The Unexpected Past of Miss Jane Austen (ARC)

by Ada Bright

  The Unexpected Past of Miss Jane Austen

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Author Notes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Acknowledgements

  About the Authors

  Contact Us

  Copyright

  We dedicate this book to J.K. Rowling, without whose Harry Potter stories we would never have met

  Author Notes

  The Baigen family occupied the property in Chawton known as Baigens when Jane Austen lived in the village. At the time, the garden bordered that of the cottage (now Jane Austen’s House Museum). For the purposes of this story, a different family inhabits Baigens.

  During the writing of this book, we studied numerous texts from respected authorities on Jane Austen’s life in Chawton. We also consulted experts at both Jane Austen’s House Museum and Chawton House, including Jeremy Knight – a descendent of Jane Austen’s brother, Edward – who lived at the property for many years.

  As you can imagine, there were occasional differing opinions about the appearance of Chawton village in the early nineteenth century, as well as some of the key properties referred to in this story.

  As a result, we have had to make a few authorial choices over which way to go in this respect, but we hope we have managed to tread a plausible path through Chawton in 1813 as we blended fact with fiction.

  Chapter 1

  Facts are such horrid things. So wrote the teenage Jane Austen when penning her epistolary novel, Lady Susan, and it remains as much a truth today as it was then. Jane Austen is still dead, of course. There is no evading this inescapable truth either, here in the twenty-first century. Yet dedicated fan of the author, Rose Wallace, had recently discovered there are some grey areas to what should be hard fact.

  For example, the lady stood behind her fastening her authentic early nineteenth-century dress, the final layer in what seemed an inordinate amount of clothing. Perhaps it shouldn’t feel so strange. After all, hadn’t Rose just been attending the annual Jane Austen Festival in Bath along with her best friend, Morgan Taylor, who’d flown in from the USA to finally meet up with her for the first time? And hadn’t they, as a result, been dressing up in costume already?

  ‘It is comfortable, yes?’

  Rose nodded. ‘Yes – yes, thank you.’

  The lady walked away to inspect the remaining items spread out on the bed, and Rose drew in a shallow breath. Then, there was the travelling-through-time thing. Not possible. Fact. Only Rose knew this to be more than just a bit grey round the edges. After all, hadn’t she just days ago been trapped in an alternate universe all because someone had decided to slip through time by a couple of hundred years and then got stuck?

  ‘Rose?’ Turning around, Rose took gloves and a reticule from the lady. ‘Perchance we should endeavour to seek out the gentleman?’

  Aiden! Rose clutched her midriff as her insides lurched. What must he be thinking?

  ‘I’ll go and see him.’ She opened her bedroom door, then said over her shoulder, ‘Jane, I’m worried he won’t believe any of this.’

  Jane Austen – for yes, it was indeed she – merely raised a brow. ‘I remain unperturbed. The gentleman will credit the sense of it when we are arrived at our destination. Any momentary uncertainty will be swept away by fact.’

  ‘Fact?’ Rose muttered as she crossed the sitting room of her flat and approached the door to the small room she used as a study. ‘He may think the dictionary needs to revise its definition.’

  She paused as she raised a hand to tap on the door. What if he wasn’t ready, hadn’t worked out how to properly don the formal period attire pressed upon him by Jane? What if he’d decided not to go along with this ridiculous scheme? He’d never speak to her again! Rose drew in a short breath. She’d spent three years crushing on Aiden from a distance – Dr Aiden Trevellyan, esteemed archaeologist. Was it really less than an hour since he’d kissed her and turned her world both upside down and into full focus? Until Jane reappeared…

  ‘You will find the application of a hand to the wood efficacious in achieving the requisite sound.’

  Rose threw Jane an all-speaking look, but the lady merely smiled and walked over to inspect the array of photo frames on a side table.

  ‘I recall this likeness.’ Jane lifted one of the frames and, curious, Rose glanced over. ‘It was in your chamber, was it not, at the residence of your mother?’

  ‘That’s my dad. It’s the only photo I have of him.’

  Rose turned away, tried to calm her rapidly beating heart and knocked on the door.

  ‘Come in.’

  She stepped into the small room. Aiden had his back to her, his gaze upon the open book on her desk as he studied the instructions on how to fasten a Regency gentleman’s cravat.

  ‘Aiden?’ Rose’s voice sounded hoarse to her ears. ‘Are you… are you ready?’

  He turned around, and she tried not to stare. How could someone so absolutely gorgeous look even more so? Aiden in full Regency attire had been the stuff of dreams before now; how was she supposed to deal with the reality?

  He frowned and looked down at his person. ‘Is something the matter? Did I put it on wrong?’

  Rose smiled as he met her gaze again. ‘Not at all. Are you—’ She gestured at the piece of cloth hanging loosely around his neck. ‘Can I help at all?’

  Aiden walked over, and she willed the habitual colour not to flood her cheeks. It didn’t work.

  ‘Can you help me at all? An excellent question. Let’s start with why am I stood in your apartment, dressed as I am under the instruction of a woman who professes to be a long-dead author?’

  Rose bit her lip. That wasn’t exactly what she’d meant.

