Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend (18 page)

Miss Taylor said nothing for a moment and then just said, ‘Very well, dear, as you please. Where would you like to walk?’

‘I don’t mind, Miss Taylor,’ said Elinor. Now she spoke in her usual dull tones and we didn’t get much out of her. Even when Miss Taylor stopped to talk to an
acquaintance, telling us to walk on, Elinor said nothing. Jane and I grew tired of trying to get her to talk and started to chat to each other. Jane was making jokes about a man in such black
clothes that she reckoned that he must be going to his own funeral. I was trying hard not to giggle when I caught sight of Elinor’s face under her bonnet. She didn’t look shy, she
didn’t look bored, she didn’t have that same dull expression that she wore customarily; she looked jealous!

I had guessed already that she was jealous of me because of Thomas. But perhaps she was jealous that I was Jane’s friend, or even that Jane was my friend. Or that we were having fun and
she wasn’t; perhaps that was it. Certainly she was a strange girl, perhaps a bit spoiled and at the same time neglected.

‘Jane!’ I said suddenly on an impulse. I stopped and rubbed my ankle and then continued, ‘You’ve forgotten that you promised to call on Cousin Eliza this morning to give
her a message. Miss Taylor, would you accompany her? I know that my aunt and uncle do not wish her to be alone in Bath, and unfortunately I seem to have twisted my ankle. Perhaps Elinor won’t
mind keeping me company and we will sit on this bench and wait for your return.’

I calculated that it would be at least twenty minutes before Jane and Miss Taylor arrived back from Queen’s Square so perhaps I should be able to get Elinor to talk in that time. As soon
as they disappeared I seized the opportunity and asked her whether she loved Sir Walter Montmorency.

‘It’s none of your business,’ said Elinor in furious tones. ‘And none of your friend’s business either, coming along like that and interrupting a private
conversation.’

‘We were only trying to help,’ I said. ‘If anyone saw you, it would have been bad for your reputation.’

‘I told you . . .’ Her voice rose so high that a man passing looked at her in a startled way. ‘I told you that it is my business, not yours,’ she repeated in a lower
voice. ‘I don’t interfere in your affairs; why should you interfere in mine?’

‘I think of you like a sister,’ I said quietly. ‘When—’

‘Well, don’t!’ she burst out. ‘And as for your getting married to Thomas, you can think again. The admiral has plans for him and what the admiral wants, he gets. Thomas
won’t dare stand up to him. You’ll see; Thomas will marry the daughter of the Earl of Portsmouth.’

Perhaps she was right, I thought. I sat on the bench miserably looking across at the square.

‘That’s my uncle’s plan anyway,’ she muttered. She seemed a little uncomfortable now. After a minute she said in quite a gentle way, ‘Does your ankle
hurt?’

‘It’s not too bad,’ I said, giving it a rub. I felt rather deceitful, but she was looking at me in a much friendlier way now. I didn’t think it was true that Thomas was
frightened of the admiral or that he would be willing to be dictated to by him. He was just not that kind of man.

‘Was your uncle very strict with you both?’ I asked that question with interest. Thomas and Elinor seemed so different that it was hard to believe that they had been brought up by
the same man. I felt that I wanted to know more about the admiral.

‘Very,’ said Elinor. Suddenly she seemed more willing to talk. Perhaps that outburst had got rid of her feelings of resentment and that had done her good. ‘He used to beat
Thomas – but not me,’ she added hastily as she saw the horror in my eyes. ‘But I was always terrified that he might. I think I annoyed him. He liked Thomas much better than he
liked me. I never remember him being kind to me or praising me for anything.’

‘But you had Thomas, didn’t you?’ I felt very sorry for her. She had spoken so bleakly.

Elinor shrugged. ‘Not often. He went off to naval college when he was twelve and then into the navy as a midshipman. Sometimes I didn’t even see him in the holidays because he would
go to stay with a friend. He was always very kind to me though, and he took me away from that awful boarding school. He had a big fight with the admiral, my uncle, about it, and my uncle was
furious. Thomas engaged Miss Taylor, but my uncle then insisted on paying her wage, so she just thinks about pleasing him.’

