The Unexpected Past of Miss Jane Austen (ARC)

by Ada Bright

  Thankful for a chance to share what was on her mind, however, she turned eagerly to her father. ‘I was hoping to return here. You know? Once Aiden is safely home? If Jane will help me… Do you think it a good idea?’ She looked at her father expectantly, and his eyes widened. ‘If you are… if you feel it is sensible to introduce me, to reveal our connection to local society to your… my sisters…’ Her voice tailed away at his earnest look. ‘I thought I could come back… for a while.’

  Leaning across, Christopher took her hand. ‘You heal my soul, my dear child. It is beyond my wildest dreams to have found you; to know you might return, that you wish to…’ His voice wavered with emotion, and he swallowed visibly. ‘There is nothing that would please me more.’

  They both smiled tremulously, and he released her hand and sat back in his chair.

  ‘But how do we explain—?’

  He stayed her with his hand. ‘Let us not speculate this evening upon the challenges ahead, my dear. Let it be sufficient for us to have this time together, for it may not arise again for a little while.’

  They talked quietly, conscious of the sleeping form behind them, and Rose relished the moment, cherishing every line of her father’s face, his smile, his expressions and his voice. She listened in rapt attention as he talked about his children – not only the three girls Rose had already come across, but also the eldest, Martin, busy pursuing his studies at Oxford.

  The light slowly faded in the room, though they remained bathed in the warm glow of firelight, and the sudden rattling of the handle of the door to the servants’ staircase startled Rose, who looked at her father in alarm.

  ‘’Tis merely a servant wishing to light the lamps.’ He got to his feet and stretched. ‘But they will be in search of a key and returning. Come.’ He held out his hand and Rose took it as she got to her feet, very aware she had well outstayed the time Jane had sanctioned so kindly.

  She glanced at the fading light outside. Where was Jane? Surely she would have sought her out on her return from the cottage?

  ‘It is a good thing I am chaperoned by you.’

  He smiled as they walked over to the bed to look at Aiden in the dim light. It was hard to determine his colour, but he seemed at ease.

  Christopher placed the back of his hand against Aiden’s forehead. ‘He is not overheated. The rest will be a powerful aid to his recovery. He is strong; I am certain he will be well.’

  Relieved, Rose took a step forward, intending to gently take Aiden’s hand again, but just then the door opened to reveal Jane, who seemed unsettled.

  ‘What is it?’ Could anything else possibly go wrong today?

  The look vanished, and Jane smiled. ‘Nothing of consequence. How is the patient?’

  Rose shrugged. ‘Doing well, I think. My father says the doctor insists he remain still. He says Aiden should not be moved, that bed rest is essential.’

  Jane nodded. ‘He has the right of it, though not so much the gentleman should not but that we could not, for he cannot move of his own volition.’

  Rose glanced over at Aiden. It was probably a good job Jane hadn’t been in the room earlier when he was conscious and rambling. ‘Were you able to send the letter?’

  ‘I have placed it under the floorboard, as is my custom. There was no correspondence from Miss Taylor.’

  Rose was disappointed, but she shrugged lightly in an attempt to dispel it. ‘She probably couldn’t get to the cottage today, or perhaps it was too busy to get access to the floorboard without being seen.’

  ‘This was my thought also. I placed another small bottle of ink and some paper, for she may be running low.’

  ‘Good thinking.’ Rose smiled. Morgan had been rather prolific so far with her letters and probably hadn’t even thought about the nineteenth-century supplies running low.

  Jane walked over to the door to the servants’ staircase and unlocked it, returning the key to its usual place. ‘As you are aware, Rose, I am no apprentice in such matters as these. I shall return to the cottage once we have broken our fast on the morrow to retrieve whatever has been sent. Come, you must leave here now. It is time to dress for dinner.’

  ‘Indeed, Rose. You have tarried long enough. Go with Miss Austen. I will keep Mr Trevellyan company, ensure he wants for naught.’

  With one last look at the still slumbering form on the bed, Rose turned to wave at her father before following Jane from the room.

