Page 21 of Trusting Miss Austen (Miss Austen #3)

Life returned to normal after the portrait fiasco and all thoughts of Dorian faded into the background. Without the threat of him hanging over our heads, I began to look forward to the future and not dread it.

But I still wondered about Mrs Busby’s prediction. Did I choose the right path? Or was I on the one that would lead to certain death?

One night, having been worrying about it during the day, I mentioned the Mrs Busby saga to Max when we were in bed together. He laughed so much when I told him that I had pushed her over that tears ran down his cheeks. His laughter was infectious, and I couldn’t help giggling too.

‘You silly goose, I love you so much,’ he murmured and kissed me. Telling him made it all seem ridiculous, and I decided to stop worrying about it. Otherwise, I would drive myself crazy!

One sunny morning, I received three letters at breakfast. Three! One was from Papa, one from Harriet, and one from Jane. I opened Harriet’s first. After reading the first few lines, I let out a loud squeal, making Max and Freddie jump .

‘What is it?’ asked Max, lowering his newspaper and peering at me from over the top of it. ‘Bad news?’

‘No, quite the opposite. Harriet is going to have a baby!’

‘Oh! I must write and congratulate Evan then. Isn’t that excellent, Freddie? You’ll have another cousin to play with.’ Freddie squeezed the remains of his jammy toast in his fist and looked unconcerned.

‘She blames it upon our masquerade ball,’ I told Max, reading further. ‘She says, in her own words, “Why do masks make men look so deliciously attractive?”’

Max chuckled, and I flushed a little. We also had been guilty of having our own masked tête-à-tête after the ball.

I opened Papa’s letter next. After reading a few lines of that, I let out another squeal.

Max lowered his newspaper again. ‘What now?’

‘Papa has finally asked Aunt to marry him! I knew he was going to, but it has been months. I thought he may have changed his mind.’

‘Another letter of congratulations to write then,’ said Max, smiling and looking pleased. ‘Does he say where he did it?’

‘Yes, he proposed in the buggy on the way back from a shopping trip to Overton. He said it was rather an odd place to do it as he could not go down on one knee or look at Aunt because he had to keep an eye on the road, but that he decided it was then or never.’

Max laughed. ‘And Aunt is happy, I take it?’

I read further to find out.

‘According to Papa, she is overjoyed. Now. Apparently, at the time, she was so overcome that she fainted clean away. He had to pull over on the roadside to administer smelling salts. But he says she rallied quite quickly to say “Yes, please, Charles” and to ensure he placed the ring squarely on her finger.’

Max and I looked at each other and smiled.

‘When is the wedding?’ he enquired. ‘No, Freddie, please do not smear jam on the tablecloth.’

‘July,’ I said, hastily wiping Freddie’s hands with a napkin. ‘She and Papa are busily planning it now. It is to be a small family affair, and Aunt is adamant that she will not wear white.’

‘That means she will,’ he replied. ‘And peacock feathers too, no doubt. All right, Freddie, you can go and play with Maurice since you’ve made a mess.’

Max rang the bell for Maurice while I hoisted a squirming Freddie from his high chair and plonked him on my knee. He had already outgrown most of the clothes in Max’s trunk and kept me busy—and my arm muscles strong—since we had decided not to employ a nanny. Luckily, Maurice loved playing with him. Motherhood was more tiring, but infinitely more satisfying than I ever thought it would be.

After Maurice had taken Freddie to the nursery, I opened Jane’s letter, having kept it for last on purpose. She had not written for a few weeks, and I was worried about what she had said to my request. Had she been offended?

Steventon Rectory

2 April 1801

Dear Flissy,

Thank you for your last letter. I could not help laughing even though it was quite shocking. I cannot believe that Dorian painted himself into the portrait instead of Max! What a scoundrel. He really is despicable . Perhaps, as you say, the best thing to do is to write it off as a bad investment and throw it on a bonfire.

As for your other much happier news, Cassie and I were overjoyed to hear that Lucy is expecting and that she and Harry are to be at Godmersham in April. We shall endeavour to make a trip to visit them, but the timing may not work as we are due to be in Bath this time next month. As you can imagine, there is a lot to do and still much furniture to sell. Can you believe that Father is making us sell our bed as it is too large to take with us? One should not have to do such a thing!

We have finally found a house to lease at 4 Sydney Place. I suppose it is tolerable, but it will feel very strange to know that it is not simply a visit, and we will not be returning home to Steventon. But I am determined to remain positive, keep writing, and not fall into a habit of moping.

Which brings me to your polite and apologetic request for keeping the events of the past out of my new novels, if possible, and your suggestion that, should I ‘feel the need to use anything I have witnessed or anyone as a character, to please think twice about it’.

Flissy, you do not have to apologise for asking me as I know it could be all too easy to borrow from any of your deliciously juicy goings-on for the sake of entertainment, whether by design or unconsciously. But if anything does happen to slip into a plotline (especially anything about a secret baby), you can trust me implicitly to firmly erase it immediately.

I doubt any of my books will ever be published. But even if they are (oh, what a miracle!), you can rest easy on that account, and you have my word as your oldest friend!

Strangely enough, I have been thinking of a new novel of late. But it is based on Elizabeth and her desire for matchmaking, so perhaps she should be the one to censor me and not you!

Even if I do not end up writing it, I hope this new chapter in Bath will provide me with untold creative riches for my future endeavours. Come what may, dearest Flissy, my eyes and ears are open, and my quill is at the ready!

Your loving friend,

Jane

I breathed a sigh of relief upon reading that she was not offended in the slightest. Once she was settled, maybe I could go and see her in Bath? Now that Dorian was living in London, I wouldn’t bump into him. Or perhaps, to be on the safe side, we could take a trip somewhere else?

I let out a soft squeak as my mind started to concoct a different plan. What about a visit to the seaside, and perhaps Harriet could come too? Before she had given birth, of course, as waddling around a beach with a large belly would not be pleasant. I knew all about that!

‘Jane sounds like she is dreading moving to Bath,’ I said idly to Max. ‘I was thinking Harriet and I could take her to the seaside after she is settled. You know, to give her something to look forward to.’

Max looked at me and raised an eyebrow. ‘You are all heart, my love. All right, if you must. But don’t stay away too long. Freddie and I would miss you terribly.’

‘Of course, dearest, I would miss you both too. And it would only be for a couple of weeks.’

I blew Max a kiss, rose from the table, and hurried to the parlour before he could change his mind. I had to write to Jane at once to ease her suffering and offer some joyful news.

It would be a long letter—at least four pages—as there was much to discuss and plan for our ladies’ excursion!

The End

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