‘Lovely, thank you. How is Aid— Mr Trevellyan?’
‘Quite well. My brother,’ Jane waved a hand towards Charles, ‘has kept him company as best he could, but the gentleman spends much of the time asleep. We hope he will be up to the journey home before first light in the morning.’
‘Sleep is healing, Miss Wallace.’ Cassandra smiled reassuringly at Rose. ‘Now, tell us about your day.’
Pushing aside her melancholy, Rose settled next to Jane and, her spirits rising as she recalled the day with the Wallace family, she was soon recounting her experiences to her keenly interested companions.
* * *
Something woke Rose in the early hours on Wednesday, and she rolled over onto her back, thankful to have left her dreams behind.
The evening had passed so slowly, with no opportunity for her to visit Aiden, but perhaps it was for the best. He needed his rest if they were to travel before dawn broke. An owl hooted out in the darkness, and Rose pummelled her pillow before falling back on it and closing her eyes. Torn between concern over Aiden and the pain of leaving her father, she tried to think only of the time so recently spent with her new family, but as she tugged the counterpane up to her chin, preparing to indulge herself, the hurrying of footsteps could be heard, and she sat up. What was going on?
There was no one in sight when she peered out onto the landing and, pulling a shawl around her shoulders, she stepped out, intent on following the sound of voices, when she was almost run over by a maid carrying a bundle of soiled linens.
‘Sorry, miss.’ She looked quite flustered, and Rose frowned.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘Oh, miss, ’tis the young gentleman. The doctor is with him now.’ She bobbed a quick curtsey and hurried to a service door further along the landing, soon disappearing from sight with her burden.
Rose’s heart was beating painfully hard as she hurried towards Aiden’s room. This couldn’t be happening. Aiden couldn’t be suffering just as she was reflecting on what an enjoyable day she’d had.
She fetched up outside his room, trying to calm herself. She didn’t know what the problem was yet. She must not overreact.
Rose placed her hand on the doorknob only for the door to swing open, and she stood aside as the doctor came out, placing his hat on his head and turning to Edward, who accompanied him.
‘I shall return at first light. The Express should be with Baillie by then. He should be here within a half day. Let us await his opinion on the case.’
Edward inclined his head at Rose, his face serious, and led the gentleman away along the landing, and Rose stepped into the room.
Chapter 24
The captain stood at the foot of the bed as a maid tidied the sheets following the doctor’s examination. He looked up as Rose entered the room, and she hurried over to stare down at Aiden.
‘What has happened?’ Her voice came out as a whisper.
Aiden was no longer propped up. His colour was ashen and his skin damp with sweat as she took his good hand. He didn’t open his eyes, but gave her fingers a light squeeze.
‘I’m fine, don’t worry.’ His voice was faint.
‘As if that were possible!’ She looked over her shoulder at Charles, not letting go of Aiden’s hand. ‘Does he have an infection?’ There was no way she would let them bring leeches into the room!
Charles shook his head. ‘No, for which we are to be thankful. Mr Lyford believes there to be a problem with how the arm is setting. As is often the case on a first attempt, there is some nerve damage, and it seems the binding was too tight and hampered the circulation to Mr Trevellyan’s hand. The examination was thorough and painful, disturbing the unset bone and also his wound, hence the gentleman’s pallor.’
Rose’s eye was drawn to the arm, no longer strapped to the piece of wood but lying listlessly on the counterpane. The fingers protruding from the bandage were white, almost waxy, in appearance and much more swollen than earlier. ‘Then what is to be done?’
Charles walked round to stand on the other side of the bed. ‘Mr Lyford says it may help if the bone is adjusted but he wishes for a second opinion.’
Rose winced. ‘What are the risks?’
There was no reply, and she looked over at Charles, her insides churning with anxiety. ‘Tell me, Captain Austen. I must know.’
He eyed Rose warily for a second, then nodded. ‘As you wish. If it does not work, he may lose the use of his hand.’
Rose’s hand shot to her throat, and her heart, if at all possible, increased its pounding. ‘No!’
