Adventures with Jane and her Legacy 01 Jane Austen Ruined My Life (26 page)

"I really am a professor. You can look me up on the university Web site."

Too late. I already had, the first time I met him, which was the only reason I wasn't calling for a constable at that very second.

"You have twenty seconds left," I said.

"I can help you." The words came out on a rush of breath. Barry dropped his arms, but his hands clenched into fists at his side. "I can get you the help you need to publish what you have."

"Excuse me?" Okay, maybe I should have rethought that whole calling the constable issue.

"You need to publish those letters. You know better than anyone how much your reputation will gain if you do. And I
represent a certain ... consortium, shall we say, who are also interested in seeing Austen's letters come to light."

"Who? Name names."

"I can't."

I looked at my watch. "Your time's up." I turned to walk away.

"We'll pay you as well. A hundred thousand dollars."

That stopped me in my tracks. I looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"Let me see one of the letters," he said. "Then we can talk business."

I couldn't believe it when I reached in my purse and pulled out the envelope, but for a woman who'd been scraping by on change she found under the couch cushions for the last few months, an amount with that many digits was beyond temptation.

"This is it." I unfolded the letter and held it up for him, but I kept it well beyond his reach.

"Just let me--"

"No. You can look at it from there."

He grimaced. "That's not the original."

"It's a photocopy."

His shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, but it has to be the original. A copy's worth nothing to us." He paused. "But I'll reiterate my offer. If you can produce original letters, we'll allow you to have all the credit of discovery and publication, and we'll pay you the money I mentioned."

"What are you, part of a rival literary gang or something?"

His answering smile was both self-satisfied and unctuous. "You might say that."

Great
. Not only did Austen have her Formidables, but apparently Hemingway also had his own gang of thugs. Well, not thugs, but smarmy professors, anyway.

"I don't know." I looked around, suddenly worried that an unknown Formidable might be watching the whole exchange.

"I'll have to think about it."

"There's nothing to think about." He leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Don't tell me you weren't already planning to publish them."

The flush that covered my cheeks actually burned. I couldn't even deny it.

"That's what I thought." He reached into the inside pocket of his navy blazer and pulled out a business card. "Here's my number and my e-mail address. Let me know what you decide."

To my eternal shame, I took it from him.

"But don't wait too long," he said with a nauseating wink. "It's not like you're our only option."

Adam
. Had he managed to get Mrs. Parrot to part with some of them already? I remembered him pulling that last envelope from beneath the piles of papers on Anne-Elise's table. Had he been hiding it from me? And if so, why had he changed his mind and produced it?

"I'll let you know." That was all I could manage. And then I took off, practically running down the street. I had no idea where I was going. I only knew that I had to run away as fast as I could. The problem was, the person I most wanted to run away from was myself.

A
s always, Adam's note was short and sweet.

Meet me at Kenwood
.

I thought it was rather optimistic of him, considering that I hadn't told him where I was going or what time I would be back. But then again, if he was in league with Mrs. Parrot, he no doubt knew precisely where I'd been all day. I could picture him at Kenwood, lying on a blanket on the vast lawn. Our picnic there seemed a lifetime ago.

Anne-Elise wasn't home either, and her note was equally succinct where she'd scribbled it beneath Adam's.

Just do it
, she'd urged. Clearly she'd left after Adam and thought I would need some encouragement.

Leave me alone
. That's what I wanted to write in the remaining space at the bottom of the page, but there was no one to read the message--except me.

I stood in the middle of Anne-Elise's kitchen and contemplated my choices. The easiest course would have been to avoid Adam altogether until I could get my hands on Mrs. Parrot's letters. If I went upstairs to my room, or if I took off for parts unknown, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache. Okay, not saved, but definitely postponed. Denial usually worked as a short-term strategy.

I glanced at my watch. It was almost six o'clock. By the time I changed and hiked to Kenwood, it would be at least seven. Maybe it wasn't too late, though.

Who was I kidding? It had been too late for me and Adam from the moment I'd agreed to marry Edward. Or at least from the moment I'd told Adam I had agreed to marry Edward.

A little closure wouldn't hurt
, I tried to convince myself. Meeting Adam and breaking off with him formally would be the mature thing to do. It was the logical course, not a desperate attempt to squeeze in one more night of his company before I betrayed my solemn promise to the Formidables.

I dashed upstairs and pulled on the one summery dress I'd brought. The time had come to say good-bye to Adam, to make sure our relationship came to an end, because I wouldn't be able to bear the look in his eyes once he found out what I'd done.

