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Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend

Page 15

by Cora Harrison


  ‘So do I,’ said Harry. ‘I think that it sounds as though this Filby has a reputation for doing things like that. What do you think I should do?’

  ‘Tell my uncle, of course,’ said Jane. She sounded a little snappish, but Harry didn’t appear to notice.

  ‘I was thinking that I might have a word with the lawyer instead.’ Harry didn’t appear to notice Jane’s mood. ‘It’s just that your uncle . . .’ he was addressing both of us, ‘just that he is such a nice, kind man, and I don’t think that he would like to think too badly of anyone, or to do anything underhand like making enquiries of a maid.’

  ‘Could you make enquiries of the maid yourself, Harry?’ I said. He was a good-looking fellow with charming ways, and I thought he would be more likely to get something out of a girl than a lawyer with a threatening manner and legal language.

  Before we parted we had it all worked out. Harry was to chat to the chambermaid, see if she could get her friend to go for a walk with her – perhaps in the gardens by the river – and Harry would meet them by accident, treat her to an ice and get all the information possible from her . . .

  Jane and I have just got ready for the French ball, as Jane keeps calling it. We’re both so pleased that Augusta has not been invited. And she is furious! She tried to get Edward-John to agree with her that we should not go with just Eliza to chaperone us, but Edward-John, who, like most men, finds Eliza madly attractive, refused to agree with her. For once he stood up to Augusta!!! He said that he thought it would be a great opportunity and that, in any case, he had no authority over Jane and it would be a sad thing if she had to go without her cousin’s company. He had visited the Leigh-Perrots this afternoon and they had talked about the ball and had sent a message to say that they were looking forward to hearing all about it. When he mentioned the word ‘Leigh-Perrot’ Augusta became silent. Obviously she had in mind the desirability of Edward-John pleasing his rich and childless uncle and aunt. She even suggested that Rosalie should help us to dress and to do our hair! Thanks to Rosalie, we were ready in very good time. She is a very competent, well-trained lady’s maid, but very starchy, as Jane puts it. We were very quiet as she dressed us both, as if we were a pair of dolls. Jane was thoughtful, and there were none of the jokes and wild fits of giggling that happened when we were getting ready with Eliza for a ball at Steventon. When we were both ready she stood us in front of the large cheval looking glass and said with satisfaction, ‘You will be the two most beautiful young ladies at the Crescent tonight.’

  We both looked very solemn, I thought, as I gazed at our reflection. One dark-haired, dark-eyed girl in a rich daffodil yellow gown and the other blonde with a bluebell gown that matched her eyes. (Jane had received so many compliments about her new dress that she decided to wear it after all.)

  I’ve just asked Jane how long it will be before Eliza calls for us, and she said that it will be at least fifteen minutes – and that Eliza is always late for everything!

  So there may be time for me to write about Harry.

  Harry, I think, knows everything about the Leigh-Perrot household by now. He knows what time dinner is, when it finishes, and that Jane and I always go to our bedroom after dinner. In this household there are so many servants that we have no chores like helping to clear the plates from the table as we do at Steven-ton, so we just go straight upstairs – while aunt and uncle have a little sleep – and we chat. Now that it’s just a matter of Augusta and Edward-John, we rush away as soon as the meal is over.

  And Harry chose that moment to stroll up and down the Paragon on the opposite side of the road. We saw him from our bedroom window.

  We slipped downstairs and beckoned him into the second-best parlour, closing the door quietly behind us.

  ‘I’ve been to see your uncle and aunt,’ said Harry. His eyes widened at the sight of Jane’s new gown, but he was too shy to comment and just continued with his account of our poor aunt. ‘The jailer has housed them in his own house instead of the ordinary prison,’ he told us. ‘I’d say that Mr Leigh-Perrot has had to give him a pretty good bribe for that!’

  ‘How are they?’ I asked.

  ‘They’re in good spirits – Mrs Leigh-Perrot especially. She was telling me a funny story about the jailer’s wife stirring the fried onions with a knife, then licking the knife to clean it before giving it to Mrs Leigh-Perrot. Apparently your aunt was so appalled that she gave her dinner to the dog!’

