Jane Austen’s First Love (9 page)

“Do be careful, Mr. Taylor,” said I, worried.

“I am always careful.”

We shadowed him as he progressed, our eyes riveted to his every step atop the wall. He did not seem concerned at all—indeed, he moved dexterously and gracefully, with barely a pause, displaying an athleticism which was truly remarkable—yet I watched with mild alarm, hardly daring to breathe. He only faltered slightly at one point, where I thought he seemed in danger of falling into a bed of roses; but by bending his knees slightly, he regained his balance and continued. Thankfully, he arrived unscathed at the appointed spot, where he hopped down handily from wall to bench to ground, and turned to Mr. Payler with a victorious smile.

“A half-crown, was it?”

“You devil; this is akin to highway robbery. You accomplished that far too easily.” Mr. Payler retrieved the promised coin from his pocket and gave it to Edward Taylor, who flipped it several times in the air with pride.

“Do you want to win back what you lost, Thomas?” Mr. Taylor smiled playfully. “I will double your money if you walk the wall back to where I started.”

“No thank you. You have clearly done this sort of thing plenty of times. I have not.”

“It is not difficult, nor as high as it looks. You cannot play it safe every moment, cousin. Every now and then you must take a chance—step outside your customary sphere.”

“This is a
sphere
I do not wish to exit. I have a higher regard for my own life and limb than you do.”

“Perhaps. But what are you
really
afraid of? That you might break a bone? Are you afraid of death? Or—are you afraid of something far worse than either of these—that you might not
live
?”

The cousins regarded each other in tense silence for several moments. Mr. Payler lowered his gaze but vouchsafed no answer. Suddenly, I heard myself cry:

“I will do it!” The words escaped my lips before I could stop them, astonishing me, I think, as much as my companions.

Edward Taylor paused. “Miss Jane—no. The wager was meant only to challenge my cousin, not you.”

“I have no interest in the wager; only the
challenge
.” I had grown up in a house full of boys. I had accepted dares, and had climbed up, over, and along any number of stiles, walls, and fences with them ever since I could remember. Although sometimes afraid, I had usually enjoyed the effort—but admittedly, I had never climbed anything nearly so high as this. For some inexplicable reason, however, I felt the sudden need to prove to both Edward Taylor and myself that I could walk this wall. “If you could do it, then so can I.”

“Jane!” admonished Cassandra. “Do not be foolish. It is unsafe.”

“Therein lies the challenge,” quoted I, with what I hoped was a confident smile (in truth, I was quaking inside).

Mr. Taylor laughed. “Very well, Miss Jane. Show my cousin Thomas how it is done.”

I walked up to the bench beside the wall and, gathering up my skirts and petticoat, tied a portion of them into a sizeable knot, which raised them a foot or two above my ankles.

“Jane!” cried Cassandra again, her cheeks growing very pink.

“We both have done the same many times,” I reminded her, “whenever we crossed a muddy road or shallow creek.” I knew full well that what I was doing was shocking; on the occasions mentioned, we had been alone or in the company of our brothers.

Edward Taylor held out his hand to me. I took it, and as he helped me to climb up onto the bench, I was momentarily distracted by the sensation of his firm grip against my own—a feeling which was not at all
brotherly
. I reminded myself to let go, and to study the wall before me.

“There is a nice chink in the brick right there to get you started,” advised he. “Rest your foot on it. The vines are old and sturdy; they will take your weight as you hoist yourself up.”

I followed his instructions and carefully accomplished my climb, my feet finding purchase at the top of the wall, where I slowly raised myself to a stand. Once there, however, I froze, my heart seeming to lodge in my throat, for the top was higher and the upper edge more contracted than I had anticipated. I slowly turned, holding out my arms for balance, awkwardly keeping one foot in front of the other, the lawn and shrubbery looming far below me on the opposite side of the wall, and the bench and flower-beds on the other.

“Jane! Come down. Please!” cried Cassandra.

I dared not look at her—I dared not look at anything except my feet and the narrow ledge before me—for if I fell, I might be seriously injured.

“She will be all right,” said Edward Taylor reassuringly. To me, he added: “I shall walk beside you. Should you feel unsteady, you have only to bend your knees, take a breath, and move on.”

I took a step; then another; and another. I began to waver slightly. I heard Cassandra’s worried exclamation.

“Bend your knees,” Edward Taylor reminded me. “Take a breath.”

I did so, and immediately recovered. Encouraged, I slowly proceeded, with Mr. Taylor as my shadow. Being up so high was both thrilling and terrifying, but I willed myself to remain calm. When I passed the rose-beds, I took particular care, not wanting to taste their sharp thorns. I concentrated on each step, one at a time, rather than the goal; and before I knew it, I had reached the end of the wall around the corner from the garden entrance, where Edward Taylor had begun his own walk. I dared to look down now, flush with triumph. Thomas Payler appeared less than enthused by my achievement, but Mr. Taylor, beaming, cried:

“Well done, Miss Jane!”

