What Would Jane Austen Do? (36 page)

   The reception seemed a bit surreal to Eleanor. The disparate pieces of her life came together. Family, school friends, coworkers from various jobs, and new neighbors mixed with people from James's life, some of whom she'd met and others who were complete strangers.

   A great number of the guests had gotten into the spirit of the theme and availed themselves of her veritable warehouse of Regency costumes, many from movie productions. At times it felt as if she'd traveled back in time again. Several times she even thought that she caught a glimpse of Deirdre and Mina out of the corner of her eye.

   She endured comments that ranged from her great aunt saying, "We'd just about given up on you ever getting married," to her newest employee's gushing appreciation for the invitation, the paid time off, the trip, and the job. If Kristen hadn't rescued her, the new seamstress would have gone on to name who knew what, the air they breathed? The whole experience of so many people at once was a bit nerve-racking and a little exhausting.

   Dinner, served in two tents on the south lawn, was a blur. She just pushed her food around on the plate. She'd opted not to have a huge wedding cake in keeping with her theme. The dessert function was fulfilled by an assortment of sweets and fruits served buffet-style in the dining room. Finally it came time for her first dance with her husband.

   He escorted her to the center of the ballroom and bowed formally. She curtsied and stepped into his arms.

   "What's the matter?" he whispered as he led her in wide sweeping turns.

   "When I wanted everyone to share my happiness, I didn't realize how overwhelming three hundred and fifty guests can be. How do you remain so cool and calm?"

   "I've been to balls Prinny gave at the palace with two thousand five hundred guests."

   The remark was so Lord Shermont, she had to smile.

   "That's better. The sun is shining again."

   "It's night. The moon is already out."

   "Is it? I can't tell. You are the sun and the moon to me."

   "I wonder how the new flowers look in the moon light?" The garden had been her idea, something she had supervised while he was busy with the architect and contractor.

   He raised an eyebrow. "Quite suddenly I find the subject of gardens fascinating. Shall we continue this conversation outside?" He looked over her head at the other couples who had joined them on the dance floor. With deft moves, he swept her across the room and out the door to the terrace. Hand in hand they ran down the steps and up the white shell path to the moonlight garden.

James rolled to his back and cuddled Eleanor to his side. He looked forward to their little chats, something he once would have thought impossible.

   She crossed her hands on his chest and propped her chin on her hands. But she was silent.

   "I can see the wheels turning," he said, tapping her forehead. "What's on your mind, Mrs. Wright?"

   "Mmmm, I like the sound of that." She snuggled closer. "Actually, I was thinking about that key."

   He groaned. "I knew it. You want to go check it out, don't you? It's two-thirty in the morning. We really should get some sleep. We're leaving in a few hours on our honeymoon."

   "And where are we going, Mr. It's-my-prerogative to-surprise-you?"

   "I've kept you in suspense long enough. I've rented an island, a small island in the Caribbean. We will be totally alone. No students, no employees, no cell phones or email. Just you, me, and a well-stocked bar and refrigerator."

   "Sounds lovely. Ah… no restaurant? Then I hope it comes with a cook."

   "How can we be alone if… you mean you can't cook?"

   "Never learned. My mother died when I was young, and my grandmother pretty much raised me. She was a lousy cook, preferred restaurants, and thought the microwave was among the top ten inventions of all time, right up there with the wheel and sliced bread. She taught me the art of ordering takeout."

   "There's an art to it?"

   "Sure. There's no second chance for the sweet and

sour sauce or extra Parmesan cheese you forgot to order. No waiter to bring you butter or sour cream for the baked potato. If you order from the same place on a regular basis, say Thai on Tuesday, you're likely to get the same delivery person. If you tip well, you get faster service, and they might throw in an order of buffalo wings or cheese sticks for free."

   "Okay. What about in college? First apartment? I couldn't afford takeout then."

   "Neither could I, so I picked roommates who could cook."

   James chuckled. "Well, you've done it again. I was always the roommate who could cook."

   "You?"

   "Is that so surprising? My first job was a dish washer. I hated that, so I worked my way up. I put myself through school working in the kitchens of several restaurants. How do you think I got so good with a knife?"

   "There's something sexy about a man with skilled hands."

   "You can give me that look all you want." He looked down at himself. "But the body will need time to recuperate."

   Only a man who had already made love four times that night could say such a thing with a smile.

   She patted his stomach. "In that case, let's try the key." She sat and climbed over him. "Come on. Throw some clothes on."

   He didn't move. "You don't really expect to find anything, do you?"

   "No. But I won't able to sleep until we look. And since we're leaving, we won't have another chance for two weeks." She pulled her nightgown over her head.

   He swung his legs over the side of the bed with a sigh of resignation. "I suppose I won't get any sleep either until you know there's nothing there."

   "Stop being so grumpy. You're as curious as I am." She tied the sash of her robe and waited for him by the door.

   "But I can control my inquiring proclivity and simply wonder about the key as I fall asleep." He grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. He snagged a T-shirt as they left the room and yanked it over his head as they walked down the hall.

   They descended the stairs in silence.

   The old estate office was in a section not yet reno vated, and what furniture was left had been draped in dustcovers. Eleanor put the music box on the desktop and opened it. Tinkling music played.

   "I don't know why you brought that," he said.

   She shrugged. "I went to get the key, and it just seemed right to bring it along."

   They went to the appropriate place on the wall. The wainscoting wouldn't budge.

