Page 1 of Visiting Miss Austen (Miss Austen #2)
Steventon Rectory
3 May 1799
Dear Flissy,
I trust you have recovered from your nasty cold? The weather here in Steventon has been atrocious, and we have not escaped illness ourselves. Cassie has a sore throat that has lasted for three days! As you know, she hates being ill and insists on being up and about but then will complain about feeling poorly. She will not gargle, and short of tying her to the bed with strong ropes, I am not sure what else I can do. But she will recover soon enough, I hope.
But on to brighter news! I have just this morning received a letter from my brother Edward telling me he and Elizabeth are going to Bath in the middle of the month. They will stay in 13 Queen Square and reside there for six weeks. The reason for the visit is not purely pleasure—he has gout and plans to take the waters often. They know I enjoyed my visit to Bath two years past (indeed I talked about it to Elizabeth incessantly), so they have generously said I can join them. But that is not the most exciting part—brace yourself, dear—Edward has said there is room enough for me to invite a friend!!! Of course, my dearest Flissy, I immediately thought of you ...
My stomach leapfrogged as I read further down the page where the dates and logistics of the trip had been outlined in detail. Jane had ended her letter urging me to write soonest with my decision and that she hoped I would think of it as an ‘adventure rather than a burden to be endured’.
Oh yes, very funny indeed. I was sure she was laughing to herself writing that! She knew I would be squirming with delight upon reading her words; and I had to admit, her invitation had come at a most opportune time, though it was naughty of me to think that .
My sister-in-law, Seraphina Fitzroy, had taken it upon herself to visit us from York for a month; and I was longing for a respite. It was a visit that had been foisted upon Max and I, and neither of us had had any say in the matter.
With her tall imposing figure, jet-black hair, and determined chin, Seraphina was a force from the north to be reckoned with. Max always joked that Seraphina had ‘whipped’ his eldest brother, Tobias, into shape; and I would not have been surprised if she had taken a literal whip to him.
Both Seraphina and Tobias scared me. But at least this time, she had left her irascible husband at home and brought along her eldest daughter, Lucinda—a quiet dark-haired girl of eighteen whom I liked a lot. She called me Aunty Fliss even though I was but four years older.
Seraphina’s latest visit to Derbyshire—I had surmised from her various comments—was to escape Tobias’s vigour in the bedroom as she was nearing forty, already had five children, and had no wish to become pregnant again. That was something I was glad I didn’t have to worry about—Max and I were happily childless. But it was a state I knew Seraphina thought should be rectified forthwith, if her remarks were anything to go by—remarks such as ‘These big rooms could do with the pitter-patter of little feet’, ‘Max is so good with his nieces and nephews—he would make such a wonderful father’, and so on were par for the course whenever she stayed .
At first, I let my feelings of guilt overwhelm me, but now I followed Max’s lead and ignored her. Or if that was not possible and she expected a reply, I said something noncommittal and then changed the subject. As Max said, it was our marriage and our choice not to spawn child after child, as was the custom; and frankly, it was none of her business what we did or didn’t do in the bedroom .
But Seraphina was one of those women who liked to make other people’s business her own. And Jane’s letter now fell under her scrutiny as we were having breakfast .
‘I am curious to know who your letter is from, Felicity. Why, you have read it at least ten times in the space of five minutes. ’
I folded the letter and placed it on the table, reluctant to say anything. But as she was looking at me pointedly, I had to say something.
‘It is from my friend Jane Austen, who lives in Steventon,’ I said, returning to my uneaten toast, now cold since I had been perusing the letter.
‘Ah, yes. Clever Miss Austen whom I have heard so much about. What on earth could she have written that has engaged your attention so entirely?’ Seraphina smirked to herself, and I knew what she was really thinking: Whatever could happen in Steventon that would be deemed remotely interesting?
With this comment, she managed to annoy me immensely. Though I had been settled in Derbyshire for over two years now, I was still a Hampshire girl at heart, and I hated it when people looked down their noses at my small village. Steventon was where Max and I had met and fallen in love, after all; and if he could now appreciate the delights of the countryside, anyone could. Besides, Papa lived there; and with my sister, Harriet, now settled in London, I liked to visit him as often as possible. Suffice to say, it was a failing in me, but I couldn’t help divulging the letter’s contents to make her jealous.