At a sound behind her, she looked round to find Jane had come into the room, along with her sister, both of them bundled into dressing gowns and looking somewhat dishevelled.
‘We heard a disturbance, then met Edward on the landing.’ Jane’s gaze drifted to Aiden, then away. ‘The doctor told him they must attempt to restore the flow of blood to the hand, Rose. If they do not, gangrene can set in.’
Not wanting to think about the outcome of that, though she knew full well what it meant, Rose turned back to Aiden, whose eyes opened slowly.
‘Not keen on the idea of amputation without anaesthetic, to be honest.’ He turned his head on the pillow and looked at Rose through pain-filled eyes. ‘How was your day?’
Rose shook her head in disbelief. He was asking after her day? ‘I will tell you all about it once we have you home and well.’
His eyes closed again, and she gently released his hand and turned to look at Jane.
‘We have to get him home. Immediately, Jane.’
For a moment, Jane held Rose’s gaze, her face pale. Then, she nodded. ‘There is something I must do beforehand.’ She looked over her shoulder towards the window. ‘We must go under cover of darkness, and he is not easy to move. Let us hope he rallies by nightfall.’
Rose wanted to shout at her, demand they went right now, but she knew it was futile. The all-important thing was to get Aiden home. A couple of hours would make no difference either way, and with modern medicine and procedures, this was surely an easy fix?
‘May I trouble you for some more parchment? I must let Morgan know what’s happening. It’s just as well she didn’t pick up the letters yesterday. Perhaps we can catch her this morning before she sees them.’
‘Come with me, Miss Wallace.’ Cassandra took Rose gently by the arm and urged her over to the door, and Rose looked back at Aiden to see the maid tending to him, wiping his forehead with a damp cloth.
‘I will remain, Miss Wallace.’ Charles’ face was more serious than Rose had ever seen it, and so unlike him, she didn’t know how to take it. Was he as worried as she was?
‘Yes, of course. Thank you.’
Cassandra opened the door and ushered Rose through it, Jane following in their wake. She only hoped Morgan would be able to get the necessary help lined up for their arrival.
* * *
Rose was pacing up and down in the great hall, trying not to look at the clock every time she passed. Where was Jane? She should have gone with her, but she hadn’t wanted to leave the house in case Aiden asked for her.
Fetching up beside the window, Rose stared down the drive. What had Jane needed to do? Surely nothing was more important than getting this message to Morgan and then taking them home as soon as possible?
‘Miss Wallace.’
She turned on her heel. Cassandra had come into the room and walked over to join her by the window. ‘Here, take a little wine.’ She handed the glass of dark liquid to Rose. ‘It will help calm you, for you have a long day ahead.’
‘Thank you.’ Rose sipped the drink, even though she didn’t really want it. ‘Where do you think Jane is?’
She turned around and looked out of the window again, just as the clock on the mantel struck the hour.
‘It is eleven o’clock! The museum will have long been open.’
‘Come, Miss Wallace, be seated. My sister will not return any the sooner for your watching for her.’
&n
bsp; Another half hour passed, during which Cassandra attempted to engage Rose in conversation. She did her best to oblige, unwilling to cause offence, but her mind was flitting between the room upstairs where Aiden lay, the cottage, and Morgan and the surgeon flying along the turnpike from London with his medical bag, prepared to do whatever he chose to Aiden.
When the door finally opened, Rose stood up so quickly she almost stumbled, hurrying across the room.
‘Oh, thank goodness.’ She had seen the letters in Jane’s hand. ‘And were you able to send the latest?’
Jane looked evasive but said nothing, merely holding out the letters to Rose, who took them eagerly. Then, she frowned and looked up at Jane.
‘These are both mine to Morgan, and this is the new letter. Jane, what is going on?’
‘To make long sentences upon unpleasant subjects is very odious.’ Jane took a seat next to her sister, and Rose walked back and sank onto the sofa opposite. Jane did not sound her confident self.