As I sat down atop the wall, he stepped up on the bench and raised his hands to help me descend. I allowed him to assist me, bracing myself on his shoulders as he lifted me down from the wall to the bench, and from there to the gravel path. It was but the work of an instant, but in that instant, every sense seemed heightened: my heart pounded more violently in my ears; I was aware of his breath upon my cheek, and the warmth of his hands at my waist; my vision was filled with the beauty of his shining dark eyes. I dare say, in that instant, I felt more aware of my every feeling, and of being alive, than I had ever yet experienced; and I did not wish for it to end.

“You are a natural,” murmured he softly, “an athlete worthy of competition with the ancient Greeks themselves.”

My cheeks were burning; I could not reply.

He released me and took a step back. As I unknotted my skirts and smoothed them out, I smiled at my sister, hoping that she would be proud of me; instead I saw vivid disapproval on her countenance, and unaccountably, thought I detected a trace of tears. Before I could discover what this was about, another young lady’s voice rang out:

“Jane! Jane!” It was Sophia; she, Marianne, and Louisa appeared and hurried in to us, all astonishment. “Was that you up on the wall?”

I found myself blushing. “It was.”

“Oh! You are quite mad!” exclaimed Marianne.

“What were you doing up there?” asked Sophia.

“I was enjoying the night air,” answered I casually.

“What if you had fallen?” cried Louisa.

“I suppose it is a good thing that I did not.”

The young ladies laughed. Sophia cautioned her sisters and our male companions: “Promise me that none of you will tell Mamma about this. I fear she might be appalled.”

Everyone nodded conspiratorially except for my sister, who was frowning and would not look at me, which made me cross.

“Mamma is already in quite the mood,” teased Marianne good-naturedly. “How dare you leave us alone with her so long? She wanted to play quadrille, but with you two gone, cousin Edward and Mr. Payler mysteriously vanished, and only five people interested, she could not make up a table without leaving someone out.”

“I will apologise to her before I go,” said Edward Taylor, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, “but I am very glad we left when we did, for I cannot abide quadrille.”

“Speaking of which,” commented Mr. Payler to his cousin, “it is getting rather late.”

“So it is. Pray, forgive us, ladies; I regret to put an end to such a lovely evening, but we had best take our leave if we are to get back to Ileden before dark.”

We all headed back to the manor house, where he and Mr. Payler said their farewells to Sir Brook and Lady Bridges, and then the others. They seemed on the point of departure for the stables; I felt a stab of deep disappointment. Would he not say good-night to me? But all at once, Edward Taylor stopped before me in the drawing-room with a parting bow. “It has been a pleasure.”

His guileless expression caused a fluttering in my stomach. “Good-bye,” I managed, my voice unsteady.

“Not
good-bye
, Miss Jane; only
good-night
.
Buonanotte. Bonne nuit. Gute Nacht. Buenas noches.
”

I could not help but smile. “I shall see you soon, then?”

He returned my smile as he issued through the door, calling over his shoulder: “I shall look forward to it.”

W
hen my sister and I later said our good-nights to the rest of the household, and climbed the stairs to retire, I was still floating on a wave of euphoria, smiling at the memory of the many unforgettable, exhilarating experiences which I had undergone in the past day: our unexpected meeting with Edward Taylor at the road-side; stealing away from the house together in early evening; the depth of our conversation in the garden; the sight of him nimbly walking the wall; the thrill of completing that walk myself; the memory of what it had felt to be held briefly in his arms; the smile in his dark eyes as he bid me good-night.

It was incredible that, only eleven hours before, I had not even been aware that such a person as Edward Taylor existed in the world. It seemed to me that I would, forever after, view my life as having two distinct divisions: that portion which occurred before I met Edward Taylor, and everything that followed.

These happy musings were instantly suspended the moment Cassandra and I reached the privacy of our chamber, for she shut the door and cried,

“What were you thinking, Jane? How could you even conceive of performing such a stunt as that?”

I stared at her, shocked to be the recipient of such hurt and anger from my sister, who was generally so loving, tranquil, and unruffled. “It was just an impulse, Cassandra. I—”

“What you did was reckless and very selfish.”

“Selfish? How?”

“Did it not even occur to you to think how
I
might feel, to see you engaged in such dangerous activity?”

I flushed, unwilling to admit that I had not considered her feelings at all. “It was not so
very
dangerous.”

