Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend (21 page)

‘Bother,’ said Jane as she eyed the couple going down the steep hill of the Paragon. ‘It would have made such an exciting scene in a novel.’

I was quite shocked, but couldn’t help a slight giggle as we went back upstairs to our bedroom in order to escape from Augusta and Edward-John. We sat on the window seat so that we could
see the Leigh-Perrots when they returned and tried to guess if they would come in a cab or a sedan chair, or whether they would walk.

Lots of gigs, chaises and other vehicles passed, their horses labouring on the steep hill, but there was no sign of any familiar figures. Then a large omnibus lumbered past, taking a long time
despite the four horses straining every limb.

When it had gone by a blond-haired young man emerged from behind it and crossed the road. The next minute we heard the doorbell.

‘It’s Harry,’ said Jane. She gave a quick glance at the looking glass and then opened the door very quietly, shutting it carefully once I was through. Together we tiptoed down
the stairs and reached the hallway before the maid.

‘Go back to the kitchen, Rosalie, it’s just someone bringing news,’ said Jane in an imitation of Mrs Leigh-Perrot’s stately manner and Rosalie vanished before Jane had
edged the heavy hall door open and pulled Harry inside.

I had a quick look into the second-best parlour. It was empty, so I nodded at Jane who caught Harry by the hand and led him in there.

‘Not another letter for Jenny!’ exclaimed Jane.

Harry shook his head and explained that he had met Mr and Mrs Leigh-Perrot on their way into the town hall. He walked with them and they told him all that had happened. On their way there they
had been handed a letter stating that if they were willing to recompense Miss Gregory, no more action would be taken. Harry described how the two had argued about it.

‘It’s a plot,’ said Jane dramatically. ‘A dastardly plot to extract money from an innocent woman.’

‘Mr Leigh-Perrot wanted to send a ten-pound note and finish with the whole business, but Mrs Leigh-Perrot would not agree,’ said Harry. ‘She said she was innocent, and that she
would prove it in the eye of the law.’ She had told Harry that they had no need of assistance and that they would be perfectly all right and that no harm ever came to the innocent. But Harry,
who could see that Mr Leigh-Perrot looked anxious, said that he was going that way in any case.

He told us he was glad that he had accompanied them when he saw the constable standing outside the town hall. According to Harry, the man addressed the elderly pair in a rather rude manner.

‘So I stepped forward and asked Mr Leigh-Perrot whether I could be of any assistance to him if I accompanied him inside. I had a word with the constable about being civil to people. He
said something rude back and unfortunately –’ Harry gave an impish grin before finishing – ‘my boot managed to trip him up when I was on my way in.’

‘Harry, you will be the hero of my next story,’ said Jane enthusiastically. I must say that I almost felt like kissing him myself. He was such a shy, quiet young man and yet he had
plenty of courage when it came to a need for it.

‘I just thought that that I should go in with them, as they might want someone to run errands for them,’ explained Harry modestly.

‘And what happened?’ I almost expected Jane to run upstairs for her writing desk and start writing it all down as a story.

‘Well, the mayor was a bit embarrassed,’ said Harry. ‘I think that he probably knows them very well. Once he almost called Mr Leigh-Perrot “James” and then just
stopped himself. The magistrate wasn’t so friendly, and that constable kept putting in bits like: “Well, we have two sworn testimonies that Mrs Leigh-Perrot is guilty, and only her word
that she is innocent.” They had Miss Gregory and that Filby man who works for her – supposedly – the two of them were there.’ He hesitated a little and then said,
‘I’m afraid that they are going to keep her in jail for the moment until Mr Leigh-Perrot can arrange bail. And he’s going to stay with her. Mrs Leigh-Perrot wanted him to go back
because she didn’t want you two to be left alone, but her husband was saying that Edward-John and his wife could surely look after his sister and cousin.’

It was very selfish of me, but I must write my thought here in my journal. And it was this:
Now I am back under Augusta’s rule again
. I tried to stop thinking of that and asked
Harry whether Mrs Leigh-Perrot was very upset.

‘Oh, she stood up to them,’ said Harry with a grin. ‘She put her nose in the air and said, “I certainly did have the white lace in my possession,” and then she
pointed at the two wretches – that’s what she called them – and said, “But only they know how it came to be wrapped up with the black lace which had been bought and paid
for.”‘

‘Harry, what do you mean by saying that Filby was “supposedly” working for Miss Gregory?’ asked Jane, eyeing him keenly.

