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CHAPTER XL

It was not until the afternoon of the third day of the visit that the issue was broached. The children were all at rest in the nursery; Ned was out in the woods with his gun: it was a rare moment of peace in that busy household, relished by Mary and Miss Austen in the cool of the parlour. Until Cassy marched in.

‘So this is where you are hiding !’ she said crossly. Cassy had been cross since the moment she arrived. ‘I know you’re avoiding me. Pray, do not argue!’ She held up one delicate hand while lowering herself, prettily, on to the chair. ‘Poor darlings – if only you could see your own faces! Honestly, it is the same wherever I go. The company droops when I heave into view. It is utterly humiliating.’ A dish of tea was placed on the table beside her, but she ignored it. ‘I was the gay young thing once, if you remember?’ Cassy twisted her fingers and stared into her lap. ‘All of a sudden, I am twenty-seven years of age, and the Family Problem.’

‘You are hardly a problem, my dear,’ her aunt replied smoothly. ‘Shall we work while we chat?’ Conversation flowed so much more easily when conjoined with mutual manual endeavour. Miss Austen rose and collected the poor basket.

But Cassy refused. ‘Thank you, but I find my own perpetual misery occupation enough.’

‘Misery, my dear?’ Her aunt gathered her patience and began yet another new hem. ‘Whoever suffered the melancholies when newly engaged?’

‘Ah. Cleverly done, Aunt!’ Cassy said, with great bitterness. ‘At last, we are on to the Great Subject. Pray, do continue! Delight me with your sermon. I have heard all the others.’

‘I shall do nothing of the sort!’ Miss Austen replied calmly, and ignored Mary’s meaningful looks. ‘You are perfectly old enough to make up your own mind. Who am I to judge you , my dear?’

Cassy, flummoxed, dropped her belligerence.

But Mary, it seemed, had spied an opportunity. ‘Then perhaps, instead, you might tell us what your sister would say, had God chosen to spare her and she were here?’

‘Jane, too, was unmarried,’ Cassandra retorted.

‘Yet not short on advice or opinion …’ Cassy smiled with the memory.

‘That much is true.’ The aunt chuckled, and a new harmony reigned in the room. ‘Now, let me think …’ She had already finished one hem and was selecting another. ‘I remember when Fanny was wrestling with a decision herself, in her much younger days.’

‘Ooh!’ The two women squealed like young girls. ‘Who was he? Do tell!’

‘I fear the name is quite lost to me. All I can say is that she, too, asked for Jane’s guidance and my sister and I worked on the letter together.’ She stopped stitching to gaze out of the window, with the hint of a smile, remembering how very convivial their dear cottage was once. ‘There were two salient points to it, as I recall. The first being: never to marry where there is not yet affection … ’

‘Which Fanny then did, may I point out?’ Cassy responded. ‘And I do not believe that she harbours any regret …’

‘Affection can grow over time, it is true.’ The hemming continued. ‘Though one cannot count on it.

‘But perhaps, more pertinent to your case’ – Miss Austen buried her head, fussed in her work bag in search of the scissors and to hide her own face – ‘was the second. I cannot recall the exact phrasing, but believe it was something along the lines of: Do not marry one man while your heart belongs to another. ’

That seemed to have an effect. Cassy studied her lap, and fell into silence. Mary’s eyes flashed with approval.

And having scored one success, Miss Austen was emboldened to go further. ‘To that, I can add very little.’ Using both thumbs, she evened the space between stitches, and spoke as if in idle chatter. ‘But if you seek any more of my sister’s great wisdom, all I suggest is that you return to her novels. That is what I do, when I crave her advice. I am sure, in those pages, you will find something to guide you.

‘There!’ She lifted the new, finished product – an apron made from old curtains – and looked upon it with some satisfaction. ‘All done! I think that is enough for one afternoon, do not you?’

But Cassy remained silent, and Mary had already put down her work and hurried out of the room. Miss Austen listened to her quick footsteps, noted with pleasure that they seemed to stop at the library. And thought: now, let her find the appropriate book …

And so it was that, on 21 October 1834 – a mere two months after that afternoon – Cassy Knight was married to her best beloved, Lord George Hill.

It promised to be the grandest affair, and something of a departure for the Austens and Knights: a smart London church; half of society expected to attend – and, surely, the guest list must be enormous. For even Miss Austen received an invitation, and she had not been at a family wedding for decades.

A fleet of carriages carried the family from breakfast to the ceremony and, purely by chance, Aunt Cassandra was put in one with only Fanny for company.

‘My dear, we have not been together for ever so long!’ she began happily. It had sometimes felt that Fanny now avoided her, which was a trifle upsetting. Aunt and niece had once been so close. ‘It seems I have barely seen you since – oh – since you were married yourself.’ One of the many weddings to which she had not been invited.

‘Were you there?’ Fanny – suddenly very much Lady Knatchbull – replied haughtily. ‘I do not remember it. Ours was both modest and intimate, which I must say is more to my taste.’ She peered out of the window, then fell back into the corner. ‘Do look at the horrible crowds ! Simply frightful. What on earth can they want from us?’