  Jane remarked that Franklin would be upset if he heard that, and I agreed. Poor Franklin was going around looking as if his world had fallen apart. He was devoted to his master and mistress. It was almost as if they had taken the place of the family that he had left behind in Barbados.

  ‘But that’s not all that I wanted to tell you,’ went on Harry. ‘I was having a chat to the stableman at the Greyhound Inn about the Leigh-Perrots – just mentioning the subject in passing like, and he told me that the chambermaid had an interesting story to tell about it. I asked him to finish grooming my horse for me and gave him sixpence – I pretended that I had hurt my shoulder and I stayed there, rubbing it – I’d guessed that he would like to tell the story, but I didn’t want to scare him off by being too interested.’

  ‘Harry, you are a man of genius!’ exclaimed Jane and Harry blushed scarlet. ‘Tell me that you got the story out of him!’

  ‘Well, he didn’t know too much – just that it was something about Gye the printer owning the shop premises – Miss Gregory’s shop, that is. Apparently . . .’ and Harry blushed again, ‘apparently the printer’s apprentice has some sort of relationship with the chambermaid.’

  ‘What a dissipated place this city of Bath is!’ Jane said these words with an air of such deep satisfaction that I couldn’t stop myself giggling – though I was very, very sorry for my uncle and aunt.

  ‘So I went to ask the chambermaid for some hot water. And when she brought it, I persuaded her to talk. She made me swear not to betray her name.’ And now even Harry’s forehead reddened. And yet there was a glint of amusement in his cornflower-blue eyes.

  ‘Ah,’ said Jane with great satisfaction, ‘I do love secrets, especially those that require solemn oaths of inviolable secrecy.’ She said the words almost breathlessly.

  ‘Well, the chambermaid didn’t exactly tell me anything, but she said that she had heard that the printer Gye, the man who owns the shop, had given presents to the apprentice, Sarah Raines, who works for Miss Gregory. The apprentice saw him put a shilling into a little packet and write the girl’s name on the outside.’

  ‘Bribery!’ Jane and I said the word together.

  ‘We’ll have to get more evidence than that,’ warned Harry. ‘The chambermaid will never swear in court that the printer’s apprentice told her that. And the printer’s apprentice will never give evidence against his master.’

  I asked Harry whether he really thought that it would go to court and he nodded with a quick, anxious look at Jane as if to make sure that she was not too upset. He should have known better.

  ‘A court case!’ exclaimed Jane. ‘Oh, Jenny, I think it will be our duty to be there to support our dear aunt.’

  Jane, I know, was very sincere about her feelings for her aunt, but I must say that I have a feeling that a court case may well appear in her writings!

  ‘I’d better be getting back,’ said Harry. ‘I thought I might drop in on the printer, see about getting some cards engraved – I’m sure my mother would like that as a present from Bath.’

  ‘And get the dastardly fellow to admit his crime!’ said Jane excitedly, and Harry gave her his lovely smile and made ready to leave.

  When we showed him out, Franklin was there at the doorstep. His eyes looked red. I felt very sorry for him.

  ‘What’s the news, Miss Jane?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘They are quite comfortable, staying in the jailer’s house. My aunt is making jokes, Franklin, so you don’t need to worry about them.’ Jane said the words reassuringly, but Franklin didn�
��t look relieved.

  ‘I have to worry, Miss Jane,’ he said almost roughly. I looked at him in surprise. He was always so very polite. He stared back at the two of us. ‘The cook’s been talking to me about it,’ he continued. ‘The punishment for stealing anything worth more than five shillings is death – she might be hanged!’

  ‘What?!’ I got a fright, but Jane patted Franklin on the arm and told him that would never happen to someone of Mrs Leigh-Perrot’s stature in society.

  However, as we went back up the stairs together she whispered to me that Aunt Leigh-Perrot might be transported to Botany Bay in Australia. Apparently they ship criminals out there and leave them there for the rest of their life.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Jane when I exclaimed. ‘Harry and I will find the solution to this. Dirty work is afoot!’

  Jane has just gone to the window and said that she sees Eliza’s hired carriage turning into the Paragon.

  Now she is shrieking at the top of her voice about something.

  Oh! Henry is here!