She stopped for a moment and then added, ‘And now Thomas wants to get married, so my uncle would like me to be married also.’

I told her that she didn’t have to get married and that if Thomas and I ever managed to get married then she could live with us, but I don’t think she believed me. And then Miss
Taylor, followed by Jane, came trotting down the hill and rushed Elinor away.

I’ve just asked Jane what she thinks about Elinor and she looked interested but didn’t reply – instead she started scribbling on a piece of paper. When she
had finished she handed it to me.

‘Stick that in your journal,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll write a story about someone like her some day. I’ll call her Fanny. I always think that is a silly sort of
name and she will be a silly sort of girl – creeping around like a little mouse and saying yes to her uncle no matter what he says. This is what someone says about her.’

‘Who’s the “I” in that?’ I asked as I glued it into my journal.

‘The baronet, perhaps,’ said Jane doubtfully. ‘Or perhaps it’s a man who really loves her. Or perhaps it is another girl. A sort of fun-loving girl . . . I haven’t
made up my mind yet how the story is going to go. I know what Fanny/Elinor is going to be like though – very annoying to someone like me! I can’t stand people who are too good. Pictures
of perfection make me feel sick and wicked.’

I told Jane that I didn’t know why she found Elinor annoying – ‘After all, you never stop talking, so I would have thought you would like someone silent.’

Jane made a face and said that Elinor didn’t even laugh at a joke. I knew what she meant, though I teased. It’s very hard to make conversation with someone who just says yes or no
– and even the best jokes fall flat if someone doesn’t laugh at them.

‘Do you think that she is in love with Sir Walter?’ I really wanted to have Jane’s opinion on this as I found it very hard to make up my mind.

Jane shook her head firmly. ‘She doesn’t look like you when you are with Thomas, all dreamy and adoring; she just looks scared.’

I suggested that we could, perhaps, get her to fall in love with someone else. And then I got a sudden inspiration. Perhaps, I thought, Elinor’s jealous look at Jane was inspired by a love
of Harry.

‘What about Harry Digweed?’

‘Certainly not!’ said Jane sharply. ‘What a union! Harry Digweed and Elinor!’

‘It would be a good match for him. Think of it. She has a dowry of fifty thousand pounds. He seemed fond of her and concerned about her that night at Sydney Gardens. He was even prepared
to fight a duel on her behalf.’

‘A girl like Elinor is unworthy of being peculiarly, exclusively, passionately loved by Harry Digweed!’ said Jane dramatically. After a minute she said pensively, ‘I wish Harry
would go back to Steventon. What is he doing hanging around Bath for so long?’

Before I could answer she said abruptly that she was going downstairs and she slammed the door quickly after her so that I could say no more.

I wonder . . .

Wednesday, 27 April 1791

This morning we went for our second fitting. The gowns were looking beautiful but I won’t write about that now because something very strange happened afterwards.

Jane and I had noticed that Mrs Leigh-Perrot was not as generous and open-handed as her husband; in fact, she was quite careful about money. Instead of buying herself a new gown for the ball on
Saturday – she had worn all of hers at least twice to the Assembly Rooms during the season – she had decided to get an old gown remade in a more modern style.

It had been a rich gown in its day. It was made from brocaded silk – coloured green with red flowers. Originally it probably was a wide, full-skirted gown, such as Mrs Austen wore, the
sort of gown that, ten years ago, would have had panniers under it to hold it out at the sides, but now the dressmaker had cut away most of the fullness, just leaving a loose back falling in
straight folds. It had an under-gown made from muslin, which showed at the bosom and wrists. Jane and I signalled with our eyebrows that we did not think much of it, but Mrs Leigh-Perrot seemed
very satisfied and asked the dressmaker to wrap it up.

