane’s brother, Henry) as Cassy is to Neddy (her brother, Edward). In 1809, Jane used the pseudonym Mrs Ashton Dennis (MAD) when exchanging strong letters with a publisher who had bought but failed to publish her novel Susan – later to become Northanger Abbey.
Jackie Herring, the Festival Director of Bath’s annual Jane Austen Festival, who has a cameo as an open top bus tour guide, really did do this job before taking up her role.
Jane Austen spent six weeks staying with her family at 13 Queen Square (the location for James Malcolm’s company, Luxury Lettings of Bath), and she mentions a black kitten running about the staircase (inspiration for the kitten Mr Darcy).
There is a first edition three-volume set of Ann Radcliffe’s The Romance of the Forest in the archives at Bath Public Library. However, the third volume is in excellent condition!
Acknowledgements
So many people have helped us during the writing of this story and afterwards and, in no particular order, here they are. Huge thanks to:
The lovely Laura McCallen and the team at Canelo Digital Publishing, for loving our story as much as we do!
Marcus Whittington and all the team at Bath Boutique Stays. Without Marcus, who shared many tales about 4 Sydney Place with us, this story wouldn’t be what it is!
Anne Buchanan, Local Studies Librarian in Bath Central Library, without whom the scenes set in the library would hold absolutely no credibility at all and who had lots of helpful suggestions on how to blend reality with our plot.
Jackie Herring, Director of the Jane Austen Festival, for her advice and feedback and for putting on such a wonderful celebration each year.
J. K. Rowling, for creating Harry Potter, without whom we would never have met.
Our lovely test readers, for their helpful and insightful early feedback: Diane Zimanski, Rachel Platt, Sandy Bellock Listorti, Jennifer Gray and Jenny Mattesich.
Our equally lovely families for their support, especially Julian & Steve.
Finally, last but never least, we’d like to thank Jane Austen for everything she has brought into our lives and for being such a fun companion during the writing of this story.
About the Authors
Ada Bright, by Cass
I’d like to introduce you to my friend Ada. She likes Cheerios and bacon burnt beyond recognition (though not on the same plate), and she has an interesting sense of direction. This doesn’t just apply to getting from A to B, but also in reading, where backwards is her preference – she read the third Harry Potter book first, for example, and likes to read the end of every book before she starts.
She’s a talented artist, photographer and writer, but more than that, she’s one of the best friends I have ever made.
Since we met sixteen years ago, she’s had three gorgeous children and moved house twice – from Pasadena in California to Pasadena to… wait for it – Pasadena!
Oh, and she’s so cool, her name reads the same backwards too – that can’t be just a coincidence, can it?
Cass Grafton, by Ada
I am very lucky to be able to count Cass as a best friend and writing partner for over a decade. She likes cold wine, cats and the written word. People are drawn to the beauty of how she strings words together to create a story, but I love the humour with which she does it.
She is a poet in her writing, an adventurer in her life, and the most generous host I’ve ever known.
Since we met, oh so long ago, she has lived in three countries and thrown more parties than I have washed dishes. She has also celebrated the joys in my life with the same love and attention as she has her own family. Though, at this point, I have to say that family is basically what we have become.
She deserves top billing here, but, being Cass, she would not hear of it. Alphabetically is simply how these things are done, and there is really no use doing anything if you’re not going to do it right.
We love to hear from readers!
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First published in the United Kingdom in 2016 by Brown Dog Books
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Ada Bright and Cass Grafton, 2016
The moral right of Ada Bright and Cass Grafton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788633697
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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