  Running a hand through his hair, Aiden sighed. Then, he took one of her hands in his.

  ‘Rose, less than an hour ago, you and I were… well, let’s just say we were in the process of clearing up three years of misunderstanding, and now…’ His voice tailed away as he took in her appearance at last. ‘You…’ He swallowed visibly. ‘You look beautiful in costume.’

  The heat in Rose’s cheeks intensified, and she shook her head. ‘I’m not sure Jane would appreciate us calling these costumes.’ Rose waved a hand at his outfit. ‘Does yours fit okay? Are you… Is it comfortable enough? Here.’ She stepped forward, trying not to notice how close they were, and fashioned a knot in the neck cloth as best she could. ‘Probably not up to Beau Brummel’s standards, but it will have to do for now. I don’t know how long we’ll…’ Her voice faded, but Aiden raised a hand to touch one of her auburn curls where it lay beside her cheek.

  ‘Rose, what is going on?’

&nb
sp; ‘I wish I knew. But you must believe me – and Jane. She is who she says she is. She has a charmed necklace, and it allows her to slip through time.’

  ‘How do you know it’s true?’

  ‘Because…’ Rose hesitated, then raised her chin and met his gaze firmly. ‘Because I do. A few days ago, the necklace was lost and she was trapped here; stuck in the twenty-first century. I was with her when it happened and saw all the consequences. She’d come from 1803, when she lived in Sydney Place, before she became a published author. Everything to do with her disappeared. I saw the evidence with my own eyes; I lived it!’ Rose shuddered. ‘It was a nightmare.’ She spoke softly now. ‘This is no joke, no illusion. I don’t know why she’s come for us, but please believe me.’

  Rose’s eyes pleaded with him, and Aiden held her gaze for a moment. ‘Show me at least this is real.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, which curved slightly at the edges as Aiden leaned in and placed a firm kiss upon her lips, and Rose threw her arms around his neck and held on to him as they melted into a kiss even more meaningful than their first.

  ‘Ahem.’

  With a start, they broke apart. Jane Austen stood in the doorway, frowning. ‘Come, we must make haste and return before Cassandra has reason to doubt my purpose. She was not in favour of my mission.’

  Aiden and Rose exchanged a look. What mission? Then he smiled at her, took her hand again and whispered in her ear. ‘I’m in. I’ve only just found you, Rose. I’ve no intention of letting go of you so soon.’

  Jane tsked. ‘We are going to the year thirteen, Dr Trevellyan – 1813 to be precise. Miss Wallace is an unmarried young lady. You must behave according to the social strictures of the time.’ Her gaze moved between them. ‘I trust you both know what those are?’

  Aiden was a historian before he was an archaeologist, and Rose knew he understood exactly what she meant. He nodded, but did not release Rose’s hand. ‘We understand.’

  They followed the lady back into the sitting room, where she flipped open the lid of the small trunk she had brought with her, leaned in and withdrew a cloak.

  ‘Here, Rose, take this. It will be late when we arrive in Chawton; you must not take cold.’

  Rose frowned but took the offering nonetheless. ‘It’s only half-nine. Aren’t we going immediately?’ She looked down at her attire and then at Aiden in his, only he was frowning too.

  ‘Er… Miss Austen?’

  Jane looked over at Aiden. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Why did you bring a box full of these particular clothes with you?’

  It was Rose who answered. ‘Although inanimate objects made in the past can travel forward, for they might still exist today, only those today which had been created by 1813 can travel backwards to that year. If you were in modern clothing, or even Regency costumes made in the twenty-first century, you would arrive…’ Her voice faltered.

  ‘You would arrive at my home in naught but the covering in which you were born, sir,’ the lady added succinctly.

  Aiden said nothing to this, and Rose sighed. After all, what was there to say?

  Jane busied herself fastening the clasp on the trunk and then stood to face them both. ‘I must presume upon you, Rose. We must make use of your conveyance to return to Hampshire.’

  ‘Why there? Can’t we just use the… you know.’ Aiden waved a hand. ‘To get to – when was it – 1813?’

  The lady eyed him keenly for a moment, then cocked her head to one side. ‘Young man, you are not unintelligent, for if you were, my friend would not find you interesting. Yet I have found intelligence must always be tempered with common sense, or else the most learned of men oft become fools.’

  Aiden smiled faintly. ‘Touché.’

  ‘If we were to use the charm here, there too would we be: inside this very house in Bath in 1813, a property inhabited by strangers, not my family. They may be unforgiving of our sudden appearance. Further, it is a carriage ride of more than a day to reach Hampshire. No, we must return to Chawton, whence we shall proceed.’

  Rose tried to stay focused. ‘But Jane, I can’t drive us. I’ve been drinking.’

  ‘That is regrettable. Sir.’ Jane turned to Aiden. ‘May we avail ourselves of your assistance?’

  Aiden looked from Jane to Rose, then down at his attire. ‘You want me to walk to the Francis to fetch my car dressed like this?’

  It was the first time Rose had seen him rattled by what was happening, and she threw Jane an anxious look.

  ‘There is no cause for alarm, sir.’ Jane beckoned to Rose. ‘You will be escorting us both.’