‘You don’t think…’ Rose drew in a sharp breath. ‘Something has happened to Morgan!’ She put a hand to her head. ‘Of course. She is unable to retrieve anything because… because… she’s been banned from entering the museum! Oh, Jane, that must be it! If she was caught pulling up a floorboard in your bedroom, no wonder that has happened.’
But what if it was worse? Rose knew Morgan would go to great lengths for her, perhaps even ignoring warnings not to return to the museum… what if she’d been arrested?
Jane shook her head. ‘I wish it were so simple. I, like you, thought at first there must be a reason why Miss Taylor could not access the letters. I had done as I always did, placed the charm under the floorboard last night.’ For a moment, Jane’s voice sounded normal again. ‘But neither the letters nor the ink I placed there earlier had gone.’
Rose wilted. ‘It’s okay. It just would have made it easier on Aiden if she had a car waiting, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be with you, we can knock on someone’s door and ask to use the phone if my mobile is dead – and it’s quite likely to be after several days in the boot of Aiden’s car.’
To her surprise, Jane didn’t seem appeased by this, getting to her feet and coming over to sit beside Rose.
‘I thought as you at first, but then another notion struck me.’
A coldness seemed to take hold of Rose, trickling rapidly through her veins, and she shuddered.
Cassandra looked from Rose to her sister with a frown. ‘Jane? What is it?’ Then, her eyes flashed. ‘You have not… you promised me!’ Cassandra got to her feet. ‘Did I not warn you, when you were so delayed returning that time?’
‘We think so very differently on this point that there can be no use in canvassing it.’
‘Jane!’
Rose’s gaze moved from Cassandra to Jane, who let out a huff of breath.
‘Very well, I have continued to use it.’ Jane shrugged, but Rose could tell from her face that she wasn’t feeling remotely flippant. ‘I had a duty to go.’
‘To your situation at the museum.’ Cassandra rolled her eyes. ‘’Tis a strange duty indeed.’
‘The reason I mention it is not to put it forward to debate. It is that, when I tried to come back—’
The door opened and Edward and Charles entered the room.
‘Mr Trevellyan sleeps. We thought it best to let him rest for the present.’ Edward walked over to the tray on the console table. ‘Would anyone care for a glass?’ He held up the decanter, and Rose was tempted to say she’d take the lot.
‘We shall all be in need of a glass when Jane finally tells us what is so disturbing her.’ Cassandra got to her feet and walked over to her brother, who topped up Rose’s glass and poured one for Jane.
‘Brandy for me, Edward, if you would be so kind.’ Charles settled into a chair near the fireplace, his gaze fixed on his sisters. ‘You look quite out of sorts.’
Jane received the glass from her sister and took a sip. ‘It is fortunate you have joined us, Charles, for there is something I must impart to Rose and you may have some enlightenment for us.’
Taking the proffered glass from Edward, Charles settled back in his seat. ‘I am quite at my leisure.’
Placing her glass on a side table, Jane got to her feet and walked towards the windows before turning around to face them, her hands clasped before her.
‘I believe – forgive me, Rose – but I suspect the charm has lost its power, has been depleted.’
Rose stared at Jane. Her heart was racing and her head was starting to buzz with her fears.
‘You mean…’ She swallowed in an attempt to relieve a sudden restriction in her throat. ‘You mean the power that moves you through time… it has run out?’
Edward had filled his own glass now and came to sit in the chair opposite his brother. ‘We have not the pleasure of understanding you, dear sister. How can this… this charm have lost its power, and how would you know of it?’
‘Dear Rose.’ Jane ignored her brother, and walked over to where Rose sat, almost scared to move in case she missed something. ‘Though I wished you to come back with me, my conscience reproaches me, for I fear I have brought you – both of you – here only to suffer the same fate you helped save me from when first we met.’
The silence in the room following this pronouncement seemed louder to Rose than any concert she had ever been to. Jane smoothed her skirt and continued. ‘Charles, when you acquired the charm, did the lady speak any words to you, should it cease to hold its power?’
