Adventures with Jane and her Legacy 01 Jane Austen Ruined My Life (29 page)

I shook my head. "No."

He reached out, took my hand in his. His touch felt good and right, and I had to fight to keep from throwing myself in his arms. It would have been so easy to do that, to let him rescue me. To make the same mistake again.

"Emma, don't do this. You can stay here with me," he said, his gaze locked on mine. "You can marry me. We can make a new start. The university provides housing in the fall. I can probably find you a teaching position."

"But I'd be making the same mistake I made with Edward." I don't know how I managed it, but I pulled my hand free of his. "I'd be trying so hard to find the happy ending again that, as someone with a weird kind of wisdom once told me, I'd be missing out on the happy beginning."

"I love you, Em."

Last time, Edward had broken my heart for me, but this time, I was breaking it all by myself. "I love you too, Adam."

"This makes no sense."

"It does. Just not in the usual way."

"I still don't understand."

"I know. But Jane Austen would."

He looked up, as if appealing to God for some help. Actually, he probably was. "So if you still don't want to be with me, why did you ask me to come all the way down here to Hatchards?"

"I didn't say that I don't want to be with you. I said I can't
be with you. Not yet." I paused, swallowed, clutched the copy of
Persuasion
in my hands. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I need more time, Adam."

"A decade wasn't enough?" he said with a hoarse laugh.

"Apparently not." The fact that he wasn't whirling on one foot and stalking away was a testament to what a good man he was.

"How much time are we talking? A few weeks? A few months?"

"I have no idea."

He frowned, his face darkening. "Em, I can't wait around anymore to see if you'll someday decide it's okay for us to be together."

"I know. So I'm not asking you to." I thought of Jane Austen and her Jack. Yes, it would be wonderful if all love stories turned out like one of Austen's novels, but real life didn't work that way. Not my real life, anyway. Not Jane's, either.

"What will you do back in the States?"

"I talked to my parents before I called you. My dad thinks he can get me a teaching position at a local private school. And ..." I paused, not sure whether to share the other part of my plan. But Adam deserved to know. "I'm going to start writing again."

The begrudging look of approval in his eyes gave me the boost of courage I needed so badly at that moment. "I know it's probably a pipe dream," I continued, "but I have to try. It may be too late, or I may not be any good at it, but it's a part
of me, Adam. And I have to honor that, and see where it leads me."

My father would have said it was God's will. Jane Austen would have said that a novelist's heart couldn't be denied. But all I could say was that at long last, I had found the one thing that might put me on the right path. And I had Jane Austen, my parents, Adam, and maybe even some divine plan to thank for it.

"I owe you so much," I said, but he held up a hand in protest.

"You don't owe me anything, Em."

"I'm sorry this isn't the happy ending you wanted."

He flashed a small, tight smile. "Well, you never know. Maybe our story's not over yet."

Tears in my eyes, I returned his smile. "I hope not. I guess time will tell."

He reached for my hands again. "Do we have to keep avoiding each other until you leave?"

I shook my head. "No, although I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to chuck me under the nearest double-decker bus."

He paused as if considering the idea, and I laughed. "Adam--"

And then he squeezed my hand. "I just want you to be happy, Em. That's all I ever wanted. Well, almost all."

"Ditto," I said.

And then he kissed me for the second time, right there in
Hatchards, in front of the Brontes, Dickens, Shakespeare, and everybody.

And I knew that while the path I'd chosen wouldn't be easy, it would be okay. I had Jane Austen to thank for that.

In the end, I couldn't bring myself to visit Winchester, the Hampshire town where Jane Austen was laid to rest in the famous cathedral. I knew that her family had placed no mention of her writing on her monument, instead praising her for "the benevolence of her heart, the sweetness of her temper, and the extraordinary endowments of her mind." In fact, she was accorded the honor of burial in the cathedral not because of her novels but because of her family's ecclesiastical connections. She was the daughter, sister, and friend of clergymen.

