Page 34 of A Fortune Most Fatal (Miss Austen Investigates #2)
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Jane wakes to a sharp stab of pain as Neddy gently lifts her feet onto his lap and sits down beside her on the sofa. Blinding sunlight slices through the gap between the curtains of his study, illuminating the two enormous rifles propped up beside the fireplace. She must have been snoozing for hours, waiting for him to return. “I’m so sorry, Ned.”
“Don’t be.” Neddy is still wearing his sports coat and boots and looks decidedly exhausted after his night of battle. Conker is stretched out on the rug, as if he, too, is worn out after all the excitement. “Spooner was trespassing, and you were only trying to save yourself and Agnes. It was very brave of you to seek to protect her.”
“Are you sure you don’t mean reckless?” Jane had been bracing herself for a severe reprimand from her brother. She is not sure Eliza will ever forgive her for sneaking off alone. Or for ruining such a fine pair of silk stockings.
“I admit it was most imprudent. Anything might have happened. Mother would never have forgiven me if you’d come to disaster under my watch. But …”
“But?” Jane asks, wondering which mother Neddy is referring to. Mrs. Knight is certainly pleased with her for retrieving Agnes but, if Jane’s plan had failed and both she and Agnes had fallen victim to Spooner, she expects the widow would have attributed their downfall to Jane’s impudence.
“I’m not sure one can be brave without being reckless. Look at our brothers, Frank and Charles. Neither could have risen through the ranks of the navy without risking their lives.” Neddy’s eyes twinkle with grudging respect. “I was very close behind Spooner, but I cannot say for certain I’d have caught up with him if you hadn’t intervened. It’s not your fault he fell prey to Sir William’s trap. You’ve no need to ask my forgiveness on his account.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean to apologize for injuring that scoundrel.”
“You didn’t?”
“No. It would never have happened if he hadn’t behaved so abominably towards Agnes and Heaven only knows how many other girls. I meant I was sorry for presuming the worst of you, Ned. I accused you of the most heinous crime, and I never even gave you the chance to defend yourself.”
“Ah.” Neddy rests back against the cushions, exhaling loudly. “Again, that’s not entirely your fault … I suspected you’d overheard my confrontation with Spooner that day. I should have dealt with it by clarifying matters.” He considers for a long moment. “But I couldn’t bear to provoke your disgust. You’d only just arrived, and I was intent on restoring myself in your affections after so many years apart. It’s as you said. I’ve been blessed to receive every advantage and I dread to think I might disappoint our family.”
Jane lays a hand on his forearm. “Are your affairs really so dire?”
“Not so bad as to justify my actions. I regret what I did bitterly, and I swear I shall never attempt anything like it again.” He stares at her, his features contorted with misery.
“It’s not as if anyone pays the duty on tea.” Jane tries to comfort him, but even to herself her voice sounds hollow. If Neddy objects to the new taxes, he should be using his privileged position to lobby Parliament, not seeking ways to circumvent the law.
“Yes, but where does one draw the line?” He places his hand over hers. “My interactions with the Sea Salter Company may have begun innocuously, with purchasing a few cheap crates of Bordeaux. Then, before I knew it, I was smuggling my wool to the Continent and unwittingly contributing to the abuse of Agnes. Corruption is a disease, Jane. One must purge even the smallest instance before it rots the whole. Can you believe our Riding Officer, Mr. Skeete, was among the villains rounded up at Godmersham?”
While Jane has confessed to Neddy her midnight dash to save Agnes, she does not think it politic for him to know every detail of her adventure in Whitstable with Mr. Bridges. “You won’t be ruined, then?”
“No, but I need to find the means to pay Sir William. I’ll begin by being honest with Beth about what we can and cannot afford. She expects us to live as if I’ve already come into my fortune, but my income is more akin to that of a tenant farmer than a grand gentleman. That’s all I amount to presently. I may have vastly more acreage at my disposal than Father, but I face all the same challenges. It’s high time Beth and I began living in a style more befitting our circumstances. We’ll need to retrench. I might even have to …” Neddy swallows. “No, there must be another way around it. I’ll think of something.”
“What is it?” Jane straightens, thinking of all the things her mother and father rely on Neddy’s assistance to pay for. Her brother Georgy’s welfare is first and foremost in her mind.
“I might have to sell the phaeton and swap the carriage mares for an ordinary pair of draught horses.”
“Is that all?” She laughs.
“You don’t sound very sympathetic.”
“Oh, Neddy, I assure you I’m mortified on your behalf. Imagine, the ignominy of being seen driving through Kent, day after day, in nothing more luxurious than a rickety old chaise pulled by … I can’t even say the words.” She pauses, placing the back of her hand to her forehead for effect. “An ordinary pair of draught horses. It’s just too ghastly to contemplate.”
“All right, Jane. That’s enough of your biting wit.” Neddy takes her hand in his. “I know you were still in leading strings when I left Steventon.”
“I wasn’t that little.”