Rose looked earnestly at Charles. Here would be the answer; surely there would be a way to recharge it?
Charles took a slug from his glass and got to his feet, walking over to the console table. ‘Not at all. Apart from the instruction it must pass directly from my hand to yours, as it had from hers to mine, there was no indication of aught else.’
He topped up his glass and turned around to lean against the table, his gaze resting on Rose with sympathy, then moving to Jane.
Rose really wanted to say something, to react, to express the mingled fear and frustration spinning unhelpfully through her mind.
‘But how do you know there is nothing left… no power to it? Is it just because the portal appears not to be working?’
‘Miss Wallace is correct. Supposition is perhaps unhelpful at this early stage of research,’ Edward offered. ‘What evidence do you have of the charm’s inaction?’
Jane glared at her brother. ‘It is not mere supposition. Do you think me a simpleton?’
Edward glared back. ‘It is hard to think you the most rational of creatures, when you have been doing what you have.’
‘But perchance the charm is simply being… mischievous. It has caused problems before, has it not?’ Cassandra looked hopefully at Edward, but her brother had his gaze fixed on Jane.
‘What sort of problems?’
Chapter 25
Jane sighed. ‘It seemed of little enough significance. Since bringing Rose and Mr Trevellyan here, it has not worked as smoothly as before. When I returned from taking Miss Taylor and Mr Malcolm, I came by way of another year, I know not which.’
Cassandra let out a huff of breath. ‘And what about the pond?’
‘The duck pond?’ Charles laughed. ‘Do tell.’
‘When she finally returned that day, she was some feet from where she had left in the future… and decidedly wet.’ Cassandra didn’t look at all amused. ‘And she promised she would use caution.’
Jane, however, turned to Rose. ‘I was obliged to go today, and it seemed as opportune as any to try and see Miss Taylor if I could, to ascertain the problem.’
‘You told me not to worry!’ Cassandra was staring at Jane, disbelief written across her features.
Jane raised her chin, but then she shrugged lightly and settled in the seat next to Rose.
‘With hindsight it appears reckless.’ She took Rose’s hand, but it felt little comfort in the circumstances. ‘When the charm did not return me dir
ectly the first time, it seemed of little consequence. Then, when I needed to go to the museum in Chawton, I—’
‘Museum? What museum? There is no museum in Chawton!’ Edward looked to his brother, then to Jane. ‘Preposterous! Why on earth would there be a museum in such a small place? Who would ever visit it?’
Rose almost blurted out that tens of thousands of people visited it every year, but bit her lip. She wanted the conversation to revert to the charm, not how Jane had impressed the tourists with her knowledge of all things Austen.
‘Dear Brother! You will be astounded to learn of the fame that is to come to the cottage – it becomes a museum because I lived there.’
Edward stared at Jane open-mouthed, then closed it with a snap, but before he could speak, Charles did.
‘And what? What happened?’
‘It malfunctioned. It took me three attempts to reach the year thirteen.’
Charles grunted. ‘And now the charm does not work at all?’ He drained his glass again. ‘How do you know this?’
Jane tightened her hold on Rose’s hand. ‘I thought perhaps to take the uncollected letters personally to your friend, or at least gain some understanding as to why she had yet to retrieve them herself. I took the charm out and placed it about my neck, but nothing happened. Nothing.’
Jane pulled the cross and chain from its pouch inside her reticule and laid it on the table, and Rose stared at it, her throat tight and her insides churning. Was Jane right? Had the charm truly stopped working? Were she and Aiden stuck here, in 1813, and never going back?
* * *
Edward had moved everyone to the library, instructing the servants they were not to be disturbed unless the doctor arrived, and Rose walked into the room, her mind racing, hardly able to take in what was happening. She looked around as Edward locked the door and turned to fix his sister with a stern eye.
‘Jane, you have already been trapped in the future. It is a miracle you were able to return at all.’
‘And now we are trapped in the past,’ Rose whispered.
The Unexpected Past of Miss Jane Austen Page 22