Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend (15 page)

BOOK: Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend
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Abigail brought the lamp. Mrs Austen said something about seeing them by daylight, but Eliza, who had now joined us, leaving Jane contemplating her daffodil yellow, shook her head firmly.

‘My dearest aunt, not daylight –
Quelle horreur
! These gowns are meant to be seen by candlelight. Fetch two candles,
ma petite
,’ she said to Abigail, who handed
the lamp to her mistress, curtsied, flew down the shop and returned with two candles and a lighter.

‘Don’t set the place on fire, Madame de Feuillide,’ said Mrs Leigh-Perrot frostily but Eliza took no notice.


Regarde-moi,
Jenny,’ she said. ‘Let me see those eyes. Ah,
ravissante
!’

I could feel myself getting rather pink in the face. Everyone was staring at my eyes.

‘Another lamp, if you will be so kind,’ murmured Eliza, and the shop owner sped off.

Before she was back, however, Eliza had taken down one of the muslins. The colour was soft, not pale – and yet not the blue of the sea, nor the blue of the sky, not a dark blue, nor a
cornflower blue; this blue glowed warmly and richly with the faintest hint of green in the intensity of its colour.

Mrs Leigh-Perrot seized the lamp and held it in front of my face as Eliza draped the muslin over my shoulder, letting it flow down in front of me.

‘Perfect match,’ murmured Mrs Austen. ‘Well done, Eliza.’

I said nothing. I was lost in the colour. I could almost smell the bluebells that Thomas had been talking about.

‘Darker or lighter for the panel in front? What do you think, Jenny?’ asked Eliza.

‘Have it lighter,’ advised Jane. ‘I’ll be a daffodil and you’ll be a bluebell. Bluebells are lighter in the centre.’ Then she whispered so that only I could
hear, ‘Thomas will think you quite ravishing in this!’

I smiled at her, but suddenly I felt like crying. Thomas would not be at the ball on Saturday. He would be away on his ship. He would not see me in my bluebell gown. After tomorrow, I would not
see him for perhaps a whole year.

And now I am sitting in our bedroom in number 1, the Paragon. The material for the two gowns has been delivered to the dressmaker, our measurements have been taken and we will
go for our first fitting on Tuesday morning.

Tonight we are going to a concert. I’m not sure that I want to go.

Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish that Thomas were here. I miss him terribly. I can’t wait. I wish that I could know how his talk with Edward-John has gone. Surely, surely, surely it will go well
and I can be happy again.

Jane has just given me this piece of paper to stick in my journal, and I must say that it has cheered me up! It’s some more about Phylly.

Monday, 25 April 1791

I hate my brother! I hate my brother! I hate my brother! I hate my brother! I hate my brother! I HATE my brother!

I wish that I had been there in Bristol yesterday and that I had been able to tell him how I felt. How could my mother have left him as my guardian? She must have known what he was like and how
much he was under his wife’s thumb. She should have asked the Austens to look after me. Or even the Leigh-Perrots.

Thomas told me that he was thinking of challenging Edward-John to a duel, but that he thought he shouldn’t in case I was fond of my brother. His hand touched the sword by his side when he
said that, and I felt a shiver run down my back.

‘Not that,’ I said hastily. Was I fond of Edward-John? At the moment I thought not, but he was my only brother and my nearest relation.

‘But what are we going to do about Edward-John?’ I asked him. I had not cried, not yet. My eyes were dry. I just had a terrible pain in my head and a feeling of
despair.

Thomas just shrugged. He looked as though he did not think that Edward-John was of much importance. That somehow or other he would persuade him to agree, or force him to agree.

‘You don’t understand,’ I said hopelessly. ‘You think it is just a matter of repeating arguments, that Edward-John will eventually come to his senses.’

‘Of course I don’t understand!’ Suddenly he was angry and he glared as if at an unseen enemy before him. ‘I can’t understand how any brother could treat a sister
the way that your brother does. He has no interest in you, no care for you.’

‘It’s not so much Edward-John,’ I said despairingly. ‘It’s Augusta. You don’t understand that, drop by drop, Augusta is feeding poison to him: I must not get
married: they must not relinquish control over my little fortune; that’s what she makes him think.’

‘Nonsense,’ he said impatiently. ‘The man can’t be as great a fool as that. What’s fifty pounds a year? I told him that he’s welcome to keep it. Wait till you
see what I can bring back from a voyage, I said to him, but that sister-in-law of yours seemed to think that I was insulting them and used it as an excuse to finish the conversation. I thought it
best to leave while I still had control of my temper.’

‘She didn’t even care that she could retain my dowry?’ Now I really began to despair. That, at least, might have been understandable, but now I knew that Augusta hated me so
much that she would do anything to make sure that I wasn’t happy. ‘She’ll never give in,’ I said. ‘You don’t understand . . .’

Thomas was suddenly angry. ‘No, my darling,’ he said hotly, ‘you don’t understand. There is nothing in the world that will stop me from making you my wife –
especially not your hen-pecked brother and his harridan of a wife! I shall make my fortune, and you and I will not care for any disapproving relative.’