  ‘But—’

  Rose turned Aiden to face her. ‘The Festival is in full swing, Aiden. No one will bat an eyelid.’

  Jane followed Rose over to the door, then looked back at Aiden. ‘Time is of the essence.’ She waved a hand at the small trunk. ‘If you would be so kind, sir?’

  * * *

  The car journey to Chawton took a little under two hours and, for the most part, it passed in silence as each of them seemed wrapped in their own thoughts.

  As they left Winchester behind and picked up the A31, however, Rose touched the leather seat on which she sat. She’d never been in Aiden’s car before, and she looked over at him in the driver’s seat from under her lashes. There was nothing on his face to betray what he was thinking. He looked as he always did: inscrutable, quietly intense and extremely handsome. If it had not been for the heavy silence surrounding them and their unusual clothing, she could imagine it was just a casual drive into the country.

  Surreptitiously, Rose’s gaze roamed over Aiden’s lean frame in the close-fitting coat, then down his long legs to the leather boots encasing them. How was it she was even more attracted to the man than ever? All these years of reining in her runaway thoughts about him hadn’t prepared her for this: an entirely different level of fantasy.

  ‘Did you say something?’

  Rose started as Aiden turned his head suddenly, then shook her head. ‘No, I – er – I just wanted to say thank you for driving us.’

  Aiden reached over and covered her hand with his for a moment before he had to change gear again. Goodness knew what he was thinking of her. Rose, for possibly the first time ever, didn’t think she wanted to know. Insane would surely be top of the list, simply for believing Jane was whom she said she was.

  Rose drew in a shallow breath. They had barely twenty minutes before they reached their destination. What would happen then? Her insides were swirling with anxiety.

  Aiden flexed his shoulders, and Rose saw him cast a glance at the rear-view mirror.

  ‘You were saying it’s been quite some time since you last saw Rose.’

  Jane nodded. ‘For myself. For Rose, not so much.’

  Rose almost laughed. Then, she sobered. Jane had experienced loss, dreadful uncertainty and upheaval in her life since they had last met in Bath, with her father dying and she, her mother and sister constantly moving from home to home until they found sanctuary at Chawton.

  ‘I am indebted to you, sir, for bearing us to my home so swiftly and with so little inconvenience.’

  Rose twisted around to face the lady as best she could. ‘Are you happy in Chawton, Jane? We’re always told you are, but—’

  ‘There is nothing like hearing it from the highest authority?’ Jane smirked. ‘Indeed. I am exceedingly attached to our home.’ She glanced out of the window. ‘We are almost there. I must caution you both, there will be company awaiting our return, notably my brother, who—’

  ‘As I recall, Miss Austen, you had… have several brothers?’ Aiden addressed Jane through the rear-view mirror, but Rose could tell Jane continued to look at the back of his head as she merely raised a brow.

  Aiden cleared his throat. ‘My apologies for the interruption.’

  ‘Curiosity makes one impetuous, does it not?’ Jane smiled faintly. ‘I speak of my brother, Charles, sir – Captain Charles Austen – the
youngest.’

  There was a note of pride in Jane’s voice, and Rose smiled at her over her shoulder. ‘Your own particular brother.’

  Jane returned the smile. ‘I have not forgotten your seeming a long-standing acquaintance, for all your knowledge of the minutiae of my life.’ She returned her attention to the rear of Aiden’s head. ‘Charles and his family have been passing the summer months in Hampshire.’ Jane paused. ‘He gave me the charmed necklace, you understand? His involvement in what is afoot is somewhat complex.’

  Rose eyed Jane warily, her anxiety increasing at the reminder of their situation. ‘Why can’t you tell us what this is about?’

  Jane waved a hand dismissively. ‘Travel is not conducive to the intricacies of conversation, nor is the moment opportune.’ She turned back to Aiden. ‘Charles will escort you to the great house.’

  ‘Chawton House?’ Aiden glanced at Rose. ‘I think I’m quite capable of finding it.’

  ‘Even if it were not the dead of night, you cannot arrive as an unannounced stranger on the threshold, sir.’

  ‘But what about Rose?’

  Rose felt she had an idea where this was going. ‘I’ll be staying with Jane at the cottage, I think?’

  Jane nodded. ‘Most indubitably.’ She addressed Aiden’s back again. ‘We are but four women – now five.’ She glanced at Rose and smiled. ‘It would be impossible for us to accommodate a single young man, unattached to the family. You will find the arrangements at the great house much to your liking, I do not doubt.’

  ‘Right. Fine.’ Aiden shifted in his seat, and Rose cast him an anxious look before turning to stare out of the window. No more words were spoken for the short remainder of the journey, and the car drew to a halt in the small car park in the centre of Chawton just before midnight, for once empty.

  Aiden switched off the ignition and released his belt, turning to face Rose. ‘Are you okay?’

  Rose stared at him, then smiled tremulously. Truth be told, she was more than a little scared now they had arrived. Aside from Jane’s mysterious purpose, was Rose willingly going to travel back in time by more than 200 years? And why had Jane brought Aiden along with them? She’d never met him during her recent stay in Bath.