Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend (20 page)

I said to Jane that in that case surely no one will believe her but Jane just replied, ‘Grand larceny is very serious.’

Friday, 29 April 1791

Another terrible day. When Jane and I were talking it over tonight we both said that we guessed at breakfast that Mrs Leigh-Perrot had told her husband about the
constable’s visit and about the accusation.

Our uncle ate very little and he shot from the table when Franklin came in and whispered to him that the lawyer had arrived. Before he left the room I saw him touch his wife affectionately on
the shoulder. She made no reply or gesture in return, but both Jane and I had a suspicion that her eyes were wet.

When the breakfast table was cleared she suddenly spoke for the first time to ask whether Eliza had two or three bedrooms in her lodgings at Queen’s Square. Jane told her that there were
three bedrooms, and Mrs Leigh-Perrot nodded calmly and said that was good because if there were some temporary problem then perhaps Eliza would have us to stay with her at Queen’s Square.

‘Why? What could happen?’ asked Jane bluntly.

Mrs Leigh-Perrot gave a superior smile, ‘Well, you know men and how they worry,’ she said. ‘Your poor uncle has got it into his head that this Miss Gregory might make trouble.
Apparently . . .’ and when she came to this our aunt turned her gaze away from us, stared at the window and finished by saying, ‘apparently, she has some sort of . . . of friendship
with the chief constable.’

Jane’s eyes met mine and her eyebrows shot up. We neither of us had the spirit to make any jokes though, and when my aunt told us to go and write letters or something we did not even
discuss the matter. We were both too worried about Charles and the possibility that the poor little fellow has smallpox. Jane is writing a letter to her mother and I am writing my journal.

At about eleven o’clock, Jane and I went out to have the last fitting for our new gowns. It was sort of sad, because our aunt declined to come. Since breakfast time she
had worn a worried expression, and her husband, who seems devoted to her, kept casting anxious looks in her direction.

We set off alone, and were soon joined by Harry. I must say that I began to suspect that he kept a watch on the house because whenever we come out in our bonnets and cloaks – and alone
– he is soon by our side.

Jane told him about Charles, and oddly for Jane, who seldom cries, tears overflowed from her eyes. Harry was very upset. I think that if I were not there he might have taken her in his arms
instantly.

‘He’ll be all right; he’s a tough little lad. I know about six or seven fellows who had smallpox when they were young. Got a few marks left, but he won’t mind that.
He’ll be off to the navy school at the end of the summer, won’t he? He’ll be proud of a few scars then – make him look tough.’ While he was talking, I could see how he
was racking his brains to think of the right thing to say.

Jane gulped a little, and then laughed and then gulped again. She stopped by the railings of the Queen’s Square garden and faced into the bushes. Once again I bent down to fiddle with my
lace. When I took a peep upwards, Harry had his arm around Jane.

A moment later two ladies with parasols came along the pavement chattering noisily and Jane moved away.

‘Dear Harry,’ she said affectionately. ‘I’ll stop making a fool of myself and embarrassing everyone.’

When we returned from the dressmaker’s shop, the stagecoach from Bristol was just coming up Gay Street. There seemed to be only two people in it, but a large number of
bandboxes in the luggage carrier at the back.

‘Two women,’ I guessed.

‘Or one man and one woman with many heads,’ said Jane. She kept trying to make jokes all the morning. I think she was embarrassed that she had cried in front of Harry. He had offered
to wait outside the dressmaker’s while we were having our fitting, but Jane told him not to be silly and not to waste a nice fine morning and to go and have a ride around Sydney Gardens, or
something. He looked very miserable when he went off, poor fellow.

I was so busy thinking about Jane and Harry and trying to work out whether she was in love with him or not that I didn’t notice for a moment that the stagecoach had stopped outside the
Leigh-Perrot house. It was only when Jane gasped that I realized that the tall, rather plump man who had stepped down on to the pavement was my brother.

‘Oh no,’ I moaned under my breath. I didn’t think that I could stand having Edward-John and Augusta around as well as the worries about poor little Charles – and the
worry about Aunt Leigh-Perrot being accused of stealing.

I felt embarrassed about seeing them again. The last time I was in such a temper with them that I just ignored them and didn’t bother saying goodbye. Now I felt that I couldn’t go up
and hug them or even shake them by the hand.

Luckily the door opened just then. Franklin came running down, beaming with delight. He glanced at the stagecoach, but came quickly over to Jane. ‘Good news, Miss Jane,’ he
whispered, and then went over to assist with the baggage. By this stage our uncle and aunt had come out, Uncle waving a letter and calling out, ‘Nothing but chickenpox! The little lad is
fine.’

Jane went so white for a moment that I thought she might faint. I put my arm around her as she held on to the black metal railings. After a minute, her colour came back and she laughed a little
hysterically. ‘Honestly, Cassandra! Couldn’t she tell the difference between chickenpox and smallpox?!’

