I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend (27 page)

I asked him whether he was looking for Frank — I thought that perhaps he had come to apologize, but Henry shook his head.

‘What would I want that overgrown hobbledehoy for?’ He said the words so scornfully that I felt even more sorry for Frank. I know what it feels like to be half grown-up and it’s not a comfortable feeling. Eleven-year-old Charles was much happier than Frank. He never worried about how he looked or what he sounded like. Frank did, I know. I understand that because I am always remembering things that I said and then blushing as I think I probably sounded silly.

‘Poor Frank,’ I said aloud.

‘You’re so sweet, Jenny; it’s like you to worry about everyone.’ Now he was holding my hand and squeezing my fingers very gently.

Love is a funny thing. Two days ago I would almost have fainted with delight to be next to Henry in the dim light of the stables, to have him standing so very close to me, my hand in his and his other arm going around my waist.

But now …

But now, I felt nothing.

That’s not quite true …

If I think back carefully, I felt embarrassed and I wanted to get away from him.

I had fallen completely out of love with Henry …

‘You’d better go to see Miss King,’ I said, taking a
step backwards as I saw him bend his head. I wasn’t going to allow him to kiss me on the cheek again.

‘Are you jealous, little Jenny?’ Henry’s voice was warm and teasing, the sort of voice that would have given me goose pimples two days ago.

‘No.’ I can still hear the way I said that ‘no’ and I think it sounded quite right. It sounded as though I didn’t care for him, and that was right also. ‘She’s just right for you.’ I said the words as if I were his mother.

He laughed then, but the laugh didn’t seem natural; he sounded a bit uncomfortable.

‘I’d better go; I have some tasks to do.’ Again, to my surprise, the words came out smoothly and I managed to move away from him as I said it. He followed me and again tried to put his arm around me.

‘Excuse me, Henry.’ I stole a quick look at him when I said that and I saw that he looked quite taken aback. I know that I sounded brisk, just as if he were Charles getting in my way.

And then I didn’t look at Henry any more, just went straight through the yard, in through the back door, up the stairs. Once I reached our bedroom, I took out my journal and unlocked it.

But then I thought about Frank’s words. Is it really true that Captain Williams has a girl in every port? I wish I knew.

Perhaps that is why he hasn’t come to see me.

Or perhaps he thought I was just boring and stupid.

Jane has just come in and I told her about what Frank said and we discussed why Captain Williams has not called on me when he said that he was going to.

‘That’s interesting about having a girl in every port,’ said Jane thoughtfully. ‘I wonder, does he get their names muddled? That would make a good story.’ And then she saw my expression, I suppose, because she quickly told me that she was only joking and that she didn’t think that Captain Williams looked like that sort of man at all.

‘I was looking at him when he was dancing with you,’ she said, ‘and he wasn’t looking at anyone else — just at you.’

‘I wish I knew what to do now.’ I felt so depressed that I think I was near to tears.

‘I’ll go and fetch Eliza,’ said Jane, and she was gone before I could call her back. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to discuss the matter with Eliza, but when she came she was very kind and very reassuring, talking about all the duties that naval captains have and the emergencies that might have arisen.

‘Don’t worry, Jenny,’ she said. ‘I saw the way that Captain Williams looked at you and I know that he was
très, très épris.
’

‘Very taken by you,’ translated Jane. Her French is better than mine as she often chatters in it to Eliza.

‘You have captured his heart,
ma petite,
’ said Eliza solemnly.

‘Should she write to him, do you think?’ asked Jane. ‘Just something casual — ask him how he is and how his ship is — just to remind him of her.’

‘
Mais non, mais non, mais non …
’ Eliza became very agitated. ‘A lady must never do that. It’s for the gentleman to make the first move. A lady must wait. You have made an impression; now stand back and let him come forward!’

‘I’m not sure that I made a great impression,’ I said, and I probably said it rather dolefully because Eliza gave me a motherly pat on the shoulder.

‘Did he pay you any compliments?’ asked Jane.

I told her that he said I had lovely eyes and she immediately asked me what I said in return and shook her head reprovingly when I admitted that I said nothing.

‘You should have said, “La, Captain Williams, you do me too much honour!” That’s what she should have said, Eliza, isn’t it?’

I said hotly that I thought that sounded ridiculous. I was embarrassed to think how I had blushed when he admired my eyes.

Eliza pursed her lips, but tactfully did not agree with either of us. She was thinking hard though, and when she spoke she was quite decisive.

‘You see, Jenny, my dear,’ she said briskly, ‘it’s very pretty to look shy, but don’t be too shy. You must be
ready to give the gentleman a hint of your feelings.’

‘Just take one step forward, and then a step back! That’s right, isn’t it, Eliza?’ Jane was getting excited. I half expected her to fly across the room and take out her writing desk.

‘
Précisément!
’ Eliza beamed fondly at Jane and then turned back to me with a serious look. ‘Think of it like a dance, Jenny. A gentleman pays you a compliment, you look up at him and let him see your feelings for him — just for one moment — and then you drop your eyelashes to hide your eyes — use your fan — I showed you how. Then if a gentleman talks of his feelings, don’t hold back. If you are too shy to respond, then just look up and let him read the message of love in your eyes.’