‘Actually, it is quite exciting news. Jane is to take a trip to Bath with her brother and his wife in a couple of weeks’ time. And she has invited me to join their party,’ I said, quelling the urge to add ‘so there’.
The rustle of a lowering newspaper and Max’s piercing blue eyes appearing over the top told me he’d heard what I’d said.
Blast! I’d hoped to talk to him about going to Bath in private, not under the watchful gaze of his sister-in-law. My heart sank, and Lucinda gave me a sympathetic grimace. She and Max were very similar in temperament: quiet, introspective, and sensitive. At first, I had thought Max arrogant and cold, but now I knew better. He was, as Jane had correctly surmised, painfully shy in the company of people he didn’t know well. Lucinda too sometimes came across as aloof as she bore the same affliction as her uncle and had needed time to become acquainted with me. But with my natural inclination to make friends, I had brought her out of herself, like I had with Max. However, as he was also stubborn, getting him to agree to this trip to Bath would likely take all my powers of persuasion.
‘How long for?’ he asked .
‘Six weeks,’ I replied carefully, knowing instantly from his tone that he didn’t like the idea. He hated me going away, and I from him. But sometimes it was a necessity, like when my sister was about to give birth. She’d needed me to stay for a few weeks to manage her husband because he was in a flap and making her feel anxious. Everything had gone smoothly for Harriet, much to our relief. But Evan had needed much hand chafing and wine to get through it .
As expected, Max’s eyebrows now shot up. ‘ Six weeks ,’ he echoed, looking aghast.
‘I may not stay that long, dearest. That is just the length of time Jane said they are going for.’
He did not look happy about me going for any length of time.
Seraphina had been in thoughtful silence during our exchange, which should have alerted me that her mind was working overtime .
‘Bath,’ she murmured. ‘Such a wonderfully lively place and so full of opportunities, especially for young ladies of a marriageable age.’
‘Yes. Well, I hardly need to worry about that,’ I told her. ‘I am already happily married.’ I took Max’s hand and squeezed it, and he smiled at me, albeit in a pained way .
‘And your friend Jane, will she be looking for a husband?’ continued Seraphina .
I laughed a little at the thought of Jane scouring the streets of Bath, looking for a suitor. ‘Perhaps. But knowing Jane, she will more likely be on the lookout for material for her next novel.’
‘Oh, of course. She likes to write, like that awful Ann Radcliffe.’ Seraphina wrinkled her nose slightly. ‘Let us hope her novels are better than that woman’s!’
‘I have read one of Jane’s novels, and it was wonderful,’ I said defensively, glancing at Max, who still didn’t know that he was Mr Darcy. Jane and I had decided it was better not to say anything unless the novel got published as he might not like what she’d written about him. But if it did get published and was popular, he might be more amenable to seeing himself portrayed as a proud, haughty gentleman who did not care to dance .
‘I like Mrs Radcliffe’s novels, Mama,’ said Lucinda quietly. ‘They are evocative and wonderfully imaginative.’
I smiled at her and nodded. ‘Harriet loves them too.’
‘I see I am outnumbered,’ said Seraphina huffily .
As Lucinda smoothed her mother’s feathers, I excused myself from the table, thinking I might peruse Jane’s letter again in private and formulate a way to present it more agreeably to Max.
Before I could walk off, he said, ‘We’ll talk about this later, Fliss.’ Then he gave me a look. What he meant was ‘Mark my words, we will certainly be discussing it because I do not want you to go to Bath’.
But I was determined that I would go. Although I was content in my marriage, I had been feeling restless of late and was too excited by the prospect of a change of scenery to pass up the opportunity. A trip to vibrant Bath was just what I needed to blow my cobwebs away!
***
By bedtime, I was in a state of high anxiety and more than ready to go into battle with Max. I had endured his terse silence during lunch and supper and a strained game of whist in the parlour (which I let him win in an effort to make him more agreeable). We were both so strong-willed that I didn’t know how this conversation was going to play out .