  The evening passed with agonising slowness for Rose. Her father had taken his leave and returned home shortly before they all sat down to dine. Aiden remained under the care of the housekeeper, who had administered more laudanum and promised to sit with him whilst the family ate.

  When the time for separation after dinner came, Cassandra led Rose and Jane to the drawing room, where they talked of inconsequential things and drank tea until Edward joined them to advise that Mr Lyford had gone on to lodgings in Alton, and they had called on Aiden and he was sleeping.

  Knowing there would be no further opportunity for her to visit him that evening, Rose willingly climbed the stairs behind the ladies when the time came to retire. Charles had re-joined them, assuring her a footman had been appointed the task of checking on Aiden periodically throughout the night and to administer the small remaining measure of laudanum left by the doctor, should he request it.

  By the time Rose closed her bedroom door, her legs felt like lead and her shoulders ached from the day’s worry. Fortunately, she was so exhausted she barely noticed the tedious routine of getting undressed and ready for bed under the guidance of a maid. Her mind felt fuzzy with tiredness and indecision. It was as though a giant, imaginary clock was ticking away the time she had left with her father, the time until she could get Aiden to modern medicine.

  The ticking refused to leave her as she lay in the darkness, following her into the dreams that engulfed her almost as soon as she closed her eyes. Despite her expectations, however, she slept well and long, and rolling onto her side the following morning, she lifted heavy lids and squinted at the drapes on the window. A chink of light was shining through a gap, and she sat up suddenly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her hair a tousled mess over her shoulders.

  How was Aiden? What sort of night had he endured? Rose had to see him… but how?

  ‘Oh, you are awake, miss.’

  Looking over her shoulder, Rose saw the same young maid who had assisted her the night before come into the room via the servants’ staircase, and an idea came to her.

  Tolerating the maid’s attentions as best she could, Rose tried not to fidget in her impatience over not simply being able to go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted, in whatever state of dress she wanted to do so. How she wished she could simply throw on a dressing gown and sprint down the landing to see how Aiden was faring!

  She made the necessary conversation, and counted to thirty after the maid left before quietly opening the door to the servant’s staircase.

  Sleeping in might have done her a favour. Had Rose been earlier, not encountering a maid or footman with hot water or towels might have been impossible!

  She walked along the corridor in confusion. So distracted had she been the day before, she hadn’t really taken in which door led to Aiden’s room. Then, she straightened her shoulders. They were all at breakfast, weren’t they? Besides, this might be her only chance to see Aiden this morning.

  Think, Rose. How far did you walk down here with Jane?

  ‘We didn’t go far at all,’ she whispered, and reaching out, she grasped the handle of the first door at the top of the stairs and turned it, pushing it open slightly, only to pale as her eyes met those of Charles Austen, who lounged by the open window, a cup in his hand.

  Chapter 22

  Rose’s heart was pounding in her breast. Had she miscalculated and gone to the wrong room? Thankful nothing seemed to faze Jane’s youngest brother, she stepped back, about to pull the door shut, when she heard the deep timbre of Aiden’s voice from within the r
oom.

  Pushing the door open a little further, Rose peered in and then looked towards the bed. Aiden was propped against the pillows, a cup of tea on the table beside him and, unaware of her presence yet, seemed to be explaining what a drone was.

  Charles winked at her, then turned to address Aiden. ‘But does one not flee for one’s life, for fear of this flying contraption giving chase?’

  Aiden shook his head. ‘No, no. Some consider them a nuisance, but they are not particularly feared and—’ He glanced in her direction, then blinked. ‘Er, Miss Wallace. Good morning.’

  Rose was speechless, but she stepped into the room and closed the door. There were dark circles under Aiden’s eyes and he was a little paler than normal, but he seemed so much better than she had expected.

  Recalling where she was, Rose curtseyed hurriedly to Charles. ‘Good morning to you both. Captain Austen, I hope you will forgive the intrusion. I—’ She stopped, looking from Jane’s brother to Aiden and back again. ‘I did not—’ Warmth filled her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes. How embarrassing was this? The captain must think her positively wanton!