“You were five, and I was fourteen. Almost a man, and old enough to know my loyalty will always remain with my family. Both my families.” He squeezes her fingers a little too tightly, crushing her knuckles. “Trust me when I say you may ever rely on me in times of distress.”
“Thank you, Neddy. And I promise we don’t love you for your fortune alone.” Jane rests her head on his shoulder. “Although it certainly helps.” His chest rumbles with laughter. “What will happen to Mr. Spooner and his gang?”
“At present, the scoundrels are sleeping off their criminal exertions in Canterbury County Gaol. But pretty soon they’ll be up in front of the bench for trespass. If found guilty, they’ll either be hanged or, if the magistrate is inclined to show mercy, despatched to a penal colony for fourteen years.”
“Aren’t you the magistrate?”
“I am, yes,” he says, as if only just remembering this. “And while, in this moment, I could cheerfully string up the lot of them for frightening Mother, I hope to recover myself in time to pass judgement with a cool head.”
“I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.” Jane sighs. That her brother is already contemplating showing Spooner’s gang clemency is a sure sign he will. She is so very glad their father managed to instill his merciful temperament in his son, who is responsible for administering justice.
“As for Spooner …” Neddy sucks the air through his teeth “… if he survives, which, between ourselves, I’m not at all certain he will …”
“No? I thought it was just his leg that was broken.” When Jane left the copse Spooner remained impaled, but the variety of his curses and the strength with which they were delivered led her to believe his injuries were not life-threatening.
“Yes, but the last time I saw him, Dr. Storer was about to remove the offending limb with a new invention he’s keen to patent called the ‘automatic amputator.’”
Jane is hit with a sudden desire to vomit. “Please don’t tell Dr. Storer about my ankle. I’ve only turned it. It’ll be perfectly restored in a couple of days, so long as I rest. I really don’t require any medical attention.”
“What? You don’t want to try his contraption for yourself ? It sounds very impressive. He claimed it would take Spooner’s leg off in just one blow.” Neddy makes a chopping motion just below Jane’s knee. “Apparently, it relies on a very sharp blade being dropped from a great height, like a humane version of the guillotine.”
“Actually, Neddy, I think the guillotine was invented to serve as a more humane means of despatch.”
“Only a mind as brilliant and twisted as yours could contemplate such a thing, Jane.”
“It’s true!” She laughs. “It lops everyone’s heads off equally, you see? From prince to pauper.”
“Indeed. Well, if Spooner survives, he, too, will be tried for trespass. And in that instance, given what you and Mother have told me about his other crimes, I should say it’s incredibly unlikely I’d be disposed to show any mercy at all.” Neddy’s features turn grave. Jane has no sympathy for Spooner, but even she can understand it is an unenviable task to be called on to decide whether another man mounts the scaffold or not. “So, you can see why I’m hoping Dr. Storer might save me a job.”
“Aren’t you afraid Spooner will accuse you of smuggling in return?”
“It would hardly help his cause to blacken my name. And if he did, who would be minded to believe him over me? All the evidence, including the tubs of wool and the logbook, sank with the Infanta. ”
“Then let us pray Dr. Storer does his best—or should I say his worst?—to save his patient.”
Neddy smiles, placing a hand on her throbbing ankle. “Are you sure you don’t like the good doctor? If any of his inventions prove popular, he stands to make an enormous amount of money.”
“I’ve already told you, I don’t like him at all.” The one thing Jane’s adventure with Mr. Bridges has shown her is the benefit of having a helpmate who will follow her commands without question. If a husband could be relied upon to act accordingly, marriage might prove a more enticing prospect.
“Pity. You’d make a formidable duo.”
“We most certainly would not.”
“No? But we couldn’t help noticing how much you enjoyed midwifery.” Neddy’s lips quirk into a half-smile. “Beth wants to know if you’ll be joining us for the arrival of all our children from now on. She says it was a comfort to find she was not the most distressed person in the birthing room.”
“Stop it.”
“What do you call that shade of green your face is? Only it’s rather fetching, and I’m thinking of having the parlour repainted soon.” Neddy laughs as Jane whacks his shoulder. If he is teasing her so much, he must have forgiven her. “I’ll leave you to get some rest, but before I do, you should know that a letter arrived for you from Steventon.”
“You may place it on the mantel. My eyes are too sore to read at present,” she says. How typical of her mother to reply with a detailed account of the old man’s travelling plans at the precise moment Jane no longer needs them.
“Oh, but I suspect you’ll want to read this one immediately.” Neddy extracts a neat square of paper from his breast pocket. One glance and Jane is forced to bite back a sob of relief. It is not Mrs. Austen’s hand that greets her, but Cassandra’s. 7. Letter to Cassandra Austen
Rowling Farm, Saturday, 1 July 1797 My dearest Cassandra, Of course it is not too much to ask. Now that Elizabeth is safely delivered of her baby, I will deliver myself to you. Pray endure until my arrival,
J.A. Miss Austen Steventon Overton Hants