I Was Jane Austen's Best Friend (22 page)

‘What did Tom say when he proposed?’ asked Jane pleadingly.

For a moment I thought Cassandra would tell her to mind her own business. On a normal day she certainly would, but she didn’t. ‘He said, “How many hens will you and I have when we are married?” ’

I could see Jane opening her mouth to exclaim:
What!
So I frowned at her and said very quickly, ‘And what did you say, Cassandra?’

‘I said, “Oh, Tom!” ’ And Cassandra smiled even more at the memory.

As soon as the room was tidy we left Cassandra to her happy dreams and went upstairs to our bedroom.

‘Well,’ said Jane as soon as the door was closed. ‘I must say that I can write a better proposal than that.’ She went across to her writing desk, took out a half-sheet of paper and picked up her quill. ‘I’ll tell you
one thing, Jenny,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘I’m going to make sure that all my heroines fall in love with a man who can propose properly.’

‘And who are in possession of a good fortune, of course,’ I said quickly. This ‘possessing a good fortune’ was by now quite a joke between Jane and myself.

‘What do you think of this for a proposal?’ Jane tossed over her piece of scrap paper when she had finished and I stuck it into my journal.

‘
And now, my adorable Laura,’ said the amiable young man, taking my hand tenderly, ‘when may I hope to aspire to receive that reward for all the painfull sufferings I have undergone in the course of my Attachment to you, to which I have ever aspired? Oh! When will you reward me with Yourself?
’

‘
This instant, Dear and Amiable Edward,’ I replied
.

We were immediately united by my father who, though he wasn’t a clergyman, had always intended entering the church
.

I’m not sure what Mr Austen might think of the idea that he wasn’t really a clergyman, but at least this time she had written Laura instead of Cassandra.

Thursday, 24 March 1791

Frank was a bit shy and embarrassed when we met in the stables this morning. Sometimes he’s quite brotherly, but at other times he seems uneasy with me when I am by myself. We had a good lesson though. Frank was very encouraging about my progress as a rider. He wanted me to come with him to Deane Gate Inn for the letters, but I didn’t feel confident to ride my donkey on the road.

When I went indoors, after he had gone, Jane was still practising the piano so I found Charles and suggested that he give his framed picture of the horse to his mother.

Mrs Austen was very pleased with Charles’s drawing. She praised it and immediately got John Warren to knock a nail into the wall in the breakfast parlour so that it could be hung up where everyone could admire it. She’s a funny woman; she can be so cold, but also so warm and friendly. She tried to kiss Charles, but he didn’t want her to in case the other boys laughed at him, so she kissed me instead and told me what a good girl I was and what a comfort it was to have me. I wish she would act like that to Jane, and then Jane wouldn’t be so prickly with her.

But then a minute later, when Henry came down to breakfast and jokingly kissed my hand and told me how pretty I was looking, I saw Mrs Austen look at me with quite a different expression.

The parlourmaid was just bringing in the dish of eggs when Frank arrived back. There was one letter for Henry. He took it reluctantly from Frank’s outstretched hand, made a face over it and stuck it into his pocket immediately. There was also one for Mrs Austen. She left hers lying on the table while she was making the tea and then opened it while she was munching through the dry toast that was all she ever ate for breakfast.

‘Who’s your letter from, my dear?’ Mr Austen was always very obliging. He knew that his wife loved to gossip about her letters.

‘From Mrs Portal.’ Mrs Austen was very thoughtful. The letter was a short one, but she read it through again. I was opposite her at the table and I thought it was probably the third time that she had reread it.

‘John’s mother?’ Henry looked up. ‘Perhaps she thinks that I didn’t give enough money for his horse. He’s her darling only son, you know.’

‘No, it’s nothing about a horse at all,’ said Mrs Austen. She scrutinized Henry from his glossy hair to his well-brushed coat.

‘Who is your letter from, Henry?’ teased Frank, and Henry gave him an angry look. Jane had told me that Henry was living at home for a while as he had got into debt and owed money to lots of tradesmen and a lodging-house keeper in Oxford. I saw Mr Austen look at Henry in a worried way and then at
his wife. She, however, was taking no notice of anyone, but had gone back to staring at her own letter as if she was planning something. When she spoke, it was still in that thoughtful manner.