‘And don’t forget your fan,’ advised Jane. ‘But she’ll have to say something if he asks her to marry him, won’t she, Eliza? She can’t just look at him and hope that he guesses.’

‘Who says anything about marriage?’ Eliza pronounced it ‘
marrrriaage
’. ‘Jenny doesn’t know him well enough for any talk about marriage. She’ll have to get to know him a lot better before she agrees to marry him. She only met him for less than an hour. No young girl should be talked into marriage before she is ready!’ And Eliza sighed heavily and looked into the fire with an air of tragedy.

‘Oh, but she knew him before—’ Jane stopped suddenly and put her hand in front of her mouth.
Eliza dropped her tragic-muse pose and swivelled around to look at me with an air of interest.

‘I don’t mind Cousin Eliza knowing,’ I said reassuringly to Jane. I could see how horror-filled she looked and I guessed that there was no way out of telling Eliza the whole story. In any case, she was going back to London.

‘But you must swear never to tell a soul,’ said Jane, and then she dramatically told Eliza the whole story. Eliza listened with parted lips, and when Jane had finished she said, ‘Jenny, this is a man who will love and cherish you. When this man comes back to tell you of his love for you, you will know what to do. This is a man who has shown gentleness and kindness to an unprotected girl. He will make a wonderful husband.’

‘Perhaps he was still just being kind to me though.’

Eliza shook her head. ‘You forget that I have studied him,
chérie
. Even across the ballroom floor I could see that he was in love with you. I know about these things. I could tell you such stories.’ And Eliza heaved a sigh and smiled a world-weary smile.

‘Oh, do tell us some stories of your time in Paris, before you were married, Eliza. You’re going away tomorrow so this is the last opportunity,’ urged Jane.

‘I’ll be back for the performance of the play at Easter,
chérie,
’ said Eliza, ‘but …’

So for the rest of the evening, Eliza sat by our
fireside and told so many stories and gave us so much good advice that by bedtime my head was in a whirl. Before she left she kissed me and whispered in my ear, ‘Now remember, he will come, and when he does, you will know what to say to him.’

Jane is now asleep and I am still writing in my journal and hoping that Mrs Austen won’t notice the light of the candle shining under our door.

I’ve been thinking about Eliza’s words so I’ve fetched my journal from my trunk and am trying to sort out my feelings.

I can see where I’ve gone wrong. I’ve been too shy, too silent.

When Captain Williams told me that story of how he saved the boy, I was dying to show him how wonderful I thought he had been.

But I was just too shy — that’s what I told myself at the time.

Perhaps, though, I’m getting too old to be shy …

Perhaps it’s just a form of selfishness …

Perhaps Thomas (secretly in my mind I like to call him Thomas) would have been pleased to hear himself praised.

When he told me the story and I said nothing, perhaps he felt embarrassed …

The next time that I meet him I will know what to do …

If ever I meet him again …

Tuesday, 29 March 1791

And today he came!

And I didn’t show him my feelings.

Everything went wrong.

All Jane’s and Eliza’s good advice seems to be thrown away on me.

This is how the day went.

Frank had got back his good humour this morning when he was giving me my riding lesson; he was very nice and complimented me on my riding and without much prompting on my part he started to tell me about the duties of a captain. It was a fine morning and we had now progressed to riding side by side down the lane towards the church. I was enjoying the morning sun and watching the brisk wind stirring and blowing the white petals of the cherry trees drifting down, looking like snow as I half listened to a long description of everything that captains did on board ship (and of course all about what a midshipman would do, as well) and eventually I managed to slip in the question that I wanted to ask.

‘And when captains are on shore, is their time their own, or do they have any duties then?’

Again I had to listen to a long description of how ships had to be cleansed, refitted, all about ships’ stores and chandlers.

‘So a captain would have to supervise all of that?’ I said thoughtfully as soon as I could get a word in.

‘Of course! It’s no easy life, being a captain of ship. Not like those idle dogs in the army.’ Frank was very scornful of the army, where a man could buy a commission and not rise through merit, as they do in the navy.

I didn’t listen to the rest of his opinions about soldiers. My heart was happy again. Thomas was probably down in Southampton seeing to his ship. He would have no time to waste calling upon young ladies. Frank didn’t say any more about Thomas having a girl in every port so I hope that what he said yesterday is not true.

We went to see George this morning, and brought a piece of pork pie. He enjoyed the pie, but he had problems with making the sign for
P
. This was difficult for him as it involved — according to the
book that Jane had taken from her father’s library — folding his thumb and two fingers. In the end I said to Jane that we should be content with him trying to say the name. I had more hopes of teaching George to talk than to read or to spell, but Jane was of the opinion that reading and spelling would impress her mother more. On the way home I was thinking about George and I was thinking that it was strange that Jane was the only one of his seven brothers and sisters to worry about him. After all, the others — including James, who had great influence with his mother — knew that their brother was lodged with a poor family down in the village. They knew that he shambled around dirty and perhaps ill-fed — he always seemed hungry to me — and yet none of them ever took any interest in him.

After dinner it poured with rain and everyone was in the parlour. There was no opportunity for the boys to go out of doors before lessons started again so we all settled down with books or card games or chess, and Mr Austen was reading through the sermon that he had preached on Sunday. Charles was first ‘broke’ (and out of buttons!) in our game of pontoon so he left the table and wandered over to the window.