‘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 . . .’
Jane is just so clever, I thought as I tried to swallow some chocolate pudding – less to please myself than to please Franklin, who was watching me so anxiously with his kind eyes.
Now she had turned to our uncle and was questioning him about how chocolate was made. Jane, of course, had realized that our aunt, though sympathetic, was sharp and authoritative. She would not take kindly to anyone telling her what to do, let alone a young girl of Jane’s age. During all the long explanations about cocoa beans, and about an Irish man called John Hannon who invented the first chocolate mills, Jane never once glanced towards Mrs Leigh-Perrot.
I did though, as I struggled to eat, and I could see her thoughtful expression. I noticed also how Mrs Austen shot a quick appraising glance at her sister-in-law and then lowered her eyes to her own plate.
Towards the end of the meal Mrs Leigh-Perrot, without a word of apology, rose abruptly and crossed the room towards her writing desk. There was a moment’s silence as she drew out a sheet of paper and dipped her quill in the ink, but then Jane asked whether cocoa beans had shells and, if so, what happened to them. Franklin and Mr Leigh-Perrot started to argue about this and by the time they had solved the question Mrs Leigh-Perrot had sealed her letter, written the address and handed it to Franklin with instructions to take it to the post as soon as possible.
‘It was to Edward-John,’ said Jane when we went up to our room – with instructions from our uncle to put on warm wool spencers under our cloaks and to wear woollen stockings.
‘Are you sure?’ I asked, doing up the waist button of my spencer.
‘Certain!’ said Jane, getting her muff from her travelling bag. ‘I had a look when I bent down to tie my lace.’
So I’ve quickly written all of this into my journal.
I wish I could stay in the house and write my thoughts about Thomas, but it wouldn’t be fair to Jane.
In any case, I suddenly feel more cheerful. I’ve seen for myself how very rich the Leigh-Perrots are – number 1, the Paragon is just their residence in Bath; they also have an estate and fine manor house in Berkshire.
I told myself that Edward-John (and Augusta) would agree to anything if they thought they might inherit all this wealth.
Tuesday, 26 April 1791
It’s raining this morning so I have time to write down everything about our experience at the gala night at Sydney Gardens.
This is how our evening began:
‘James, you must have a sedan chair. If you walk down all the way to the gardens with that gouty leg of yours, you won’t be fit for anything. It will spoil your enjoyment.’ Mrs Leigh-Perrot sounded really worried about her husband when she said this.
‘Nonsense, nonsense. As if I would allow four beautiful ladies to walk while I get carried! That would be a fine thing for a gentleman to do.’ My uncle sounded resolute, but I had noticed how he limped rather heavily.
‘Why don’t you both go in sedan chairs and I’ll walk down with Jane and Jenny? It’ll only take us fifteen minutes at the most. That will be the best thing,’ said Mrs Austen.
‘Let’s have sedan chairs for everyone. It will be fun for the girls.’ Mr Leigh-Perrot sounded so cheered by the idea that Franklin smiled happily. Mrs Leigh-Perrot didn’t look quite so pleased. Sedan chairs, I knew, cost sixpence to hire, and it did seem a terrible waste to have them for two healthy energetic girls who could easily walk or even run down the hill to the riverside gardens.
‘Oh, Uncle,’ said Jane. ‘You are the kindest man in the world. How did you know that of all things this is what I wished for? How can a novelist write about her heroine in a sedan chair if she has never experienced such a thing?’
‘Well, that settles it,’ he said, looking as pleased as if someone had given him a present. ‘Franklin, run down to the chair house in Queen’s Parade and order five chairs.’
I don’t know about Jane, but I think I would have preferred to walk. The chair looked very beautiful on the outside, but it was stuffy and a bit smelly inside and I didn’t like the way the chairmen raced along the pavements, knocking people out of the way and bouncing me from side to side. Still it was quite exciting, I suppose. Perhaps I’m just having what Jane calls ‘a fit of the dismals’.
When we got out of our sedan chairs at the entrance, Eliza and Phylly were coming down the hill.
Eliza was tottering on her high heels, trying to keep up with Phylly, who was striding along briskly – I’m sure she had a stout pair of boots under her frilly gown which, I suspect, belonged to Eliza.
‘Well, girls, did you enjoy that?’ Our uncle had struggled out of his chair and was distributing sixpences to the chairmen.
‘It was lovely, Uncle,’ I said feebly, but Jane did better.
‘It elevated my thoughts to a high level,’ she assured him, and then gave him a quick kiss.
‘Shall we go and see the illuminations?’ she went on, tucking her arm through mine, while Phylly interrogated the Leigh-Perrots on their reasons for hiring sedan chairs for everyone and reminded them of how much it cost.
‘Where’s the waterfall?’ Jane was spinning around in so many directions that she almost turned me giddy.
‘This is what I call romantic!’ Her voice was loud, and
in spite of the band playing in the distance many people around heard her. I could see smiles on their faces, and I had to smile myself. The gardens did look so wonderfully romantic, with lights everywhere turning the colours of the trees, grass and flowers into strangely deeper and more mysterious versions of their everyday selves.
I suggested that we should go and see the grottoes, but Jane didn’t answer. She had gone over towards the direction posts and was studying them.
‘There it is, over there; the waterfall is down that pathway.’
‘Jane,’ I said sternly. ‘You haven’t made an assignation with a young gentleman, by any chance?’
‘Quick,’ hissed Jane, taking no notice. ‘Let’s go before we have to endure Phylly’s company.’
The waterfall was spectacular. Lamps illuminated it – turning the water to shades of green and blue and a rosy red. Beside it was a tall, blond young man, looking more at home than the last time we met in his usual dress of riding boots, breeches and a well-worn olive-coloured riding coat.
‘You go on, Jane, I must fix my shoelace.’ I would give them a few minutes together – just as Jane gave me my private time with Thomas. I was so busy with my laces that although I heard the words, ‘Good evening,’ I didn’t take much notice of them, and it was only after Admiral Williams repeated the phrase, ‘Good evening, Miss Cooper,’ that I realized that he was standing over me.
He was as upright and starchy as ever. Beside him was Elinor, looking very pale, and on her other side was Sir Walter Montmorency. The governess was slightly behind the other three.
‘May I help? Have you a problem?’ His voice was cold, as always. No one would ever think that his nephew had told him that he was betrothed to me. There was no acknowledgement of that in his aloof, rather distant manner. It was as if I was just some distant and not particularly interesting acquaintance. I was still bending down, fiddling with my lace, but I didn’t stand up. If I did, I might have to join them and be escorted back to Mrs Austen and the Leigh-Perrots. And then I would betray Jane.
Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend Page 10