“It was! That wall was eight feet high! You could have broken your neck!” Tears welled in her eyes. “What if something had happened to you? Can you imagine how it would have affected me, Mamma, Papa, all our family—not to mention the Bridges family, who are so kindly hosting us? Had you been hurt, all should have suffered—but me most particularly, Jane. You are a treasure to me, my dearest sister, my closest friend—I cannot imagine my life without you in it! To see you up there in so precarious a position, in danger (or so it seemed to me) of falling at any moment—I believe I aged a year in those few minutes!”

To see my beloved sister so distressed, and all on my account, invoked similar emotions in me, compounded by a sudden, overwhelming sense of guilt. “Oh! Dearest; forgive me. I am so sorry!” Tears spilled from my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her. “I did not think of any of that. I did not mean to worry you. I saw the challenge in Edward Taylor’s eyes, and I merely acted upon it.”

“He was not challenging
you
.”

I felt her tears against my cheek as she returned my hug. “No; I suppose I wanted to challenge myself.”

“Was that truly your motivation? Or were you, perchance, hoping to gain his good opinion by shewing him how daring you could be?”

My face grew warm. “I was doing no such thing.”

Cassandra drew back from our embrace and looked at me. “You were.
He
was showing off to impress you; and you did the same.”

If there was truth in my sister’s assertion, I could not—or did not—wish to see it. “He was not showing off. Edward Taylor is an enthusiastic, energetic young man; I think he was just having a bit of fun.”

“I do not approve of his idea of fun.” As we undressed and prepared for bed, Cassandra went on, “This must be what Lady Bridges meant when she said he was
a little too wild
. What he did was imprudent and unsafe. He did not consider how his actions might affect or worry us, any more than you did; nor did he seem to care about the consequences, had he fallen and injured himself. And then to encourage
you
to follow in his footsteps! This is wild and irresponsible behaviour indeed, Jane.”

“I cannot agree. He did
not
encourage me; he
tried
to stop me from attempting it, you will recall, but I was very determined, and he did not think to worry us, and had no concern for his own safety, because he
knew
he could do it—he had done so many times before. Did you see with what ease he traversed the wall?”

“Nevertheless: you both behaved very irresponsibly.”

I sighed. “Fine. Perhaps
I
did, I regret the pain I have caused you, and I promise to be more circumspect in future; but I refuse to allow Edward Taylor to share the blame. Be angry with
me
, Cassandra, but pray, do not be angry with
him
. I spoke with him at length during our walk in the garden, and have seen a side to him that you have not.”

“What side is that?”

“Oh! He is so unlike anyone I have ever met! He is charming, accomplished, and so intelligent—and he has had the most fascinating life.”

Cassandra sat down beside me on the bed, and as she brushed my hair, I shared with her the many things that Edward Taylor had told me about himself, his family, all the languages he spoke, and that his mother had died when he was just five years old.

“How tragic for her; and how sad to think of all those little children growing up without their mother.”

“I think he feels her loss very deeply. And yet, look how well he has turned out, despite it.”

“He
is
a very attractive young man, Jane,” admitted my sister reluctantly, “and indeed very charming.”

“Oh, Cassandra; he is more than charming. I like him so very much!”

“I know you do, dearest. But—I cannot help but feel that you behave very differently when in his company. You said so yourself this morning after you met:
I was not myself.
Why, in this one day alone, you have been leaping out of carriages and climbing up on walls in a manner far more rash and exertive than you have ever exhibited on your own.”

“Yes; but it has been so exciting, Cassandra!
He
is so exciting!” We exchanged positions on the bed, and I returned the favour and brushed my sister’s hair. “I cannot forget what he said before I walked the wall:
Should you feel unsteady, you have only to bend your knees, take a breath, and move on
. The more I think about it, there is great wisdom in those words. Should I ever find myself wavering in the attempt of something—should I feel stuck in some way or afraid to take action—I shall remember that maxim, and take it to heart.”

“I suppose it is a good saying, which can apply to a great many things.”

When our preparations for the night were complete, we drew back the white cotton counterpane and climbed into the bed we were to share. Cassandra blew out the candle, plunging the room into semi-darkness. After a moment, I turned to her on the adjacent feather pillow, and said quietly:

“Do you think Edward Taylor likes me?”

She did not immediately answer. “Well: he sought you out particularly, Jane, for our walk in the garden.”

“He and Mr. Payler sought out us both.”

“They did; but Mr. Taylor gave all his attention to you.”

“That does not mean he likes me. He is heir to a great house and fortune—do you think it is too much to hope for, that he might be interested in a girl like me?” Before she could reply, a sudden thought occurred to me. “Oh! How thoughtless I have been. All this time, I have been thinking only of myself! How was
your
walk with Thomas Payler? I am sure he likes
you
, Cassandra! From the moment we first met on the road, he has had eyes only for you. Did you find him amiable?”