Harry’s cheeks flushed and he ran a hand through his hair.

‘I have my suspicions about that fellow,’ was all that he would say, and Jane did not question him further, though I could see her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Harry then produced a list Mrs Leigh-Perrot had given him for overnight necessities for herself and her husband. I offered to take the list to the chambermaid and I went off, leaving them alone.
It had been nice of Harry to help the elderly couple, I thought, and then I felt ashamed of my brother that he had not done as much for his uncle and aunt.

After he had gone back with a well-packed bag, Jane told me that she guessed Harry suspected this man Filby was having some sort of irregular relationship with Miss Gregory – ‘Living
in sin,’ she hissed when I looked puzzled.

6 o’clock Saturday, 30 April

Augusta has just declared that we should attend the ball at the Assembly Rooms, to keep the flag flying and to show the world that we don’t believe what is being said
about poor, dear Aunt Leigh-Perrot. I can’t believe that even Augusta could be so insensitive. Jane and I had been hoping that Mr Leigh-Perrot might have obtained bail for his wife by now,
but there has been no word, so the poor things will definitely have to spend the night in custody. Harry has just come back with a note for Edward-John. In the hall on the way out Jane whispered to
him to make sure to be at the Assembly Rooms tonight and she would give him all of her dances so that they could discuss the affair and find out if there is a plot between Miss Gregory and Mr Filby
to get money from the Leigh-Perrots. She is sure that the note that was handed to them on their way to the town hall means that they are being blackmailed. I felt a bit sick at the idea of going to
the Assembly Rooms when the Leigh-Perrots are in such trouble, but I have to admit that Jane is full of practical ideas for their release.

It’s selfish of me, but I must say that my heart sinks at the thought of what the admiral will say when he hears about this. It will be a great scandal and he will definitely not want his
nephew allied to a family in such disgrace.

The Assembly Rooms – so different and yet so much the same.

The same lovely chandeliers, the same elegant company, the same magnificent ballroom with the same five magnificent chandeliers, the same crowds of beautifully dressed ladies and gentlemen, the
same primrose-yellow Octagon Room and narrow green card room, the same lovely pink supper room...

Jane in her daffodil-yellow gown flirting with Newton Wallop...

‘My dear boy, where did you pick up such unmeaning rubbish? I suspect that you have been reading novels...’

But no Thomas...

Augusta comes up. She wants to introduce her dear friends . .. two very fat, rather greasy-looking youngish men – probably in their mid-thirties – bowing very politely. They pay all
sorts of compliments to Edward-John, including congratulating him on his sermon last week. My brother looks a little surprised at that and I wonder whether these two – Augusta introduces them
as merchants from Bristol – had really attended his church.

I am dancing with the younger of the two, Mr Stanley, quite a small man in comparison with my Thomas, with a rounded stomach sticking out under his embroidered waistcoat and over the top of his
pale yellow breeches and a large, round face with trickles of perspiration running down it.

He tries to make conversation, to impress me, talks and talks about how speedy his horses are and how clever he was to choose them. I don’t take much notice, but then he says something
that makes me gasp.

He is trying to make me guess how much his horse cost... ‘Well, I’ll give you an ‘int.’ He smiles down at me, his big greasy mouth splitting open to show his yellow
teeth. He pauses for a moment and then says slowly and pompously, ‘What would you say if I told you this horse cost as much as I got for ten darkies?’

‘Darkies!’ For a moment I am puzzled, and then I realize what he means. I stare at him with disgust and he grins back at me, baring his horrible teeth.

‘Slaves from Africa, you know; I trade in them. Make lots of money, I can assure you. You must come and see my house some time, you and your sister, Mrs Cooper. You’d get lost in it!
A great big place at Clifton, up on the hill over Bristol.’

I look away, look around the room, anything rather than look at this disgusting man.

Jane is dancing with Colonel Forster now. Phylly and Lavinia have their heads together, watching her with critical and hostile eyes. Phylly is some sort of second cousin to Lavinia, apparently.
They seem very fond of each other. Eliza is dancing with Monsieur Baddy. Augusta is being whirled around by the brother of that oaf who is dancing with me. Both brothers look equally revolting. No
doubt Mr Jerome Wilkins is also a slave dealer. The fact that the brothers are rich would be enough for Augusta. I know her well enough to know that she worships money.