I tried to excuse Cassandra’s mistake, saying that it was sometimes hard to distinguish between the two in the beginning stages, but Jane wasn’t listening. She was shaking hands very
politely with Edward-John and Augusta (I just dropped a quick curtsy and kept my eyes on the pavement) and saying in her most grown-up tones, ‘What a shame that we have to run away the moment
that you arrive, but we really must bring the good news to Cousin Eliza. She was so very upset when we told her about Charles.’

Instead of going to Eliza – she hadn’t even been told about Charles’s sickness – Jane and I went for a walk. Harry joined us and we went up to the
Crescent and looked at the view from there. Then we had a good look at number 1, also. Even though it was still quite bright, we could see hundreds of candles already burning within the house.

‘To think that we will be dancing there next week,’ I said longingly. I felt a little guilty because Thomas would not be there, but then I imagined what a lovely long letter I could
write to him describing the event (and give to Harry to post). Thomas had given me the name of a ships’ post at Southampton. Apparently ships take letters for each other.

‘I will be dancing with a
comte
,’ said Jane, gazing up at the stately windows.

‘Not Monsieur Baddy, I hope; you’ll make Eliza envious,’ I said.

‘Every Frenchman is a count,’ said Jane very positively, and Harry laughed. He knows her so well, and is always amused at her conversation, especially when she is living in one of
her stories.

After supper we went up to our room, saying we were going to write letters. Mr and Mrs Leigh-Perrot looked as if they would be glad to join us but Augusta was talking about two brothers, friends
of theirs, very rich merchants, who had shared the stagecoach with them and who were now staying at the Greyhound, which, according to her, is the best inn in Bath.

‘There’s Harry outside,’ said Jane, going to the window to close the curtains. She gave a sigh. ‘Oh dear, how romantic it would be if he were to pace the pavement until
dawn! Do you think that is what he is going to do?’

‘Poor Harry!’ I went and joined her, pulling the curtain back a little so that I could see him. The movement was enough to attract his attention. He gave one quick look upwards and
then took a folded letter from his pocket and pretended to be busy scrutinizing the address.

‘Jane,’ I said quickly, ‘I think Harry has a letter for me. Or perhaps it is for you . . .’

‘Let’s go down.’ Jane was already at the door. We both crept down the stairs and opened the front door as softly and carefully as we could.

Harry had a letter in his hand. The bold, upright handwriting in that very black ink almost jumped out at me; I hardly noticed the small, well-drawn anchor in one corner of the folded sheet. I
knew instantly that it was from Thomas.

‘For you, Miss Jenny,’ he said. ‘It was at the inn when I rode home.’

Harry melted away quickly as soon as I had the precious letter safely tucked under my cloak. In a moment Jane and I were back indoors and crept up the stairs to our bedroom. It was the first
really long letter that I had received from Thomas. I will stick it in here now, and every day when I open my journal I will reread it.

Saturday, 30 April 1791

Breakfast was a silent meal. Augusta kept eyeing me with dislike, and I wonder what was said last evening. Edward-John did not look at me at all and fawned on our uncle and
aunt in a sickening sort of way.

Just after breakfast there was a thunderous knock on the door. Jane and I were on the staircase, but we stopped and waited until the housemaid went to open the door. When we saw the constable on
the doorstep and heard him demand Mrs Leigh-Perrot we crept down the stairs again and waited in the back of the hallway.

I think that if it had been Franklin he would have left the constable standing in the hall and fetched Mr Leigh-Perrot, but the housemaid was flustered and immediately showed the man into the
breakfast parlour. Jane and I could hear every word that was said. Jane has written it out like a play. I think it is mostly correct – written in Jane’s unique style, of course.

And then the constable marched out of the house, not waiting for anyone to show him the door. By this time Edward-John and Augusta were on the scene. I could see from the
uncertainty in Augusta’s eyes that she wasn’t quite sure how to act. On the one hand, the Leigh-Perrot couple are very rich – Mrs Leigh-Perrot is an heiress in her own right. On
the other hand it was thoroughly disreputable to be arrested and dragged off to jail by a police constable. Eventually Augusta solved the problem of how to behave by fainting noisily on to the
sofa.

‘It’s good that you are here, Edward-John; you can take care of your sister and cousin as your Uncle James has taken the notion into his head that he wishes to accompany me.’
Our courageous aunt ignored the unconscious figure on the sofa and told the maid to bring her bonnet and pelisse.

‘May we go with you? Please, Aunt, allow us to go.’ Jane was also ignoring Augusta, who, realizing that no one but her husband was paying attention to her, now sat up with a faint
squeak of horror.

‘No young lady of true elegance could possibly visit such a place,’ she said, frowning at Jane.

‘We’ll all walk down together,’ said Jane firmly. ‘Dearest Aunt, please do allow us. We are your family. My mother would want us to do this.’

Edward-John seemed to making some noises as if he too was going to offer, but Augusta put a stop to this by stretching out her arms to him and then fainting again.

‘Certainly not.’ Mrs Leigh-Perrot sounded her usual authoritative self, but she patted Jane on the shoulder and I think that she was quite touched by the offer.