She'd arrived in Winchester a short time before her death in hopes that a physician there could give her some relief from her suffering. Instead, she endured her final days far from the little cottage at Chawton, before at last finding the solace she must have craved. Modern scholars speculate that Austen suffered from Addison's disease, a failure of the adrenal glands thought to be the result of an infection. She died at the age of forty-one.

Two novels--
Northanger Abbey
, the first one she'd completed many years before, and
Persuasion
, her last--were not published until after her death. For many years, her brother Henry's short biographical sketch, published as a preface to the two novels, was all that was known of her life.

After I fled Mrs. Parrot's house, I didn't want to think of Austen as she had been at the end of her days--frail and wracked by illness. I much preferred to remember the biting wit of her letters, the magnificence of her novels, her courage in the face of devastating loss, her devotion to her family. I left England a few days after my last disastrous visit to Stanhope Gardens. Adam and Anne-Elise went with me to the airport. We stopped at a mailbox on the way, so I could mail my letter of apology to Mrs. Parrot. I wanted her to know, despite my abrupt departure, how much I appreciated her faith in me.

On the flight home, my seatmate turned out to be an editor from a New York publishing house. By the time we touched down on American soil, she'd invited me to send her some pages from the novel I was working on. Obviously, I didn't tell her that there weren't any actual pages yet. I think Jane would have approved.

My parents were waiting for me at the other end, and I was grateful for their support. I had come full circle, but I also had the chance to begin again. It was, in the most unexpected way, the happiest beginning I could have imagined.

As far as I know, the character of Jack Smith is fictional, as are Mrs. Parrot and the Formidables. The wardens of St. Nicholas Church, Steventon, don't still keep the key inside the yew tree, and with apologies to the house of Chanel, no such dress as I described exists. These elements are all poetic license on my part.

What is true are the basic facts of Jane Austen's life. She was one of eight children of an Anglican clergyman, her family supported her in her writing endeavors, her novels were published anonymously, and she never married. She did make those entries in the parish register, but as far as we know, they were a girlish prank. Her father did indeed take in pupils to educate alongside his own sons, and not all of their names are known. Other than the small, half-finished watercolor by her sister, Cassandra, no formal portraits of Austen exist.

In later years, Cassandra did speak to a niece about a man
whom Jane had met at the seaside, a man whom she greatly admired and hoped to see more of, but he died before they could pursue their acquaintance further. And Cassandra did, as far as we know, destroy the bulk of her sister's letters before her death.

Jane Austen's circumscribed country life and her sister's censorship have kept her a rather veiled literary figure. For many years, biographers and scholars, beginning with her great nephew James Austen-Leigh, presented her as a quiet, reserved, proper woman, but one has only to read her novels to realize that she was nothing so bland. Her genius, her craft, and her timeless prose are no secret, but thanks to Cassandra's scissors, most other aspects of her life will probably remain a mystery. I can only hope that her admirers, of which I am but one of many, may be forgiven for their speculations, and that this novel, and others related to Jane Austen, will promote a continued interest in her life and her work.

Beth Pattillo

February 2009

1. Emma Grant, the main character, has always believed she deserved a happy ending; in fact, she thinks that Jane Austen promised her one. Do you think our culture promotes this ideal too much? Why or why not? What is your definition of a happy ending? Do you think this book has a happy ending?
   

2. What do you think of Emma's choice to return home and begin again, rather than to remain in England? If you were in her shoes, what do you think you would have done?
   

3. Emma and Jane Austen are both the daughters of clergymen. How do you think that influenced them? Give examples from this novel or from one of Jane Austen's novels.
   

4. In some ways, Jane Austen conformed to the standards of her time and in others she defied convention. Do you believe that men and women should be held to different standards of behavior? Why or why not?
   

5. Were the Formidables right to keep Jane Austen's letters a secret? What would you have done in their position?
   

6. Emma's father taught her that God had a plan for her life. Do you believe this is true? If so, how specific is God's plan? How much choice do we have in the matter? If not, do you believe that life is a matter of random choices and consequences? What led you to this belief?