What Would Jane Austen Do?

Chapter Nineteen

Two years later

Eleanor sat at the dressing table putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

“This place is fantastic,” her friend Kristen said from the window. She turned around. “I can’t believe it’s really yours.”

“Every creaking floorboard and leaky pipe,” Eleanor said, her words not hiding the pride in her voice. She’d purchased Twixton Manor with a portion of the proceeds from the sale of the Jane Austen books. Even though they’d been renovating for the past year, there was still much to do. And everything had cost more than estimated. The rest of their ambitious plans would have to be adjusted to match cash flow.

“It’s so cool that the two of you met here and now you’re getting married here.” Kristen sighed. “So romantic.”

She smiled her agreement. Funny how the first time around she’d had so many of the elements right, almost as if it was destined to be. The right place. The right time. Just the wrong groom. On the second time two years later, James had been the one to suggest getting married in the garden on the anniversary of the day they met. He’d even agreed to a Regency-themed wedding.

She’d chosen Deirdre and Mina’s tower rooms to dress in, for old time’s sake. There had been no reports of the ghosts making an appearance. Of course, she’d told James some of what had happened, but since he had never remembered much, she’d couched it in terms of a dream.

A knock sounded on the door.

“I’ll get that. You’d better put on your dress.” Kristen walked into the sitting room. “Who is it?” she called through the door.

“I need to speak to Eleanor.”

“You can’t see her now. It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding.”

Eleanor heard the edge of agitation in his voice, and since he so rarely got upset about anything, she decided she’d better see what the problem was. She grabbed her robe and shrugged it on while she walked. She entered the sitting room as she tied the sash.

“It’s all right,” Eleanor said to her friend. “Open the door.”

James stepped in, already dressed in his wedding finery, sans tall hat. The dove-gray tails, embroidered blue waistcoat, and charcoal gray pants were a perfect foil for his snowy cravat and stormy eyes. He carried a present, about ten inches square, wrapped in shiny white paper and tied with white and silver ribbon.

Kristen stabbed a finger in his direction. “You have five minutes,” she said before ducking around him and closing the door behind herself.

“She’s rather bossy,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.

“She’s the perfect choice to run the L.A. shop.” Since she and James would be living in England, Eleanor planned to open an overseas branch of her successful costume-making business. “What’s that?” she asked with a gesture to the box.

“I thought we agreed to not get each other gifts. The reestablishment of the garden would be our present to each other.”

“We did.”

He stared at her as if expecting her to say more. She cautioned herself to proceed with care. James could be a bit touchy where money matters were concerned. His pride. Not that he was poor by any means. He had a wonderful job at Oxford that he loved, his doctoral thesis had been published to critical acclaim, and he had even turned his research into three successful historical novels. It was just that he had been shocked and amazed, as had she, at the fortune brought in by the Austen papers and first editions.

“Then why did you leave this on my desk?” James had taken one of the rooms in the north wing near their bedroom suite to use as an office.

“Me? I’ve never seen that before.”

“The other wedding gifts are downstairs in the parlor. Why would this one—”

“Did you read the card?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Perhaps it’s inside.”

He gave the present to her.

“It’s heavy.” She set it down on the table and unwrapped it. Inside was a silver box. The cloisonne design on top depicted a man and woman in Regency dress in a garden. When she opened it, the tinkle of music filled the air. “How lovely.”

He looked over her shoulder. “Is there a card?”

“No. Just an old key.”

He reached around her and slowly picked it up. “This … is the key to the safe that I gave Huxley after I put the jewelry back … I … I remember. I remember everything. It wasn’t a dream. I remember the ghosts, time travel, getting beat up, Lord Shermont, Digby, and …”

She spun around and hugged him.

He pulled back to look her in the eye. “And I remember you, Eleanor. You were there. You weren’t dreaming either.”

She nodded and shook her head in turn.

“You might have told me.”

“Would you have believed me?”

“With my head? Probably not. With my heart … always. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Both times.” He kissed her gently and thoroughly.

“I wonder how the key got here,” she said.

“You don’t suppose the jewels are still hidden in the wall after all these years.”

“Let’s find out,” she said with a grin.

There was a knock on the door. “Hey, you two. We have a wedding to go to,” Kristen called through the door.

“I guess it will have to wait until after the reception,” Eleanor said.

He smacked his head. “I forgot to tell you. Carol’s flight finally made it, and she arrived about an hour ago. I asked Helga to put her in the blue room.”

Eleanor nodded. One wing of the house was still as it was when it was an inn, which had come in handy with all the wedding guests. Their small staff had been stretched to the limit, even with the addition of a veritable army of temporary workers. “You aren’t going to spend the evening talking to your editor about your next book, are you?”

