Chapter Seventeen #2
‘Be that as it may, my mother thinks you need to spend less unchaperoned time with him, and under no circumstances, whatsoever, are you to go to Knole again unless you’re invited with a party of adults.’
I was too tired and emotional to argue further, and besides, I had no intention of ever going near that house again … wild horses could not drag me. But, I was bitterly disappointed that I shouldn’t be able to spend so much time with Thomas.
‘Well, we’ll say no more on the matter. You know I love you so much, Jane, but I cannot be happy if you put your reputation in danger. I do not wish to keep saying this, but you must realise the importance of keeping yourself free from all taint.’
‘Or I’ll end up like La Baccelli, I suppose,’ I said, just to vex her.
‘Oh, Jane, sometimes you’re impossible,’ came my sister’s reply.
Cassy was ready at last, looking a vision in white muslin, and we were just about to go downstairs when there was a loud rapping at the door.
My sister got up to answer it, but when she opened the door, she screamed out loud.
It wasn’t a very loud scream, more like a strangulated cry, and when I rushed to her aid, I must admit I wasn’t far from screaming too.
Lucius was standing on the threshold, grinning from ear to ear with blood smeared on his cheeks. He was holding a dead fox, bloodied and cut, in his arms.
‘I’ve been enjoying a little sport,’ he said, thrusting the animal towards her, spattering her gown with beads of bright blood, ‘and thought to save the fox for you, Miss Cassandra.’
My sister, usually so quiet and the epitome of politeness, could not hide the fear or anger in her voice. ‘Whatever for, Lucius? What would I want with a dead fox?’
‘For you to draw, of course,’ he said, and his lips pouted like a sulky child, and for a moment I thought he might cry. ‘You’re always drawing from nature, and I thought you’d like it. Look, it’s very beautiful, and the fur would make a lovely tippet afterwards.’
The blood was dripping onto his arms, seeping through the fabric in his coat and down onto the oak boards. The dull stare of the fox’s eyes rendered it pitiful, as a fly buzzed round its gaping mouth.
Cassy was dabbing at her gown in horror, though her efforts to repair the damage were useless.
I knew my sister did not know what to do or say so I stepped up to take charge.
‘Please take it away, Lucius, and give your fox a decent burial at the bottom of the garden. And, if you wish to please my sister you will refrain from presenting her with anything like it ever again. Keep your dead animals somewhere else.’
I closed the door and Cassy burst into tears, immediately stripping the blood-soaked clothes from her body, and washing her hands in a basin of water. ‘I cannot believe he thought I’d want such a wretched poor animal,’ she said, ‘What was he thinking?’
‘Killing animals is all he seems to think about,’ I said, as I helped her change into a fresh gown, ‘and whilst I know all boys enjoy some sport, there is something cruel in the way he goes about it. I think he knew your reaction would be one of pure horror, and judging from the expression on his face, I think he enjoyed your revulsion.’
‘Oh, Jane,’ Cassy sighed, turning to put her arms around me, ‘Whatever shall we do?’
I knew her plea came not from considering the question in terms of the present, but in terms of our futures.
She had been half prepared to do a daughter’s duty and consider marrying for money, but even Cassy knew she would go against expectation and avoid it by any means after such an experience.
And, I think we both hoped in our hearts we’d be saved by our beloved parents who, after all, only wanted our happiness.
***
Caroline
Bath, Somerset
December 1975
When I woke in the morning I felt I’d been somewhere else in my dreams - that strange feeling I had whenever I read Jane’s diary was stronger than ever.
I felt her emotions so succinctly, and could visualise everything so clearly that it was as if I’d lived her life.
I knew exactly how she was feeling about growing up, and the changes that were taking place, recalling the uncertainty and fear I’d felt myself, but I hoped there’d be someone kind for her to fall in love with when she was ready.
I knew then that I was going to take the journal with me.
I couldn’t explain it, but I was sure I’d been meant to find it.
I wanted to finish reading it, and then I’d be ready to think about what I should do with it, even if it just meant putting it back where I’d found it.
I could hear the sounds of voices downstairs, and Roger sounding muffled as he called from outside in the street, the noisy banging of the car boot shutting and a door closing, and I guessed he was getting the car loaded for our journey back to Hampshire.
We’d packed the evening before, and my precious Christmas locket I’d worn for the ball was safely in my suitcase.
I wondered at the coincidence of Jane owning such a similar locket, but I couldn’t believe it could be the very same one - that would be too much of a fluke, but I knew whenever I looked at it or wore the locket again I would think of her, and the wonderful time I’d had in Bath.
My clothes for the day were hanging outside the wardrobe, along with my beautiful ball gown, which had a special box all of its own.
I hadn’t wanted to put it away last night, and I couldn’t resist getting up and burying my face in the delicious silky fabric reminding me of all that had happened.
The halter neck straps carried a scent of Harry where his fingers had pulled me closer to him.
I closed my eyes and felt his sweet kiss on my lips, his fingers in my hair, and wished I could bring him back to me.
But, I knew there was no time for dreaming about things that couldn’t be, and I hurried to get washed and dressed.
It had been the most magical time of my life, but now we were actually leaving Bath, in some ways I was ready to go home.
I’d missed Mum, and I was looking forward to spending time with her over Christmas, having all the traditional fun of decorating the house, and eating far too much.
And, another part of me was missing my old life and my work, which was so important to me.
I needed to have time to think, and be my creative self again, focus on what I was doing and where I wanted to go.
I carried down my bag of Christmas shopping, and the precious writing box that contained Jane’s journal, but I couldn’t manage the dress box as well.
It would be easy to dash upstairs after breakfast, I thought, and it needed to go on top of everything in the boot so it didn’t get crushed.
Mrs Partridge had come specially to say goodbye, cooking eggs and bacon for us, insisting that we needed the fuel for the long journey home.
‘Leigh-Perrot, that was the name,’ she said, putting a large flowered teapot on the table. ‘I told you Doris would remember, eventually.’
I knew instantly whom she was talking about. ‘Oh, so they didn’t always live on The Paragon,’ I said, forgetting myself for a moment. ‘Mrs Partridge, that’s such exciting news. It means Jane Austen might well have visited this very house … even stayed here.’