The Tutor's Daughter
Page 41
“You know it is.”
Tightening his hold around her waist, he lifted her off her feet and whirled her around the narrow office, accidentally knocking a glass vase and her china cup from the tea tray.
In a flash, Henry released her and lunged for the gold-rimmed cup, catching it just as the vase hit the floor and shattered.
Emma stood stunned, hands pressed to her mouth.
“That was close,” Henry said, rising with the rescued cup. He blew out a relieved breath. “That would have ended my chances, I imagine.”
She looked down at the broken, insignificant vase, imagining her cherished cup in fragments of green and gold. But instead of the grief she expected, she felt an unexpected bubble of mirth rising up in her. Of freedom. She chuckled. “I would have married you anyway, clumsy fellow, even had you broken it.”
He lifted the cup to his eye level and inspected it once more. “You know, this poor cup needs a partner. When we go to Venice on our wedding trip, I shall buy you a matched set.”
She smiled. “I’d rather have the other wedding gift you once promised me.”
His dark brows rose. “Oh?”
“You once vowed that if I ever married, you would perform the dance of the swords at my wedding breakfast.”
A slow grin stole over his handsome face. “I was hoping you forgot.” He set down the cup and stepped closer. “Do you also recall what I promised to wear while dancing it?”
The brazen man didn’t so much as blush, but Emma felt her cheeks heat at the thought.
His eyes twinkled as he drew her close once more. “Though perhaps we ought to save that particular performance for our wedding night.”
Emma’s cheeks burned all the more.
The door creaked open, and her aunt popped her head in, expression uncertain. “I heard something crash. Is everything all right?” Jane looked from the broken vase to Henry, his arm around Emma, to Emma’s smile. Surprise and delight brightened her aunt’s face.
For a moment they all stood there, the smiles of aunt and niece widening as they looked at each other. Scores of unspoken words passed between them, enough words to fill a book.
“Better than all right, from the looks of things,” Jane said, dimple blazing, and slowly closed the door, leaving them alone once more.
Emma leaned up and kissed Henry again.
She was certainly glad she’d had the pleasure of drinking from that cup. But she would not have chosen it over the man in her arms for all the world.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading The Tutor’s Daughter. I hope you enjoyed it. Now for a few historical notes.
For anyone tempted to think poorly of parents who would send away a child like Adam Weston, I wanted to mention my inspiration for this character’s situation. One of Jane Austen’s older brothers was cared for, along with a mentally disabled uncle, by a family who lived in a nearby village. I had read a little about this before, but a recent visit to the Jane Austen Centre in Bath, England, brought this little-known fact back to the forefront of my mind. The museum guide told us that young George Austen was sent to live with a foster family due to some mental or physical impairment, though the extent of his disability is not known with certainty. (Some suggest he had epilepsy and may have been deaf and unable to speak as well.) There is no record of George visiting his family after he was sent away and none of Jane’s existing letters mentions him. However, the Austens did pay for his upkeep, and Jane’s father wrote of him, “We have this comfort, he cannot be a bad or a wicked child.” Some authors have criticized the Austen family, and others have defended them, reminding us that, given the era, the Austens behaved humanely and responsibly toward George, who lived peacefully and comfortably for seventy-two years, far longer than Jane herself. I tend to agree.
Also note that the Mr. (Henry) Trengrouse mentioned in the book was a real person from Helston, Cornwall. After witnessing the drowning deaths of over one hundred men during a shipwreck, he devoted his life and fortune to the invention of lifesaving equipment, such as his rocket line apparatus.
Another real person mentioned in the book was John Bray.
As is often the case, truth can be stranger—and more difficult to believe—than fiction. With that in mind, if you had difficulty believing that a man on horseback could rescue shipwreck victims, I am happy to tell you that I based that scene on the firsthand account of John Bray, who actually performed such a rescue as recorded in his An Account of Wrecks, 1750–1830 on the North Coast of Cornwall. For the descriptions of shipwrecks, wreckers, and law regarding them, I relied very heavily on this slim volume, not printed until after Mr. Bray’s death.
John Bray lived his entire long life around the area of Bude, Cornwall, the inspiration for the fictional coastal village depicted in this novel. My husband and I had the pleasure of visiting Bude during our second trip to England—a serendipitous, unplanned stop in our whirlwind tour of Devon and Cornwall. From our hotel on the north side of the harbor or “haven,” I spied a large red-stone manor high on the cliff opposite and instantly thought, “I want to set a book there.”