  I have just sealed my letter to Thomas and asked Jane whether she enjoyed the party at the Crescent. She yawned and said, ‘It will give me some material for my novels.’ I didn’t say anything and after a minute she yawned again and said, ‘They don’t seem real, these French counts, do they? You couldn’t imagine going for a walk through the woods with them . . .’ and then she went off to bed.

  Wednesday, 4 May 1791

  Just after breakfast Jane and I escaped for our morning walk. This time we were ready with the excuse that we wanted to say goodbye to Henry, who was returning to Steventon on the midday stagecoach.

  There was no sign of Harry Digweed, so we walked down to Queen’s Square and rang the bell at Eliza’s door. For a wonder she was up and dressed, her face delicately powdered and the faintest trace of rouge on her cheeks.

  ‘Mes chéries! Come in, come in, mes petites!’ Eliza was in a cheerful mood. But then, with a guilty look over her shoulder, she changed to dramatic, tragic tones.

  ‘How good you are, mes chères petites filles. You have come to cheer up your lonely cousine.’

  ‘Lonely?’ Jane and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. By this time we were both in the drawing room. The mantelpiece above the fire was crowded with innumerable invitation cards; bunches of hothouse flowers, each dangling the name of the presenter, made the room seem like a garden. No one in the whole city of Bath looked less likely to be lonely than Eliza.

  ‘It’s Phylly,’ exclaimed Eliza loudly in heartbroken tones. ‘She is thinking of leaving me, going to Steven-ton. Hélas!‘ Eliza gave a gulp, which had the effect of making Jane giggle, but then Phylly strode out from the inner room, and Eliza stopped abruptly. Phylly was not wearing her cloak or her bonnet.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind, Cousin Eliza,’ she announced solemnly. ‘I’ve decided that it would be improper of me to travel alone with a young man.’

  ‘But he’s your cousin, Phylly,’ wailed Eliza, and Henry gave her a sharp frown, kissed all three of us, bowed to Phylly and declared that he had to be off straightaway. We heard him running fast down the stairs.

  ‘He’s going to be very, very, very early,’ Jane muttered to me as we looked down from the window at her brother’s fleeing figure.

  ‘Les jeunes – life is fun and movement for them,’ said Eliza sadly. But then she cheered up. ‘Let’s discuss the ball,’ she said. ‘Jane, chérie, you’ve made quite a conquest, haven’t you. We might see our little Jane as the wife of an earl some time, Phylly!’

  ‘An earl!’ Jane stared at her. ‘What are you talking about, Eliza?’

  Eliza laughed. ‘Listen to her, Phylly. She spent most of the night dancing with Newton Wallop, the son of the Earl of Portland, no less! And there she is with a face like a baby. He is so taken by her! He hangs on every word that she says. And Jenny, too, you naughty girl! I saw you with the comte. You two were laughing together.’

  Jane and I giggled, but Phylly was not amused. ‘I must say that all this flirting upsets me. What are you young girls thinking of! This sort of behaviour will get you talked about. I wish we could all leave this dissipated city and go back to our quiet country ways.’

  ‘Hélas,’ sighed Eliza, leaving it to our imagination to guess whether she was referring to the loss of the quiet country days or to the continued presence of Phylly.

  ‘We have to leave you,’ said Jane with a solemn face. ‘We have an appointment with a young gentleman in this dissipated city of Bath and we cannot disappoint him. Who knows, but he may fall into despair and end his days in a stream. I wrote a poem about that last night.’ She stood very still in the centre of the room, her toes, in her neat slip-on shoes, turned outwards, her hands clasped in front of her, clutching her reticule, and recited:

  Here lies my friend who having promiséd

  That unto me he would be marriéd,

  Threw his sweet body and his lovely face

  Into the stream that runs thru’ Laura Place.

  Then she bowed slightly towards Phylly. We both raced down the stairs and flew out into Queen’s Square before exploding into a laugh.

  On the way back we met Harry. What a surprise!!

  ‘You’re out early,’ he said.

  ‘Tell us the news,’ commanded Jane. ‘I can see that you have some. I know that look on your face.’

  These two have known each other since they were babies, I thought, looking from one face to the other. They’ve played together, gone for walks together, and spent evenings dancing together in the shabby parlour at Steventon parsonage. They probably recognize each other’s every expression, understand every move.