He took me in his arms and kissed me and I smiled as I kissed him back. . I could not spoil our last moments together. We were alone. Jane had made a big fuss of going into the best parlour with
us, and then slipped out by the side door to the stairs when no one was around. It had been nice of her, and I should not waste the time. Soon he would go and I would not see him for another year
at least.

‘Let’s not talk any more about my idiot brother,’ I said. And when he stretched out his arms to me, I went into them instantly.

He took me upon his lap and cradled me in his arms. One arm was around me and the other was on my cheek, one broad thumb pushing my hair from my face. And then he kissed me.

Was it a minute?

Or was it an hour?

I don’t know, but I remember that when Mrs Leigh-Perrot’s voice sounded in the hall we broke apart.

Then the other door opened and Jane slipped in, only a minute before the Leigh-Perrots and Mrs Austen entered by the door from the hall.

And then all the formal goodbyes were said and Thomas kissed my hand and I smiled and wished him a good voyage and everyone else did the same.

And then he was gone. And I won’t see him again for a whole year.

I waited until he had gone before running up to our room, throwing myself on my bed and breaking out into a fit of wild weeping which frightened me.

If I had not had Jane, I don’t know what I should have done!

She kept everyone from the door, telling them that I wanted to be by myself. She sat by me, stroked my hair and brought me drinks and bathed my eyes with lavender water and then, when I began to
yawn and turn my head towards the pillow, she drew the blinds and seated herself at her writing desk just by the window.

I have drawn a picture of her there, as I could see the outline of her face against the dim light, just before I fell asleep.

And now there is no more to be said.

This morning when I woke with the same pain in my heart I no longer sobbed, but my eyes were sore and my throat was dry.

I struggled through breakfast, but I could feel the tears welling up again, and Mrs Leigh-Perrot gave me a few drops of laudanum to calm me and I stumbled up the stairs back to bed. I had a
terrible feeling that I might never see him again. One of my great-grandmothers was supposed to have the gift of second sight. I hope I haven’t inherited it from her.

When I woke again I knew by the light that it was late afternoon. Jane was still there and she was still writing. I sat up in bed and looked across at her.

‘What are you writing?’ I asked. I was surprised to find that my voice sounded the same. I had seemed to have gone down into a dark pit, but somehow I had come up again. I was still
Jenny. I was still in love with the most handsome, the bravest and the kindest man in the world.

‘I’m making a list,’ said Jane. ‘While you were asleep Uncle Leigh-Perrot has been tiptoeing to the door every half-hour, wanting to know what he could do for you. He had
a lot of strange suggestions. He keeps asking Franklin’s advice.’

In spite of my misery, I had to laugh. I could just imagine our uncle pacing up and down and consulting with Franklin about what was to be done about his niece. Jane laughed too and looked
encouraged to see me smile.

‘Well, here’s what he has been suggesting. You can stick that in your diary:

‘I told him that you would do better to sleep for the afternoon, but I suggested that we would have a good supper tonight and then visit the fireworks at the Gardens. That
was Franklin’s suggestion also. He tells me that they are mighty fine.’

‘You go; I’ll stay.’ I struggled out of bed and looked at my face in the looking glass.

‘I think you should go,’ said Jane, watching me anxiously. ‘If you don’t go, I shan’t enjoy it, neither will our uncle, neither will Franklin. We will all worry
about you at home here lying on your bed. Come on, come down now to supper. I’ve heard the clock strike seven. Isn’t it nice to be in a house full of timepieces of all sizes and
shapes?’

And before I could argue Jane had brushed my hair, dabbed under my eyes with a little of the rosewater that had been left in a Wedgwood bowl for our use, and taken a fresh muslin gown from the
hanging press and slipped it over my head as if I were her little sister.

‘Come on,’ she said, and blew out the candle.

Jane was in her element at supper. She had made a new plan.

‘Of course, Jenny’s brother, Edward-John, must think very highly of you, ma’am,’ she assured our aunt as she smiled at Franklin to put some more chocolate pudding on her
plate.

Mrs Leigh-Perrot preened herself. ‘Well, I must say that he does always pay attention to what I say. Visits often also.’

‘I thought that,’ said Jane demurely. She caught Franklin’s eye and glanced towards the cream jug. Obligingly he poured a generous allowance on top of her second helping of
pudding. ‘Jenny was saying that he is always quoting you – sometimes even in his sermons,’ she continued with that bland expression she always wears when telling an outrageous
lie.

I wondered what Jane was up to and saw Mrs Austen shoot her a suspicious glance.

‘I was thinking about that today, when we heard he was being so unreasonable about Jenny’s marriage to such an eligible young man as Captain Thomas Williams.’ Jane sounded as
prim as a middle-aged spinster. She even pursed her lips, though slightly spoiling the effect by then licking some chocolate from the corner of her mouth. ‘I was thinking . . .’ she
went on, putting another large spoonful of chocolate pudding in her mouth, but still managing to talk through it, ‘I was thinking that if anyone could influence him towards the right opinion
on this, it would be someone whom he respects so highly – someone like you . . .’

BOOK: Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend
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