When we asked a local woman, she told us the place was called “Efford.” Further research revealed that the house was Efford Down House, and built by the same family who once owned Ebbingford Manor, an even older manor house nearby. I based fictional Ebbington Manor on a combination of these two historic houses.
My husband and I enjoyed walking up the cliff and along the scenic coast path to take in the wild, windswept views. Atop this headland stands an octagonal tower which inspired my Chapel of the Rock. It is actually a former coastguard lookout, known as Compass Point, built in 1840. From this vantage, we could also view the rocky breakwater extending across the harbor below. (According to Ecclesiastical record, there had once been a chapel out there, where a monk kept a fire constantly burning to warn of the rocks beyond. But that chapel washed away centuries ago.)
There is something thought-provoking and reverent about the stone octagon high on the headland. Something soul-stirring about looking out its narrow slit windows toward the endless sea beyond. If you ever have the opportunity to travel to Cornwall, I hope you will visit the lookout. In the meantime, I invite you to visit my Web site (www.julieklassen.com) to see a few photos of this beautiful place.
Before I close, I would like to thank my husband, who bravely drove on the “wrong” side of narrow roads lined with stone walls so I could see the southwest of England. Thanks, honey.
Fond appreciation goes to Cari Weber and Raela Schoenherr for their brainstorming input and insightful reviews. To Connie Mattison, special education teacher, for reviewing the Adam sections. And to Mark Sackett for suggesting flower varieties for a Cornwall garden. I would also like to thank my pastor, Ken Lewis, my agent, Wendy Lawton, my editor, Karen Schurrer, and as always, my readers. I appreciate you all.
Discussion Questions
How would you compare education by private tutor with other forms of education you may have experienced (homeschooling, classical academy, boarding school, public school, etc.)? Would you have enjoyed being taught by a tutor? Would it have been an effective way for you to learn? Why or why not?
Do you have anything in common with the main character, Emma Smallwood? (i.e., Do you like to make lists? Have a place for everything and put everything in its place? Like to be in control and are reticent to ask for help?) How would you say Emma changes during the course of the novel?
Emma admits that, since her mother’s death, she rarely prays because she has come to believe that God no longer answers her prayers. Have you ever struggled with your relationship with God after a loss or when it seems as though your prayers go unanswered? What would you say to someone struggling in this way?
What role does Emma’s teacup from Venice play in the novel? Why is it significant?
Have you, like Aunt Jane, ever refused or postponed a romantic relationship for career (or other) reasons? Have you ever resisted
other change in a similar way? How can we discern the best choice to make when we come to such points in our lives?
Imagine if you, like Emma, had grown up with a houseful of young men coming and going. How do you think this might have affected your upbringing and perspective, your relationships with both men and women in later life?
How would you diagnose Adam’s “disorder,” or would you? Were you surprised to learn people like Adam were often raised elsewhere during this time period (including one of Jane Austen’s brothers)? Is it understandable that different people will care for a loved one in different ways even in this day and age? What are your feelings about that?
Were you surprised by anything you learned about Cornwall, shipwrecks, “wreckers,” or the lack of lifesaving equipment in the early 1800s? What did you find most interesting?
Did you have a favorite character in this story? Why did you like him or her? What thoughts did his or her situation prompt about your life?
How would you characterize the book’s theme or message? What spoke to you most in the story?
Julie Klassen loves all things Jane—Jane Eyre and Jane Austen. A graduate of the University of Illinois, Julie worked in publishing for sixteen years and now writes full time. Three of her books, The Silent Governess (2010), The Girl in the Gatehouse (2011), and The Maid of Fairbourne Hall (2012) have won the Christy Award for Historical Romance. Julie and her husband have two sons and live in a suburb of St. Paul, Minnesota.
For more information, visit www.julieklassen.com.
Books by Julie Klassen
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From Bethany House Publishers
Lady of Milkweed Manor
The Apothecary’s Daughter
The Silent Governess
The Girl in the Gatehouse
The Maid of Fairbourne Hall
The Tutor’s Daughter
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
Website: www.bethanyhouse.com
Facebook: Bethany House