Even in the dim light, I could discern her blush. Carefully, she said, “He is rather quiet, but he is an affable young man.”

“Well then! The next few weeks are going to be very interesting! When do you think we shall see them again?”

“As Sophia claims they will be invited to all the same festivities that we are, I should think it will be very soon.”

I rolled over, smiling into my pillow in anticipation.

The next morning after church, the house was all in a flutter with a visit from two dress-makers. Bolts of cloth in a multitude of colours were laid out on the tables and sofas in the drawing-room, where the Bridges ladies were to choose their frocks to be constructed for the Midsummer’s Eve bonfire. At the same time, the dress-makers took final fittings upstairs for the new gowns which were to be worn at the engagement ball on Wednesday. Lady Bridges and Fanny had gone up first, and while the rest of us perused the silks and satins on display, I made the following worried observation to Sophia:

“It is only three days until Wednesday. That is not much time to finish new gowns for all the ladies in your family.”

“I know. I try to get Mamma to think ahead, but it is a lost cause. She always leaves everything to the last minute.”

“Our gowns will be ready in time,” said Elizabeth with a shrug. “They always are.”

“How, I cannot tell you,” added Marianne. “In truth, I feel sorry for our dress-makers.”

“They must have a bevy of elves helping them,” said I impishly, “who work day and night in a workshop in the woods.”

Cassandra laughed.

“What a fanciful idea.” Sophia smiled.

Louisa’s and Harriot’s eyes widened, and they began whispering amongst themselves.

Elizabeth took no notice of my comment. Unrolling a bolt of embellished green silk and holding it up before her, she asked, “Does this colour suit me?”

“It is beautiful,” replied I, struggling to contain a pang of envy, for I had never owned a gown made of anything nearly so fine.

“It goes perfectly with your complexion,” agreed Cassandra, “and I am sure Edward will love you in it.”

Louisa and Harriot now came over to me, their countenances alive with curiosity. “Tell us about the elves’ workshop, Jane,” said Louisa softly.

“We have never heard of one,” added Harriot quietly. “Is there really such a thing?”

I smiled and, leading them to an unoccupied sofa, encouraged them to sit beside me. In a low tone, I said: “There are many such places all across England.”

“Truly?” Louisa’s eyes widened, but she appeared sceptical.

“Have you considered how many ladies there are, ordering new gowns every day, often at the drop of a hat, which frequently require hours and hours of detailed embroidery and trimmings? How do you imagine all the dress-makers complete their work in time?”

“Oh! I never thought of that!” cried Harriot breathlessly.

“If they really exist,” said Louisa dubiously, “why have I never seen one?”

“The elves must remain out of sight—that is rather the point, do not you see? A dress-maker would never wish to admit that she requires so much help; so the elves work in secret, in cottages hidden in the very deepest part of the woods, and it is only the result of their progress that you perceive.”

“Oh!” responded Louisa, nodding in wonder.

“I should love to see one of their workshops,” exclaimed Harriot wistfully.

“So should I,” remarked Sophia, joining us.

“Well, only the dress-makers know where the elves reside, and I doubt very much that they would reveal their whereabouts, lest great ladies like your mother should find out—no, that would be scandalous! But I have
heard
that one such cottage exists in the woods but a few miles off from Goodnestone Park; by all accounts it is a very charming cottage, with white roses trailing round the door, but so covered over with ivy and other vegetation that it is almost impossible to detect unless you know precisely where to look.”

“Oh! How I should like to find it!” cried Harriot.

Marianne, smiling at me, said to her younger sisters: “We ought to take a long walk in the woods sometime and search for it.”

Elizabeth, who had apparently also overheard our conversation, looked our way and said calmly,

“Do not be ridiculous, all of you. Such ideas as you are giving Louisa and Harriot! There are no such things as elves, nor any secret workshops in the woods. Our dress-makers do all the work themselves.”

This pronouncement served to eradicate the delightful air of fancy which had, for some moments, permeated the room. In the brief silence which followed, the girls looked to me and their other sisters to refute this charge; but as no one could bring themselves to do so, they could only be disappointed.

“I told you Jane was just making it up,” cried Louisa to her little sister.

“Were you?” Harriot demanded of me.

I nodded, feeling guilty now. “I do hope you will forgive me. At times, I let my imagination run away with me.”

Harriot shrugged. “That is quite all right.” She urged me to bend lower, and whispered in my ear: “I liked what you said. It was a nice little story. And
I
still believe that elves might exist.”

“I entirely agree with you,” whispered I in return, as we exchanged a conspiratorial smile.