‘I was thinking that we would ask the Portals to drink a dish of tea with us tomorrow evening. Henry, I wish you would ride over there and take a note from me, inviting them. The young people could have a dance with all of you afterwards.’

‘What young people?’ asked Frank. ‘There’s only one — just John.’

‘They have a visitor.’ While Mrs Austen spoke, her eyes rested on Henry, tall and handsome, his morning coat spotless as always, his white silk stock neatly knotted around his neck, his leather boots polished (by Charles) to a high shine. When she spoke again it was directly at him and her voice was low, impressive and full of meaning. ‘A Miss King.’

Jane looked at me and I looked at her. Jane’s lips formed the words ‘possessed of a good fortune’.

I gave her a smile, but I felt a little hurt at the way Henry so quickly got to his feet, checked himself in the looking glass at the top of the room and then waited attentively while his mother rapidly wrote the note, sealed it and handed it to him.

‘Take it over to Laverstoke House yourself,’ she said. ‘Make sure that you give Miss King my compliments and say that I am looking forward to meeting her.’

Friday, 25 March 1791

The Portals didn’t come to drink a dish of tea with us today. Henry brought back a polite note saying that Miss King was tired after her journey and wanted to reserve her energies for the ball at the Assembly Rooms in Basingstoke. Mrs Portal hoped that Mrs Austen and her charming family would be present. Henry had not met Miss King, as she had been upstairs when he called. Apparently Mrs Portal had spent some time trying to persuade her to come downstairs, but Miss King had not appeared, although Henry had spent half an hour there making polite conversation in the drawing room.

At lunchtime Mrs Austen seemed to be turning matters over in her mind.

‘How did you like William Chute, Jenny?’ she enquired casually.

I replied carefully that I thought him very pleasant, but I could feel my cheeks getting red.

‘He danced with you, didn’t he? Usually he’s keener on playing cards than dancing. His mother despairs of him. He’s thirty years old and no sign of a wife. And there he is, the master of such a fine property.’

‘He danced with all three of the Bigg sisters too,’ said Jane promptly. ‘Do you think that he will make an offer for every one of them as well as for Jenny?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Jane,’ said Mrs Austen automatically.

‘They’re going to the Assembly Rooms ball tomorrow night, you know,’ said Jane warningly. ‘And their little brother, Harris, is going too. That’s probably a plan. They think that William Chute will be fond of children and Catherine will lead Harris by the hand up to William Chute and then cast down her eyelashes, and William Chute will immediately think what a beautiful mother she will make for his children, so he will propose.’

‘Harris Bigg is a confounded nuisance,’ said Henry. ‘He almost lamed my mare the last time I had her out. He managed to fall off his pony just in front of me. He’s the clumsiest child I have ever known. I think he might be a bit simple.’

I wondered what Henry thought about his own brother, George. Jane had said that she was the only one that cared. It seemed strange to me. I had only known George a few weeks, but I was fond of him and I worried about him.

‘Harris Bigg! He’s younger than me!’ Charles stopped eating for a moment, but then carried on again. He still looked indignant, but he liked his food.

‘So?’ Henry was in a sour mood this morning.

‘Well, why can’t I go?’ Charles swallowed his mouthful.

‘You’d have to wear white gloves,’ said Mr Austen warningly.

‘And no one would dance with you,’ said Frank.

‘I’ll dance with Charles,’ I said boldly. Mrs Austen smiled at me affectionately and Charles stuck his tongue out at Frank.

‘Save me a dance, Jenny, also,’ said Henry. His voice sounded very affectionate and I could feel the warm colour rushing to my cheeks. I looked down at the table and then looked up again. He was still watching me with a smile on his face. I wondered if he thought that I was pretty. I wished that it was just the two of us there in the parlour by ourselves. We had never been alone since that night after the Chutes’ dinner party. What did he feel when Mrs Austen talked of William Chute dancing with me? Perhaps he was jealous and that was why he asked me to save him a dance at Basingstoke. If only he knew! William Chute would be nothing to me if only Henry cared for me. But did he? I made myself remember how he flirted with Eliza and forgot me when she was around, but I couldn’t help my heart beating very quickly and I hope that nobody noticed that my breaths were short.

