Jane Austen Stole My Boyfriend by Cora Harrison Read Free Book Online Page B

Austen fell asleep in the middle of the story and then Eliza dozed
off, but Jane and I discussed the undercover agent for a long time. We planned a book about him, with Jane writing the story and me providing the sketches.

    After we finished discussing this I began to feel sleepy, and even Jane started to yawn. Everyone woke up suddenly at Andover when the coach stopped. A stout woman got in and sat next to me,
squeezing us both up against the window. Jane started to have a little fun.
    ‘Mama,’ she said in a penetrating whisper, ‘did you hear what the ostler said about the highwaymen?’
    Mrs Austen gave her an annoyed glance. ‘Don’t be silly, Jane. I heard nothing of the sort.’
    ‘Dear Mama,’ confided Jane in a whisper, supposedly meant for my ear, but definitely aimed at my fat neighbour. ‘She doesn’t wish to frighten us, but I know that she has
stowed her diamond necklace in her left boot.’
    Poor Mrs Austen! I doubt that she ever owned a diamond necklace, but if she had I fancy it would have been long sold to buy a couple of Alderney cows. She would get more satisfaction from
supplying her large household with milk, cream and butter than in flaunting a diamond necklace to impress her neighbours.
    The fat lady, however, immediately got to her feet and shouted out of the window to the driver to hand in her small travelling bag to her.
    That was a nuisance, as the four horses had to be pulled up and the bag retrieved from the luggage basket at the back of the coach, but it was very funny to watch the fat lady, her side turned
firmly towards us, rummaging in her bag and stowing things into secret pockets inside her travelling cloak and poking something else down into her boots.
    ‘Terrible times, ma’am,’ she said to Eliza, as Mrs Austen had firmly shut her eyes to distance herself from her embarrassing daughter.
    ‘ Terrrrible ,’ said Eliza, giving the word its French pronunciation. ‘You would not believe the scenes that I have witnessed. The mob! The riots! The burnings!’
    ‘What?!’ screamed the lady. ‘In Andover!’
    ‘Doesn’t seem possible, does it,’ commented Jane gravely. Eliza, by the look on her face, was trying not to laugh.
    Mrs Austen opened one weary eye, looked from Eliza’s animated face to Jane’s, and then closed it again. I think she had decided to disown us all.
    ‘These people are animals,’ pronounced the stout lady.
    ‘ Oh la , the paysans ! The . . . how you say it? The peasants – they say they are starving!’ was Eliza’s next contribution.
    I thought that would put a stop to the conversation, but the stout lady was just getting into her stride.
    ‘Animals, that’s what I call them, greedy animals. Always wanting more. Never content with what was plenty for their fathers and their grandfathers before them. I could tell you such
a story . . .’
    ‘What’s that?’ asked Jane sharply, sticking her head out of the coach window. ‘Not a highwayman, I hope!’
    ‘What!’ screamed our travelling companion and she also put her head out of her window.
    ‘We are being followed, ‘ announced Jane, pulling her head in. ‘No, really. I’ve been listening to the sound of horse hoofs for the past five minutes. They’ve been
getting nearer and nearer.’
    ‘Coachman, there’s a man following us!’ The scream was enough to rouse the whole neighbourhood and we were now passing through a town.
    ‘We’re at Devizes now,’ said Mrs Austen calmly, opening her eyes. ‘Did I ever tell you that I stopped at this very inn on the day of my wedding? Myself and Mr Austen rode
all the way from Bath to Devizes and then on to Steventon, did you know? I was married in a red riding habit and jumped on to the horse straight after the ceremony. Did I tell you about
that?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Jane bluntly, and Eliza smiled faintly and peered hopefully from the window. For someone so easily bored as Eliza, a highwayman seemed a better prospect than the