Max was already in bed, reading by candlelight, as I completed my ablutions at the nightstand and began plaiting my hair by the mirror, going over my opening argument in my head: Max dearest, I will miss you so much, but it is imperative that I go to Bath .
Finishing with my hair, I took the candle over to the bedside table and sat on the counterpane beside him, smoothing the material of my chemise nervously .
‘Max dearest—’ I began.
But he didn’t let me complete my sentence. ‘You can go, Fliss,’ he said gruffly. ‘On one condition. I expect a steady stream of letters from Bath telling me what you’ve been doing and how much you miss me.’
I let out a squeal. ‘Oh! I love you! I love you! Of course I’ll write. I’ll write every day—morning and afternoon!’ I bounced up and down on the bed excitedly .
Max chuckled. ‘There is no need to go to that extreme. Every second day will suffice.’
‘All right!’
Placing his book on the bedside table, he held out his arms; and I launched myself at him, covering his face with kisses, making him laugh. When the kissing frenzy had died down, I snuggled against him, feeling like I had won a great prize, though I hadn’t had to do anything much.
‘What is all this about?’ he asked, stroking my back. ‘Why this sudden desire to take off to Bath? You were perfectly happy before Jane’s letter arrived.’
‘Well, maybe not perfectly happy,’ I muttered, my head nestled in the crook of his neck. ‘Lately, I have been a little—’ I bit my lip, not wanting to say the word for fear of offending him.
‘A little?’ he prompted and waited for me to finish.
Oh, I may as well say it , I thought. It is best to be honest with him. ‘I have been a little bored,’ I said flatly .
Max didn’t say anything in reply, but his hand stopped stroking my back and rested heavily on my shoulder blade.
‘Not with you!’ I added hastily .
He let out a breath. ‘Well, that is good to hear. So just bored in general?’
I nodded, feeling awful. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful wife. The house and grounds— this place , it is incredible! And of course our home, I love living here with you. But you have the estate business to occupy you and your fishing. Apart from riding George and going for walks, I have nothing to do all day ...’
‘The library is well stocked,’ said Max instantly.
‘There are only so many books I can read,’ I replied. ‘I’m not like Harriet, who would be quite happy to spend all day with her nose in a book. I have no friends nearby to visit, and with Jane in Steventon and Harriet in London ...’ I said, trailing off and feeling terribly ashamed of myself. How dare I not be satisfied with my good fortune! I had secured a handsome husband who loved me dearly, and I lived on a thousand-acre estate. I wanted for nothing. I knew other women would kill to be in my position and would keep their mouths firmly shut in case it was all taken away from them .
‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated. ‘I am just trying to be honest about how I feel.’
To my relief, Max resumed stroking my back. ‘You have nothing to be sorry about, Fliss. I am not totally oblivious to your moods and feelings. I know you have been out of sorts.’ He sighed. ‘It is partly my fault, I suppose. I had hoped you would be happy enough with my company and occasional visits from my family, but I know it isn’t enough for you. Missing your friend and sister isn’t a crime, and that is why I think you should go on this trip to Bath. ’
‘I love you,’ I said solemnly, lifting my head to gaze at him. ‘You know I never want to be parted from you.’
Max kissed my forehead. ‘Nor I you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder, so they say, though my heart already feels as fond of you as it possibly ever could.’
‘Oh, Max!’ Tears welled in my eyes now that I was facing the reality of actually having to be without him for six whole weeks.
I stared at his beloved face and traced my finger along his cheekbone. Emotion threatened to overwhelm me, and I choked back a sob .
Max’s countenance grew sympathetic. ‘Don’t cry, my love. Six weeks is not so long, and we will write to each other, no? Remember when we were engaged, and we wrote to each other to arrange our secret meetings? It will be like that, but without the actual meeting part.’
I giggled and wiped my eyes on his nightshirt sleeve, and he touched my cheek. ‘Yes, it will be a little hard to meet when we are at opposite ends of the country, a hundred or so miles apart, ’ I said.
Max’s gaze met mine, and his fingers that had been on my cheek lowered to undo the tie of my chemise. ‘Perhaps we should make the most of the time we have left then?’ he suggested huskily.
Indeed, I was feeling rather amorous too after our emotional discussion. So with that, I leaned over and blew out my candle .