  ‘Well, I do have something interesting,’ said Harry, his soft Hampshire accent standing out amidst the clipped speech of the inhabitants of Bath, who were hastening downhill for their morning bath in the spa waters or drink at the Pump Room.

  ‘From your friend the chambermaid?’ It was difficult for me to tell from Jane’s voice whether she cared about Harry’s friendship with this chambermaid. Harry, however, gave a small smile and a quick glance at Jane’s high-coloured face.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, nodding. ‘And she got it from her friend, the lady’s maid to Mrs Kent.’

  ‘Who on earth are Mrs Kent and her lady’s maid?’ said Jane impatiently.

  ‘Ah, don’t be rushing me now,’ said Harry with a grin. ‘I’m not a novelist like you, you know. You must give me time.’

  ‘Let Harry tell the story, Jane,’ I said, and he proceeded to tell it very well. It appears that Mrs Kent, a respectable widow living in Bath, had bought four pairs of gloves from Miss Gregory. When she got home and unwrapped the parcel at home she found five pairs of gloves. According to the maid, she was puzzling over how such a thing could have happened when there was a loud ring at her front door. It was Miss Gregory, who straightaway accused Mrs Kent of stealing the gloves. When the widow angrily denied this, Miss Gregory said that she was going to summon a constable. At this stage Mrs Kent got frightened and gave the gloves back to Miss Gregory with a ten-pound note tucked in between them. Jane and I both gasped at this. Ten pounds would feed a farm labourer’s family for a year! However, Miss Gregory took the ten-pound note and then marched away, muttering to herself, according to the lady’s maid. After that no more was heard!!!

  ‘Harry, you must tell the lawyer this,’ said Jane. ‘It’s obvious that this is a plot. They hoped to frighten my aunt and uncle into paying them money. They are in debt to the printer who owns the shop and this plan was concocted to get them out of trouble.’

  Harry hesitated a little.

  ‘I don’t think that will work,’ he said eventually.

  ‘No, you must,’ said Jane. ‘Don’t be shy.’

  ‘What about your brother H-Henry? I thought I would get him to do it; he could pretend that he had found it out for himself.’

  ‘Henry’s gone back to Steventon,’ said Jane impatiently. ‘No, Harry, you must be the one to
talk to them.’

  ‘It’s just that . . . it’s j-just that I think your uncle and aunt won’t take much notice of me . . . They might even think that I was meddling in their a-affairs,’ stammered Harry, obviously uncomfortable.

  I told Jane that I saw what Harry meant. I felt sorry for him, but someone like Jane, who wasn’t shy, could not understand how Harry was feeling.

  Harry went on: ‘Anyway, I don’t think that the lawyer would believe me. He’d probably tell me to mind my own business.’

  ‘I wonder, could we go and talk to our uncle and aunt – pretend that we had overheard something?’ I suggested.

  ‘No, that wouldn’t do either. Mr and Mrs Leigh-Perrot told Henry yesterday that on no account are either of you to be allowed to go into the prison. She said it would never do for girls of your age. She said the same thing to your brother, Miss Jenny.’

  ‘I know what we’ll do!’ Jane was suddenly all lit up with excitement. ‘I’ll write a letter, an anonymous letter, and you can drop it in through the lawyer’s door at darkest midnight, Harry. Then the lawyer can claim all the credit it for it – which is a shame really, when it was your cleverness, dear Harry – you should be rewarded.’

  ‘I don’t want any reward.’ There was a smile on Harry’s face, and I had a feeling that Jane’s words, especially the ‘dear Harry’ part, were all the reward that he had ever wanted.

  Jane rushed me back home, dying to get to work on the letter and assuring Harry that it would be ready for him after our three o’clock dinner.

  But when we came in through the hall door Augusta was there, all dressed up in a brand-new gown, trimmed with all sorts of lace billowing around her hips and falling into folds below her fur jacket and enormous fur muff.

  ‘There you are,’ she exclaimed when she saw me. ‘I’ve been sending here and there, looking for you. I do declare you are running quite wild! Now go upstairs and get changed into something decent. What have you to wear for a visit?’

 

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