The dance finishes. I make an excuse that I have to find my cousin.

Now Jane is with Harry Digweed. They have their heads together in one corner of the ballroom. I don’t want to interrupt and I go to the cloakroom. It’s early in the evening, just one
person is there – a girl sitting on the window seat, staring through the panes – staring at nothing. It’s Elinor – her head is turned away from me, but I hear a muffled
sob.

‘Go away!’ She shouts the words violently. ‘It’s all your fault! Why did you interfere? It was none of your business.’ She raises her face towards me. I see a red
mark on her cheek as if someone has slapped her.

‘Elinor! Did the admiral do this?’

I touch her cheek. She flinches and pulls away, staring at me. ‘Not the admiral,’ she says.

‘Who then?’

She seems about to answer but shakes her head. ‘It’s all your fault anyway!’ she repeats.

She breaks away from me and goes back towards the ballroom. I follow her. I see Sir Walter come up to her and slip his arm around her waist. She looks up at him with tears swimming in her eyes
and he pats her hand with an amused smile. He sees me looking, stares coldly at me and then walks away with Elinor on his arm.

Did he hit her?

And then Augusta is shrieking in my ear that Mr Stanley Wilkins is waiting to dance with me. Ghastly man, he takes me by the hand and leads me on to the dance floor.

I shut my ears to his voice and stare distantly over his shoulder so that I don’t have to look at him. When the dance finishes I drop him a quick curtsy and go over and stand beside Jane.
She is having a wonderful time, like a butterfly flitting from one partner to another. She has just allowed Newton Wallop to write his name on her card for the next country dance.

Lavinia Thorpe makes a sharp hissing sound behind us, and Jane says to her wisely, ‘La, Miss Thorpe, I fear you are somewhat heated by the wine. Pray do seek relief for your disordered
head and lovesick heart in the conversation of an intelligent woman like myself.’

Lavinia turns white and says, ‘I warn you, Jane Austen!’ but Jane takes no notice, gives Newton Wallop his dance and then one to Colonel Forster, another of Lavinia’s
beaux.

It’s just before supper now. I am waiting at the door for Jane. Just as she comes along I hear Lavinia, surrounded by a crowd of girls, say to Caroline in a very loud voice, ‘I
always knew that Jane Austen and her relations were beggars, but I never knew until today that they were actually thieves as well. Let’s hope that aunt of theirs will be hanged and then they
will never be able to show their faces in society again. I can just imagine that woman dangling from the gallows, can’t you?’

For a moment Jane’s face freezes. Her eyes are very large and her expression is a mask of horror.

And then Harry, who has been standing to one side, comes forward and says to Lavinia with great politeness, ‘Excuse me, ma’am, but I think you mentioned the name of the aunt of a
friend of mine. Or am I mistaken?’

He holds Lavinia’s eyes for a few moments – and I hold my breath! – and then Lavinia looks down and mutters, ‘I think you are mistaken, sir.’

And Jane’s face relaxes into a smile and she says, ‘Dearest Harry, come and join us for supper!’

Monday, 2 May 1791

Mr Stanley Wilkins and his equally revolting brother Mr Jerome Wilkins called on us this morning.

‘Dear lady!’ Mr Jerome spent a long time bending over Augusta’s hand. They are so obsequious that it is nauseating. She smiled sweetly and looked coy. They fell over each other
to give explanations as to why they did not pay the conventional calls yesterday after the ball.

‘Problems with the cargo,’ said Jerome with a sneer.

I was staring at them. I felt sick. Did that mean some poor unfortunate slaves had died?

‘Young ladies don’t like business talk,’ said Stanley in a loud, hearty voice with a frown at his brother.

‘Sit here beside me, Jenny dear,’ cooed Augusta, trying to sound like a fond mother.

After they had gone Augusta lectured me on being so silent, but I just ignored her and told her that I had to go to keep an appointment with Eliza. Jane and I are finding that visiting Eliza is
very useful. It allows us to get out of the house and also to meet Harry and talk about the Leigh-Perrots.