‘Is it not marvellous?’ Cassandra pressed her face to the window – she saw no benefit in hiding – and studied the multitudes lining the streets. ‘Just listen to the roar! All these kind people, cheering the couple. Desperate for a glimpse of the future Lady George Hill.’

‘Poor little creature.’ Fanny shuddered, with a hand to her face to obscure public view. ‘I cannot imagine she wanted something so vulgar.’

‘Possibly not,’ Cassandra conceded. ‘But she is happy with her match, and that is all that matters.’

‘I still do not quite understand how it all came about so very suddenly,’ Fanny declared as she fiddled with her reticule. ‘We sent her to Chawton to get rid of one fiancé, only to find her return with another.’ She shuddered. ‘Of course, one must blame oneself – as usual. I should never have let her go off to Hampshire alone. It all seems to have got rather giddy .’

It was only then that Cassandra understood Fanny’s nose to be quite out of joint – after all, a lord was one up from a baronet. ‘We have Mary to thank for it all,’ she explained – as if to be helpful, while knowing that she was, in fact, adding further insult. ‘As soon as Cassy gave up the first gentleman, Mary did her research – discovered his lordship still single – and invited him down to Chawton. Was that not inspired? The whole business was settled in a matter of days.’

They were now on the approach into Hanover Square; the procession had slowed – they were caught in a queue of conveyances – and the cheering had grown even louder.

‘So very clever of her,’ Cassandra went on. ‘Do you not agree?’

Fanny stared straight ahead at the back of the coachman. The air in the carriage became frigid, until Fanny finally spoke.

‘I hear you and Mary are now rather close ?’ She sighed. ‘I confess, I am happy for it. As the years go on and the horrible shock of her departure fades in the memory, I find myself—’ She started to stutter. ‘I cannot escape the suspicion —’ The words were not coming easily until, at last, she exclaimed: ‘As a mother , I failed her.’

‘Oh, dear Fan.’ Cassandra reached for a hand and patted it. It felt like a return to their intimacy of old. ‘Mary has never accused you in my hearing. Nor does she speak ill of her father.’

But at mention of Sir Edward, Fanny became Lady Knatchbull once more. ‘My husband is a good man , Aunt Cassandra.’ She withdrew her hand from her aunt’s reach. ‘A great man of high virtue .’

‘I have no doubt.’ Cassandra had met him but briefly, and only had hearsay to judge, though that seemed conclusive. She returned to the window, and the gaiety of the sightseers. She really would rather be delighting in the day.

‘Yes, he is proud ,’ Fanny was continuing. ‘And with more than good reason, I might add. But when his own daughter betrayed him, his pride was wounded !’

And that was reason enough to destroy his own family, Cassandra thought with contempt. But she said only: ‘I see.’ And then: ‘Such a pity he could not be with us today. I was so looking forward to furthering our slight acquaintance.’

‘Heavens above!’ Fanny exclaimed. ‘I fear you have no real idea of the Ways of the World. Sir Edward is far too busy for this sort of thing.’

‘But of course!’ Cassandra returned. Though they both knew he was avoiding Mary and Ned.

‘Oh, Aunt!’ The Fanny of old had returned. ‘Who could have foreseen that this battle would go on for so long?’ Again, they held hands.

Cassandra said carefully: ‘There is always that risk: when a bond has been broken with violence, it requires some hard work to repair. Without, it is only too easy to let the weeks drift into months and then years. Until that which was once unimaginable has, all of a sudden, become completely the norm.’

‘My only ambition was to raise a good, Christian family.’ Fanny sighed. ‘I am sure I set out to try my absolute best. I now fear this – this – rupture has become a stain upon all of us.’

‘There is still time to cleanse it!’ Cassandra said urgently. ‘Fanny, dear: there have been ample opportunities to set everything right again – not least, the birth of five babies. They are such a sweet family and, in refusing to know them, your husband only denies his own pleasure …’ Tis a shame he had no time to spare us today, but I beg you: when the next chance presents, then you must act.’

Suddenly, they drew up at the steps of the church. ‘Ah, our turn at last,’ Fanny said with relief. ‘Thank heavens that’s over.’

And Cassandra – who had been more outspoken than she would have believed herself capable – could not agree more.

Once in the family pew, the two women took equal pleasure in the spectacle of the large congregation. Cassandra only had eyes for the Godmersham servants, fine in their livery. ‘Oh, do look,’ she whispered, ‘there is dear Cakey!’ The fond nanny was already wiping her tears.

However, Fanny’s attention was all on the array of nobility. ‘Lady Salisbury , I see. So gracious that she should turn out for this .’

How marriage had changed her, the once-fond aunt thought sadly. The husband’s character had infected her own. Though always regrettable, it was not uncommon. Some couples brought out the worst in each other; others, like Ned and Mary – thank goodness – brought out the best. And, though she had not known the gentleman long, Miss Austen had no fears for the two lovers approaching the altar. They had been tested; endured opposition; forced to wait for so long. This love was true.

And, at last, there they were, at the sacred moment of union: Cassy resplendent in white lace; Lord George a fine figure in uniform. The vows were spoken with proper solemnity; the families moved through to the vestry, whereupon the entire assembly seemed to burst open with joy.