So then we set off, Mrs Leigh-Perrot, an upright stately figure in her well-fitting green pelisse, carrying her gown in her basket, and Jane and I trying hard not to dance down the pavement. It
was so exciting to be in Bath. I was feeling cheerful and full of energy. This morning Mrs Austen had whispered to me that Edward-John and Augusta (of course) were coming on Friday and going to
stay for the weekend. She patted me on the shoulder with a smile on her face, and I knew she thought that my troubles might be over. It was one thing a poor clergyman like Mr Austen, with his nine
children to provide for, asking Edward-John to consent to my marriage with Thomas, but another thing completely for the wealthy and childless Leigh-Perrots to ask the same favour.

And then Mrs Leigh-Perrot stopped in front of a shop in Bath Street. It wasn’t as nice a shop as most of the ones on Milsom Street. It had a faded, run-down look. The windows were dirty
and the paint peeling. I remembered the place – it was Miss Gregory’s shop, where Phylly eventually consented to choose a bonnet, after we had tried every other shop from top to bottom
of the city of Bath.

‘Let’s go in here, girls,’ said our aunt. ‘I want to get some black lace to trim the gown. My maid will be able to do it for me.’

‘Why is she going into that horrid shop?’ whispered Jane as we followed the stately figure in.

I frowned at Jane and shook my head. Iwasn’tgoing to risk offending Mrs Leigh-Perrot now, just two days before Edward-John arrived. In any case, it was her own business where she chose to
buy lace. Probably it was a few pence cheaper there than elsewhere!

She spent a long time choosing her black lace, doled out the one pound, nineteen shillings that it cost and then insisted that it should be wrapped up in the same parcel as her gown.

So the man assistant took away the brown paper package to his own counter, undid the string and wrapped up the card of black lace and did up the parcel again while Aunt Leigh-Perrot inspected
all the other cards of lace – black, white, pink, green and blue – to be certain that she had got the best bargain that the shop could offer.

Jane got bored with all of this and told Mrs Leigh-Perrot that we would wait for her outside on the pavement.

When we got out we saw Eliza chatting to Monsieur Baddy just outside the lending library. He had taken a small flat package from his pocket, which he presented to her. Eliza did a quick little
dance of joy on the pavement and he kissed her hand with a very grand air and went on down the street smiling happily to himself.

Then Eliza waved to us and we crossed the street.

‘
Madame
.’ Eliza curtsied respectfully to my aunt, who had just joined us, and then hugged and kissed the two of us.

‘How pretty you look,’ she said. ‘Oh, to be young again!’ She sighed and looked melancholy for a moment, but then her eyes sparkled again.

‘I have news,’ she said. ‘The Princesse de Lambelle is in town!’ She said it with such a dramatic air that passers-by turned their heads to look at her.

‘Who’s the Princesse de Lambelle?’ asked Jane.

‘
Ma chérie!
‘ exclaimed Eliza. ‘Do you not know?! The Princesse de Lambelle is one of Queen Marie Antoinette’s very best and most intimate friends. She is
come straight from my beloved Paris.’

My aunt was interested in this news and wanted to know immediately where this Princesse de Lambelle was staying. Upon hearing that the Princesse de Lambelle and her household had rented number
1, the Crescent, she nodded her head sagely. I remembered how we had watched a huge travelling coach unloading enormous quantities of goods, and how the smartly dressed footmen were rushing in and
out on the day when we had walked up there.

‘And that is not all,’ said Eliza, her eyes going from my face to Jane’s. ‘There will be a ball there and
mon petit ami
Monsieur Baddy, has procured four tickets
of invitation. What do you say to that,
mes petites
?’

‘Oh, Eliza!’ gasped Jane. ‘Do you mean us? Go to a ball given by a princess! Oh, Jenny!’

We hugged each other right in the middle of the street, taking no notice of Mrs Leigh-Perrot.

But then Phylly appeared from the library doorway, declaring loudly that there was nothing there that it was possible for someone like herself to read.

‘Idle scribblings lead to an idle, dissipated life,’ she declared.

Suddenly my heart sank. Four tickets. Phylly was Eliza’s guest. She would have to be one of the four. The same thought obviously occurred to Jane, and she stared at Phylly in dismay.