  ‘Do not concern yourself, Miss Wallace. Jane told me she had shown you an alternative way to satisfy your curiosity with regard to your friend.’ Charles smiled at Aiden and walked over to the tray on the dresser to deposit his cup, then turned around. ‘You will forgive me if I remain? I think it in the best interests of you both for there to be a chaperone present.’

  Rose threw him a grateful look, then flew across the room to the other side of the bed, where she took Aiden’s good hand.

  ‘I can’t believe how much better you look. Are you in much pain? Did you sleep at all?’

  Though his demeanour was reassuring, his eyes were somewhat dulled, but she suspected that was the after-effects of the laudanum.

  ‘I believe I slept.’ He smiled, then winced. ‘Sorry, face is a bit stiff this morning. I might just have been knocked out by the drugs, though.’ He nodded towards the injured side of his body. ‘The pain is bearable at the moment. I’m told Mr Lyford is returning later this morning. Hopefully they can give me something a little less disorientating today. I believe I entertained him greatly, not least expounding on the benefits of aerial photography for an archaeological dig.’

  ‘I’m so… so…’ Rose sank into the chair by the bed. ‘You scared the life out of me yesterday!’

  Aiden’s gaze became serious, and he squeezed her hand. ‘If I could have spared you every moment of it, I would have.’

  Smiling, Rose could feel the weight of her anxiety lifting. ‘I can’t stay long, I must join the others at breakfast, but I just had to see you, to know you were okay.’ She turned to where Charles stood near the fireplace. ‘Have you seen Jane yet this morning, Captain?’

  ‘Indeed. She set out in the direction of the cottage, almost as the sun rose. She will return directly, I am certain.’

  Rose felt a spurt of guilt. ‘I hope she didn’t get up early on my account. I was worried sick last night and getting a message to Morg— my friend seemed so important.’

  Charles smiled and shook his head. ‘Do not concern yourself, ma’am. My sister is rarely to be moved by anything but the most prudent of logic. If she did not wish to walk so early, she would not have.’

  With a grateful smile, Rose turned back to Aiden, but just then the sound of footsteps on the gravel outside floated through the open window, and Charles walked over to peer out.

  ‘Ah, we have a visitor.’ He turned around. ‘For you, I believe, Miss Wallace.’

  Rose got up and hurried over to the window. Jane was crossing the gravel sweep in front of the house, and with her was Christopher Wallace. She swung around to face the room.

  ‘It’s my father.’ How strange those words still sounded, and yet how wonderful! ‘I should go.’

  ‘I will accompany you, ma’am.’ Charles took his leave of Aiden. ‘I will await you outside, Miss Wallace.’

  He stepped out onto the landing, leaving the door ajar, and Rose hurried back to Aiden’s bedside.

  ‘We need to get you back, but—’

  ‘You also need time with your father.’ Aiden smiled faintly. ‘I don’t see any harm in having the singular bragging rights that my broken arm was set by authentic Regency means.’ He laughed, then winced again. ‘Sorry, sore ribs. I suppose that’s a badge I’ll have to brag about silently, as no one would believe me.’

  Rose eyed his bound arm warily, then frowned. Did his fingers look swollen? ‘Is your arm feeling okay?’

  ‘Bit numb, to be honest, but I’d rather that than pain! Go, Rose. I’m being well looked after.’

  ‘Are you sure? I mean, I know I have to go, that I shouldn’t even be in the room, but—’

  ‘Rose, I’m sure I’ll be fine for another day if it’s what you need.’

  ‘It’s not what I need so much as that I would hate you to think your well-being isn’t my first priority.’

  His brown eyes held hers for a moment. ‘I don’t. How could I? Who else would risk the censure of society by scurrying along the servants’ corridor to burst unannounced into a gentleman’s chamber?’ His gaze softened. ‘Only you, Rose.’

  She glanced over her shoulder. The door remained ajar, and she leaned over to place a kiss on Aiden’s cheek, but he turned his head and captured her lips with his own. The sound of a throat being cleared brought a smirk to Aiden’s face as they drew apart.

  ‘Go, before you get into any more trouble than you already are.’