No matter how much I tried to convince myself that he was my rival in the race to lure Mrs. Parrot into surrendering the letters, I couldn't do it. Adam just wasn't that kind of guy. Whatever his relationship with Mrs. Parrot might be, I couldn't believe he was planning to blow the lid off her conspiracy.
Unfortunately, I had discovered that under the right circumstances, I was the kind of girl to do just that.

I mounted the stairs, determined to dress, coif, and make myself up as I'd never done before.

An hour later, as I climbed the last slope toward Kenwood House, I regretted the summer-dress-and-sandals decision. I hadn't thought about what a hot, dusty walk it would be. I cast a longing glance at the lake at the foot of the slope. Sadly, it was not meant for public bathing, so I soldiered on.

After much huffing and puffing, I finally gained the higher ground and the gravel walk that ran parallel to the house. Like the last time I was there, the slope was covered with picnicking couples and families. That evening, though, an orchestra had set up on the flat area near the house. I studied the crowd, feeling vulnerable. What if he'd gotten tired of waiting and left?

"Emma. Over here." And there he was, just as I'd pictured him, lolling on a blanket with an open book next to him. He was wearing khaki shorts and a polo shirt, looking just the same as always, but suddenly the sight of him made my stomach flip.

"Hi," I called, suddenly shy.

He was about thirty feet away. I picked a path through the people and blankets and picnic hampers.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it," Adam said as he closed his book and sat up. "I'm glad you did."

I hadn't expected him to be quite so magnanimous after our last prickly encounter. "I'm glad I got back in time."

"Did you have a good day?"

I nodded. "Yes." But I didn't offer any more information.

"Sit down," he said, an invitation, not an order. "Are you hungry?"

"You're always feeding me," I said, and the comment brought the sting of memory.

Even when we were grad students, Adam had indeed made a job out of keeping me supplied with sustenance. Pizza, Chinese takeout, popcorn for studying. The memories flooded back, and I was just tired enough to let them.

"I'm starving," I said, hoping to put myself on a more even keel with mundane conversation. "What have you got?"

It was surprisingly easy to forget about all that had happened over the past few days and simply enjoy Adam's company. I knew a more serious talk was coming. It had to. But he produced bread, cheese, and olives, and I was a lost cause.

Half an hour later, the orchestra began to play. Dusk fell, and eventually, the stars came out. The music went on and on. At some point, I leaned back, and Adam, seeing my exhaustion, offered me his chest to lean against.

"Thanks," I murmured, and not long after, I closed my eyes. The music, the darkness, and the sense of peace and safety conspired to lull me into the deepest sleep I'd had in weeks.

Sometime later, I woke up when I felt Adam's lips brushing the top of my head. "Hey, Em, it's time to go."

Startled, I sat up and looked around. Everyone was packing up their picnic baskets and folding their blankets.

"What time is it?"

"After ten," Adam answered. He stretched and rolled to his feet. "I didn't want to wake you, but I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to spend the night on the lawn."

I paused. By rights, he should have been furious with me. I should have been furious with him. But the evening had been a bit of the calm before the storm, and I didn't want to spoil it.

"What can I help with?" I asked, and Adam and I set about gathering the things he'd brought. As people faded off into the night, I knew that whatever might happen next, at least we'd had one blissful evening together.

The conversation I'd been dreading started as we made our way home from Kenwood. Adam had brought Anne-Elise's car, so we didn't have to walk back to Hampstead in the dark. I followed him gratefully to the parking lot and climbed into the little Ford. Before he put the key in the ignition, he turned toward me.

"Em, it's time for us to be honest with each other."

"I don't know, we're doing so well at being dishonest, maybe we should just keep going."

He chuckled and smiled, as I'd hoped he would. "I wish that would work."

"You never know ..."

"Yeah, you do."

I hated it when he was right. "Okay. I guess we might as well get it over with."

We both smiled in a rueful sort of way.

"Adam--"

"Me first." He paused. Then he reached out and took my hand. "Em, I'm sorry about what happened with Edward. I really am. I never liked him, but nobody deserves to be treated like he treated you."

I blinked back tears. "Thanks. And thank you for not saying, 'I told you so.'"

"You're welcome. But I did tell you."

"Yes, you did," I answered with a sad chuckle. "At least I can laugh about it now."

"That's something."

I drew a deep breath. The time had come to do what I'd shown up at Kenwood to accomplish. I just hadn't realized how very much it would hurt.

"Adam, it's been great seeing you here in London."

"That sounds ominous."

"It's just that, well, I've decided the only way for me to get past the past is to put all of it behind me."

"All of it? Meaning, what? Edward? Your job? Me?"

I nodded, although I had to force my neck to cooperate. "I need a fresh start. On my own."

"I wasn't aware I was keeping you from doing that." He dropped my hand.

"It's not you. It's me." The words didn't sound any less trite when I said them aloud than they had in my mind.