‘You’ll be wearing your new gown, will you?’ asked Henry softly. His head was quite close to mine and he seemed to be trying to catch my eye.

‘We’re hiring a carriage, and Henry and Frank can go on the back. I suppose that Charles could fit in there with them,’ said Mrs Austen.

‘I don’t want to go on the back; Henry and I will ride,’ grumbled Frank, to my relief, as my aunt had
begun to eye me in an irritable way with Henry still smiling at me, and my cheeks were hot with embarrassment. Now she turned her annoyance on Frank.

‘You will do no such thing,’ she said decisively. ‘We don’t want you arriving with mud-splashed breeches. And what about your shoes? You would have to carry them with you. You can’t dance at the Assembly Rooms in riding boots.’ She wasn’t looking at Frank now but at Henry.

‘Would you powder your hair, Henry?’ she enquired, tilting her head as she surveyed him carefully. ‘It would look very good.’

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself exclaiming. I liked Henry’s dark hair, tied behind his neck with a plain black ribbon. Powdered hair always looked so artificial.

‘Certainly not,’ said Henry sternly. ‘I have enough expenses without having to buy hair powder, especially now that they are talking of putting a tax on it.’

‘Still’ — Mrs Austen was trying to console herself — ‘I dare say that many young ladies these days may think it looks old-fashioned.’

‘Don’t worry, Mama.’ Henry stooped and gave her a kiss. ‘I won’t disgrace you. Charles will polish my new shoes with the buckles on them — won’t you, Charles?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Charles eagerly. I guessed that Henry would give him sixpence for doing it. Jane told me that although Henry was in debt, he was
always very generous to Charles, and Charles, like Jane, adored him.

‘How’s James going to get there then? He’s coming too, isn’t he?’ asked Frank, who was still annoyed.

‘James,’ said Mrs Austen with a small smile, ‘will be going with General Mathew and his daughter, Anne.’

‘Really?’ Mr Austen looked surprised but Mrs Austen distracted him by asking him had he finished with his newspaper — knowing that he hadn’t, of course.

‘What shall you wear, Mama?’ asked Cassandra. She was very careful of her mother’s feelings these days, I noticed. Poor girl — she was so relieved at being allowed to consider herself engaged to Tom Fowle.

Mrs Austen laughed. ‘I think my yellow silk will have another outing,’ she said. ‘It’s an old friend of twenty years and I wouldn’t want to neglect it. Thank God I am too advanced in years for this new fashion of straight-down muslin gowns. I like a gown with a good wide skirt.’

‘Jenny,’ said Jane later on, ‘I was thinking that we might try to dress up George one day, especially now that he has got used to having his hair combed and his face washed. There is an old suit in the theatre dressing-up box. My mother made it for Frank a couple of years ago when he was acting the part of a parson.’

I asked her if she was sure that it was worth bothering George about a small thing like clothes. She didn’t reply for a moment, but when she did her answer sent goose pimples down my back.

And this is what she said:

‘I’m thinking of bringing him over one day next week and showing Mama and Papa how he can read some of his letters.’

Saturday, 26 March 1791

Cousin Eliza and James arrived on the stagecoach this morning. They hadn’t told their time of arrival so they drove from Deane Gate Inn by post-chaise. Jane and I were out in the garden gathering daffodils when the chaise, driven by the post boy, skidded across the gravel of the sweep and pulled up in front of the hall door. Eliza was laughing and so was James. He didn’t often laugh; I realized that when I saw him now. He handed Eliza out of the chaise with quite an air of a man of the world, and Eliza dropped a splendid curtsy to him. He whispered something in her ear as she rose up gracefully and she said, ‘Fie, fie, Sir Anthony!’ and they were both laughing as they went up the steps.

I wondered whether Henry saw them.

Jane and I still had a last fitting for our gowns this morning and we had to help with the sewing of the hems, so we didn’t join in the rehearsals in the barn. I kept wondering how they were getting on and who Eliza was flirting with — Henry or James?

Eliza was in great good humour at dinner time. Mr Austen laughed so much at one of her tales that a button flew off his waistcoat and Mrs Austen had to sew it on again.