   "It appears to have been painted over a number of times," he said. "I should have brought some tools." He turned around, moved the music box to a chair, and pulled the dustcover off the large darkly stained desk. He found a rusty letter opener in the drawer and used it like a knife to score around the molding. Still the wainscoting wouldn't budge.

   "I can't wait to see what's inside," she said, practi cally bouncing with excitement.

   "Someone must have noticed it was loose and nailed it down," he said.

   "That would have been me," a male voice said.

   James and Eleanor spun around with a gasp.

   "Hello, my dears," Deirdre said.

   Two fully materialized male ghosts stood against the far wall, and Mina and Deirdre sat on chairs in front of them. She introduced the ghost who had spoken as her husband, Karel Van Stille.

   Mina presented her husband, Narve Van Stille. "Brothers," she said, as if Eleanor wouldn't have known from the names or the fact that they looked like identical twins, both tall and blond with blue eyes the color of a deep arctic sea. The men bowed formally, clicking their heels.

   James responded in kind despite being underdressed for such formal address. Eleanor curtseyed.

   "I'm so glad to see you," Eleanor said. "Thank you for everything. We bought the manor house with the proceeds from the—"

   "We know, and we couldn't be more thrilled with the way everything has turned out," Deirdre said. "We see you got Uncle Huxley's wedding gift—the music box."

   Mina crossed her arms. "We've been waiting here for hours. It took you long enough to figure out where the key—"

   "It's their wedding night," Deirdre said in a low voice to her sister.

   "Well, it's not like they never—"

   "Mina!" Deirdre said with horror and censure in her voice. After clearing her throat, she turned to James. "Please continue with your task. We're quite as anxious as Eleanor to see what's inside."

   "You mean… you don't know?" he asked.

   "We were away for twelve years, and since we didn't know where to look…"

   "Uncle Huxley gave us the key soon after we sailed," Mina added. "He said when we returned we should have Lord Shermont show us. Well, you know how that turned out. And since we had plenty of our own jewelry…" She looked up at Narve. "Our husbands are very generous."

   The men clearly adored their wives and vice versa.

   "We did search for the jewelry but never found anything," Deirdre said.

   James went to work, using the letter opener to pry away the molding.

   "It was a lovely wedding," Deirdre said.

   "I thought I saw you," Eleanor said with a smile.

   "We quite enjoyed the dancing and the champagne."

   "Perhaps a bit too much," Deirdre said, glancing at her sister.

   "No such thing as too much champagne," Narve said, patting his wife's shoulder.

   "Man, a lot of nails here," James said.

   "If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing right," Karel said.

   "He was always building or fixing something," Deirdre explained.

   "Why don't you ask them about their journals while I work," James said.

   "What about them?" Deirdre looked a bit surprised.

   "It's nothing," Eleanor said.

"It can't be
nothing
if James mentioned it," Mina said.

   "Just a silly idea James's editor had about publishing them and making a docudrama, but I know how much you two value your privacy so…" Eleanor's voice trailed off when she realized the girls weren't listening anymore. They were in a four-way whispered conversation with their husbands.

   They broke apart, and Deirdre nodded to her sister.

   "We think that is a fine idea," Mina said.

   "You're joking."

   "Noooo. The journals tell of our husbands' and Uncle Huxley's scientific accomplishments. The two of us took an active role. Rather remarkable for the time. So we rather like the idea of everyone knowing about our work."

   "Except," Deirdre prompted.

   "I'm getting to that." Mina shook her head slightly. "Except we would prefer if you edited out the um… shall we call them the risqué parts?"

   "And…" Deirdre said.

   "You should have just done this yourself," Mina said to her sister before turning back to Eleanor. "And if they make our story into a movie, we don't want anyone plain to play our parts."

   Their faces were so serious Eleanor stifled her laughter. "I guess I can manage that."

   "I've got it," James cried in triumph, moving the wainscoting aside.

   They all clustered around. Eleanor solemnly took the key from the music box and handed it to him. After some initial resistance, the key turned. James pulled on the door, and it opened a crack. He put his weight into it and pulled the door wide open with a loud creak.

   They all gasped as one.

   "It's there," James said. "Just as when I unloaded the portmanteau and put it all back." He knelt on the floor in front of the cabinet.

   Eleanor sat cross-legged beside him. The three-foot metal cube was chock full of flat leather boxes of assorted sizes and colors. He handed her a black one six by ten inches. She opened it.

   "My sapphires," Deirdre said, clasping her hands below her chin.

   A necklace of linked square sapphires with a drop of one huge pear-shaped stone rested on the black velvet lining with a matching bracelet and earrings. The gold links and bright blue jewels shone as if on display at Tiffany's.

   The next box, covered in green velvet, contained Mina's emerald parure. The next… a diamond tiara. A ruby parure with two matching brooches. A necklace of amber beads and another of ebony disks had not fared as well. The beads were fine, but the stings had disintegrated. James kept unloading boxes, and she opened a rainbow of every jewel she knew and some she'd never heard of.

   Mina clapped her hands. "It's just like Christmas morning."

   "Except this is our wedding gift to Eleanor and James," Deirdre said.

   "Oh, we can't accept—"

   "You must. What are we going to do with them?"

   "Your heirs…"

   Deirdre shook her head sadly. "If the jewels will help defray the cost of your restoration and future preservation of our beloved home, we are well satisfied."

   "It's time for us to go," Narve said gently.

   The four figures floated back toward the far wall and began to fade.