Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend (4 page)

‘You’ll have to marry a lord, Jenny,’ said Henry. ‘That would be the only thing that would compensate Edward-John for the loss of your fortune.’

I told him that Jane was the one to marry a lord; that I would be happy with my captain from the navy. ‘And won’t Lavinia be jealous,’ I said to Jane, and we both giggled so
much that Henry heard the noise of the galloping horses before we did.

Eliza and James were the only passengers on the stagecoach when it drew up in Deane Gate Inn yard. James, Jane’s eldest brother, jumped out, and before he greeted us he
carefully handed out Eliza, who looked even smaller than usual standing between her two tall young cousins.

‘Jane! Jenny!’ She kissed us both, before standing on her toes and giving Henry a quick peck on the cheek.

‘Oh, but Pug!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’ve left my darling Pug. James, get Pug out immediately and let him meet his cousins.’

With a slight grimace James dived back into the carriage and emerged, rather red in the face, with the smallest and ugliest dog I have ever seen. James looked so funny holding him that I found
it hard to keep a smile from my face and Henry laughed aloud.

‘Suits you, James,’ he said mockingly. ‘The latest accessory for an Oxford fellow – one pug.’

‘Here,’ said James impatiently, thrusting the pug into his sister’s arms.

‘Oh, he’s sweet,’ she crooned, and Eliza beamed with satisfaction.

‘I’ve got James to write some additional lines in the play. Pug will act in it too. I’m sure that Mrs Malaprop would have had a pug.’

Jane opened her mouth to say something and then gave a hasty glance at James and shut it again. Eliza was busy giving instructions about hatboxes and the two young men were quite busy. We were
all loaded up by the time we followed the post-chaise down the hill to Deane, and I whispered to Jane not to say anything to Eliza for the moment. I didn’t really want my love affairs
discussed in front of James. He was never as friendly to me as his brothers and sisters were.

Mr Austen was delighted to see Eliza; she was the daughter of his only sister and he was very fond of her. Mrs Austen too was in very good humour, though she looked rather dubiously at
‘Puggy’. She and Eliza enjoyed each other’s wit and jokes were soon flying.

Jane and I went upstairs to write our weekly letter to George, Jane’s handicapped brother, who was now boarded with a family some distance away. Since George could not read, the letter was
mostly pictures, which I had to draw, as Jane was not good with the pencil. I drew a picture of Pug and then one of the stagecoach with Eliza and James getting out of it. George was always
interested in stagecoaches, and he would like this.

‘Let’s go along and help Eliza to unpack,’ said Jane when we had finished and folded over the piece of paper and stuck it down with a blob of scarlet sealing wax.

Eliza welcomed us with open arms. ‘Come in, come in,
mes petites
,’ she said, as usual mixing up bits of French with bits of English. ‘And, Jenny, tell me all. What is
happening with your
amours
?’

‘You tell it,’ I said to Jane.

‘In one word,’ interrupted Eliza, ‘did he propose, the gallant captain,
hein
?’

‘Well,’ said Jane dramatically, ‘first there was a lovers’ quarrel. Jenny wrote to him saying that she never wanted to see him again. And then Captain Williams revealed
himself to be a hero. You just can’t imagine, Eliza.’

I walked over to the window while Jane told Eliza the whole story of the misunderstanding between Thomas and myself and about his heroism at the stagecoach robbery. He did sound so
magnificent!

‘So . . .’ breathed Eliza. ‘Come and tell me, Jenny,
chérie
. Did he propose?’

I came back over and sat on the bed beside her and she kindly put her pug on my knee. I must say that it made things easier to be patting the comic little dog while I told the sad story about
Edward-John’s refusal of the offer of marriage.

Eliza drew in a deep breath and nodded her head solemnly. ‘This needs thinking of,’ she said. ‘I will talk to
mon cher oncle
about this. There are legal steps which
could be taken. If your legacy were to be taken out of Edward-John’s hands and placed in your uncle’s since you are now living with him, then the objections might disappear. I have a
lawyer, who is very much in love with me, who may be able to help in this matter. I shall see him when I go to Bath.’

Jane looked at me and I looked at her. A little thrill of excitement passed through us. We could read each other’s thoughts in our eyes. Neither of us believed that this lawyer could do
anything – after all, my brother was my guardian. It was the mention of Bath that was exciting. We had considered asking Mrs Austen to take us to Bath, but to go with Eliza would be such fun.
Jane clasped her hands together.

‘Oh, Eliza, would you take us to Bath, Jenny and myself? Oh, please – we’d be no trouble to you.’

Eliza pursed her lips and looked a little concerned.

‘And we’d take care of Pug for you,’ persisted Jane.

Eliza laughed. ‘It’s not that you will be any trouble to me, Jane,
ma chérie
. It’s just that I fear your mother may not trust me with you two. But
nous
verrons.
Let us concentrate on the play now. You help me to unpack and then we must go out into the barn. James is eager for the rehearsal.’

