Miss Austen - Gill Hornby Page 0,93
families, and Jane was left, as she was now, in charge of the household, shunted between mother and household and cook. It was true, too, that she had no time—or no inclination, certainly—to work on her writing. She had put down The Watsons in Bath and not once looked at it since.
Emerging from under the trees and into the clearing, Cassy saw that there was only one solution to all of these problems: a permanent home of their own. If only, if only, she had the power to provide one. The river shimmered before her, and there at its bank, was Edward.
“Cassy, my dear!” His face was ruddy with the morning’s excursions; a noble hound stood by his side. “A capital day, what?”
Linking arms, they walked along together.
“I could not resist it,” Cassy replied. “What have you been busy with this morning, Brother?”
“Been off seeing a couple of the farms, just checking up. With fifteen of ’em, there is always something to worry about.”
“You have so many responsibilities: I cannot imagine you ever know a quiet moment. The house, the estate, not to mention all those children. How many are there now? One hundred, two?”
“Ha! I lost track years ago. You jest, but we might make it to one hundred, you know, if Elizabeth gets her way.”
“I think you should. Not every couple can produce such perfect offspring. You owe it to the world to produce all that you can.”
“Well, we certainly have the space, in that we are fortunate. Indeed, we will soon have yet more of it. The lease is up on the Chawton estate, and I have decided not to let it for a while. We shall use it ourselves this year, for high days and holidays—a bit of Hampshire in the mix will be just the ticket.”
Cassy’s brain lit up. Chawton. Estate. Cottages—Edward owned cottages galore there, as she understood it. And all in their home county! This could be the solution to everything. Here was the answer to her prayers.
“Oh, how we miss Hampshire—your sister, your mother, and I.”
“But you are already there, surely. Southampton is within the county, is it not?”
“Of course, but not the country, Edward. It is the villages we miss, places like Chawton, for example, with hedgerows and pastures…”
“Then it will be a short hop for you to come and visit us there, on occasion.” Edward was expansive. “You will always be welcome as our guests, as you know.”
They both fell silent for a while as they followed the curve of the river.
“And have you heard from Southampton lately? How goes it?”
“I had a letter this morning, and I confess, it has left me a little concerned. I fear our mother is finding it hard to settle there.” In truth Mrs. Austen was quite splendidly robust, and took every decline on the chin. But surely the way to a man’s heart was through his mother …
“Mother! You astonish me. She can withstand anything. It is probably the post-Christmas lull. I expect she loved having James, Mary, and the family. What fun that must have been. And what a pleasure for her to share a house with young Frank again—and the bride and a baby on the way.”
“Oh, Frank is a treat,” Cassy conceded. “He is currently employed in fringing the curtains! Still, it cannot last long. He will go back to his ship, and mother and infant will go to her family. Then we shall be off again, no doubt.” She paused, to select her words. It would not do to push Edward too far. He was a man of business; he liked to make the decisions. This plan must be his idea, or it would not come to pass. “I think she mentioned Alton as our next stop.”
“Alton! But that is so close to Chawton, most convenient, and there are many good town houses there.”
“Oh, indeed.” Cassy spoke quietly, as if thinking aloud: “Not that we shall be able to take one, of course. Once Frank’s family is growing, we can no longer take money from him.”
“Quite so. Look there! A kingfisher.” Edward’s interest in the topic of poor ladies was waning. “That is the bliss of this river. Always something to catch the eye.” He threw a stick, and the dog leaped in to retrieve it. “I do look forward to Chawton. Change is as good as a rest, is it not?”
The dog emerged sleek from the water, and shook his wet coat.
“I say! I have had an idea.