  With a smile, Rose turned and hurried from the room, pausing on the threshold to blow him another kiss, before following Charles along the landing and down the stairs.

  The captain excused himself once they reached the ground floor, and Rose went along to the great hall to greet her father.

  ‘How does the young man fare this morning, Rose?’

  Casting a quick glance at Jane, Rose smiled. ‘Extremely well. Much better than I could have hoped.’

  ‘And I trust you heeded my words from yesterday, and took no risks with your reputation?’

  She bit her lip. ‘Not entirely. I mean, I did heed your words.’ Jane made a small sound, and Rose continued. ‘I was chaperoned by Captain Austen.’

  ‘That is well, then. Now, I came expressly to enquire after Mr Trevellyan, but as the report of his health is so encouraging, I will own to having a second motive for my visit. My wife would like to invite you to call upon us, Rose. This morning.’

  ‘Oh!’ Rose stared at her father. Her relief over Aiden seeming so much better meant she could consider this invitation and all its implications with a clear mind. How challenging might it be, when only her father knew the truth about her origins?

  ‘I can see you are hesitant, but it is plain you wish to safely return the gentleman to a place where he can receive the best of the medical advancements we know exist in the future. If we do not grasp this opportunity, my dear, when else might you properly become known to your own sisters?’

  Jane walked over to Rose’s side, and she noticed suddenly how pinched Jane’s features were. ‘You must go, Rose. The doctor will be calling later this morning, and my brothers will keep Mr Trevellyan company when he is not resting. He would not wish you to turn down such a kind invitation.’

  ‘Rose.’ She looked back at her father as he spoke. ‘We have Miss Jane Austen’s sanction. Will you not come? Remember, no one will have any suspicion whence you came. How could they? They will simply put any… anomaly down to you being the daughter of an eccentric man!’

  Rose laughed. ‘They will find me very eccentric, I fear!’

  ‘Come, you must change your clothes, Rose.’ Jane took her arm, and Christopher bowed and walked over to take a seat beside the fireplace.

  ‘Why?’

  Rolling her eyes, Jane ushered Rose towards the curtained screen. ‘One does not pay calls, especially on such august company, dressed for lounging at home.’

  Glancing at her simple sh
ift dress as they mounted the stairs, Rose smiled. Such distress and fear yesterday, and here she was contemplating the happiest of days. She must tell Morgan…

  ‘Jane, did you check the—’

  ‘Most indubitably, yet no correspondence has come from Miss Taylor.’

  Rose frowned at her tone. ‘Are you…? You sound puzzled.’

  They had reached Rose’s door, and Jane turned to face her. She was smiling now, and shook her head.

  ‘Pay me no mind.’

  ‘She said she would try to check for messages every day, but we can’t predict when a safe moment will come for her to lift the floorboard. If there are many visitors…’ Rose shrugged and opened the door. ‘I will write to her about Aiden later, so she doesn’t worry too much, and I’m sure there will be several notes for me by then.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Jane followed her into the room and walked over to the wardrobes filling one wall. ‘Hmm.’ She studied the few gowns hanging there, altered by Cassandra to fit Rose, then pulled forward a smart green one she had never yet worn. ‘This, I think, with the cream pelisse. It will compliment your hair decidedly well.’

  Rose preferred not to think about her hair which, despite its recent wash, didn’t feel as it should. It felt shallow, with all that was happening, to wish for modern sanitary ware, but how she longed for a good shower and some proper shampoo!

  * * *

  Excited though Rose was at being able to spend more time with her father and to discover her own extended family as a result, she was a bundle of nerves as she was shown into the small drawing room at Baigens. So much so, she might well have turned tail and fled, had it not been for her father’s hand under her elbow, gently urging her forward into the room.

  The collective gaze of its occupants, all of which turned to look at her, was no help in calming her, either. The ladies rose to their feet and all performed a curtsey, which Rose returned as neatly as she could.

  ‘Miss Wallace.’ Mrs Wallace stepped forward, a smile spreading across her face. ‘I am delighted you were able to leave the house and join us for a few hours.’