“No. In fact, she wants to talk to you about Deirdre and Mina’s journals that you mentioned last time we were in New York. She’s thinking book and docudrama. Simultaneous release. Could be big.”

“Oh.”

“What’s the matter? That’s good news.”

“I only mentioned them in relation to the Jane Austen memorabilia. Their story isn’t mine to tell. I really doubt they would want their journals made public.”

“Time’s up,” Kristen called. “On the count of ten, I’m coming in.”

“It’s not something you have to decide right now. The only thing you have to decide is whether you still want to marry me.”

She smiled. “Absolutely. In about fifteen minutes, if I can get dressed that fast.” She turned her face toward him for another kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“If you keep that up,” he said, “you’ll have to get married in your bathrobe.”

“Ready or not,” Kristen called, “here I—”

James stepped back and swung the door open. Kristen, hand firmly on the knob, stumbled headlong into the room.

“You ladies should really think about hurrying. The ceremony starts in twelve minutes,” he added over his shoulder as he left.

Kristen let out a huff of exasperation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Eleanor said. “I’ve always been a fast dresser.”

“Take your time,” Kristen said. She, of course, had been dressed in her light turquoise maid of honor outfit for at least an hour. “It’s not every day you get married, and it’s not like they can start without you.”

Exactly nine minutes later, Eleanor started down the main stairway. Her cream silk dress was made in the empire style, cut full in the back, even though there wasn’t a train. Thin blue satin ribbons were interwoven through the lace edging on her small puffed sleeves. The long veil that she had draped over her arm was designed to pool behind her, thus allowing the butterfly pattern of the lace to be visible against the sunny yellow runner she’d chosen. The only jewelry she wore was her engagement ring, the tiny diamond stud earrings James had given her on the anniversary of their first date, and, of course, her amber cross necklace.

Her father waited below to escort her to the garden and walk her down the aisle. He looked quite handsome and slightly uncomfortable in his Regency attire.

“You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen,” he said. “Your mother would have been so proud of you.”

She gave him a hug while she blinked away a tear.

At the arbor that marked the beginning of the garden path, they paused for Kristen to arrange the long veil behind her. The wedding planner handed them their bouquets and started Kristen down the aisle.

While they waited for the bridal march to start, Dad said, “This is the moment every father fears from the moment his daughter is born. I guess I’m supposed to say something wise, but …” He patted her hand and swallowed. “I’ll drive the getaway car if you want to ditch this shindig. It’s not too late.”

“Dad! I love James and want to marry him more than anything else in the world.”

“Good. I just wanted you to know you had an option. I support whatever decision you make.”

“That’s the sweetest, most loving thing you could have said.” She kissed his cheek. “You are a wise man.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” As she said it she suddenly felt nervous, not for what she was doing, but the how. Would she get down the aisle without tripping and falling? Would she get the words out without stuttering or mixing them up?

Then she looked up and saw James. The love that shone from his eyes made her feel as though she could do anything, even fly, if he were by her side.

The chairs had been set up facing a flower-covered arbor on the western boundary, and as they said I do, the sunset painted the sky glorious colors. The guests had been instructed to open their small white boxes as the new Mr. and Mrs. James B. Wright walked up the aisle. A cloud of yellow butterflies, their transformation from caterpillars scientifically timed to the day and hour, took flight and swirled around them.

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 moonlight?” 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 dishwasher. 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 renovated, 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, practically 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.

Eleanor jumped up, dumping the jewelry on the floor, and stepped forward. “Wait! Will we ever see you again?”

“No. You have mended the mistakes of the past and set yourself on the right path for the future. We are released and can move on to other activities,” Deirdre said. “This is good-bye.”

The gentlemen bowed, and Mina, with a sad smile and a tear in her eye, waved. They all faded into mist.

James stepped to Eleanor’s side and slipped his arm around her waist.

Suddenly Mina reappeared. “Of course, we will watch over all your children. But it would be sweet if you named at least two girls Mina and Deirdre. Oh, and invite your friend Kristen back soon. She and James’s architect friend are perfect—”

“Mina!” Deirdre’s disembodied voice crackled with electricity.

“Oops!” With a snap, Mina disappeared.

Eleanor turned into James’s embrace, her gentle tears falling unchecked.

“What did she mean by all your children and at least two girls?” he said.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Eleanor said with a sniff.

“There’s no way they can see into the future.” She smiled into his chest, hugging her secret to her heart just a little longer.

The End

(or The Beginning, depending on your point of view.)