Thursday, 14 April 1791

Jane was awake before me and was leaning over my bed when I opened my eyes. Her face was very near to mine, her hazel eyes sparkling and her dark curly hair still neatly tied
in two plaits. She gave me quite a start.

‘I know what you must do, you and your gallant captain.’ She sounded the way she always does when some elaborate story has got hold of her mind.

‘What?’ I asked sleepily.

‘You’ll have to go to Gretna Green!’

‘Where?’ I stared at her stupidly.

‘Wake up, Jenny,’ said Jane impatiently. ‘You must know where Gretna Green is. Haven’t you read about it in novels? Don’t you know that once you reach the border
between England and Scotland you can get married without asking permission of any parent or guardian? A blacksmith at Gretna Green can marry you. I thought of trying it myself so that I will have
the experience for my novels, but now if you do it, I shall go with you as a sort of chaperone and not have the bother of making up my mind whom to marry.’

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sat up and told her that I didn’t think that Thomas would like that and that I couldn’t imagine him doing something like going to Gretna Green.
‘He’s more likely to fight it out with Edward-John,’ I added.

‘A duel!’ Jane’s eyes sparkled with excitement. ‘Pistols at dawn! Or swords! I definitely think swords. They would be much more romantic.’

I asked her whom she would go to Gretna Green with if she were going to make a runaway marriage (partly to distract her from the idea of a duel – I didn’t want to even think about
that).

‘I think Newton Wallop would be the most fun,’ pronounced Jane. ‘Anyway, he is the son of an earl and I do want to make a splendid match.’ And then she added
thoughtfully, ‘The elopement might even be gossiped about at court, and what more could a girl want?’

I got out of bed and shivering a little began to wash with the cold water in the basin on the washstand. Now that we were almost to Easter, Mrs Austen had declared that fires in the bedroom were
an extravagance so instead of picking a can of nice hot water from the hob by the fire, we had to wash in cold.

While I was washing, Jane scribbled vigorously on a piece of paper, her quill dipping rapidly in and out of the ink pot, and she was shaking sand over the result by the time that I dried
myself.

‘Listen to this,’ she said. ‘You can stick it in your journal afterwards. It’s another few words for my Augusta story. I think it will be my best novel by the time I have
finished. Augusta will be a clergyman’s wife and my heroine will despise her. I think I will call my heroine “Emma”. I like that name. It seems cool and clever,
somehow.’

I pulled on my stockings while she read it out. When she had finished she gave it to me to stick it into my journal. I must say that I think she is very clever. I don’t know how she gets
these ideas.

It was short, but it did make me giggle. I don’t think I would ever have the courage to say something like that to the real Augusta.

‘A letter for you, Jenny,’ said Frank as Jane and I came into breakfast. He had already been up to Deane Gate Inn for the letters delivered there every morning by the mail coach and
was busily distributing them. He put the sealed and folded sheet of paper by my plate and then moved on to give Henry his numerous letters.

I’m sure my face showed my thoughts when I saw the square firm handwriting on the outside of the sheet. I couldn’t believe that I had got a letter from Thomas already. He must have
written almost as soon as he arrived back at Southampton.

‘Jenny, my dear,’ said Mr Austen quietly. ‘Please give your letter to your aunt.’

I stared at him. I could not believe it. He, so gentle, so slow to interfere, was actually asking me to give my beloved letter to Mrs Austen. I made no move to obey, just held my precious letter
clenched within my hand. Mrs Austen stared stonily ahead with an air that said plainly: this is nothing to do with me.

‘My dear,’ Mr Austen got to his feet, ‘I think you and I should just have a quick word with Jenny. Go on with your meal, the rest of you. No, Jane, you stay there.’

His voice was unusually firm for him, and to my surprise Mrs Austen, usually the one in authority in the household, got to her feet as meekly as I did and followed him into his study at the back
of the house.

‘Dearest Jenny,’ he said affectionately, taking me by the hand when I had closed the door to the study. ‘Try to understand. Although we love you as we love our own children, we
have to remember that your mother left your brother as your guardian, not us. Now your brother has declared that he will not countenance an engagement between you and Captain Williams and that
means that you must not correspond or meet with the captain – except as a friend of the family of course. Will you promise me that you will not do this while you are under my roof?’

I thought for a moment and then I told him that I would obey his orders. He looked a little surprised at that, almost as if he were half sorry that he was not able to use all of his prepared
arguments.

‘And will you agree to your aunt opening this letter and judging whether it is a suitable letter for a young girl in your position to receive?’

Without a word I handed it to my aunt, who looked annoyed at her husband’s scruples. Nevertheless, she was probably curious, because she broke the seal and opened it quite quickly,
spreading out the page.

A tiny forget-me-not slid out and I picked it up quickly before anyone else could touch it. Mr Austen was looking out of the window in a slightly embarrassed way and did not see the flower, but
Mrs Austen gave a quick grin. She scanned the letter quickly and then handed it to me.

‘Perfectly correct in every way,’ she said. ‘Read it aloud to your uncle, Jenny.’

So I read aloud in a colourless voice, the letter in one hand and the forget-me-not clutched in the other: