Just Jane by Nancy Moser Read Free Book Online Page B

does not expect to do so, when one has resigned oneself to desiring not to find a person pleasing . . .
    My admission of this sin applies to Mrs. Catherine Knight, the adoptive mother of my brother Edward. Before her husband’s death, she was the lady of Godmersham, and though she could have stayed on in that title, she stepped aside to allow Edward and Elizabeth free rein. She remains during our visit now but will take to her house in Canterbury as soon as it’s ready.
    I admit having apprehension in meeting her, assuming that she, having had more years practice as lady of the manor, would own a loftier air than our own Elizabeth. In that I am proven wrong. If ever there be a woman who deserves every elevation of status and position, it is Mrs. Knight.
    I experienced this firsthand this morning when I walked in the rose garden. I didn’t expect to find company there but turned a corner to see Mrs. Knight bending over a rosebush, snipping a pink bud.
    “Oh,” I said, all eloquence eluding me.
    “Miss Jane, how nice to see you this morning.” She motioned to the flowers. “Do you take to gardening?”
    “Only a little. It’s my mother who has the gift.”
    “Ah,” she said. “But you have other gifts, I hear.”
    I felt myself blush, hoping, but dare not assuming, she meant my writing.
    “Have you been published as yet?”
    I thought of the letter regarding First Impressions being returned to sender. “Not as yet.”
    “You must continue to try. It’s important for a young person to use their gifts. And it’s a parent’s responsibility to encourage the transaction.” She snipped another bud. “That is why I move.”
    I didn’t understand.
    At my silence, she gazed at me. “Your brother Edward must assume his rightful place as the head of Godmersham and all that that entails.”
    “He will do a good job of it,” I said.
    “He will do a better job of it with me absent. If I remain at Godmersham . . . although I would not mean to interfere, it would be a temptation. Yet a son must rise or fall on his own merits and does so best when unencumbered by the status quo—or by its mistress.”
    Her smile was delightful. As was her philosophy.
    “You are very generous,” I said. “And very wise.”
    She shrugged. “I seek to be both but assume to be neither. And I have arranged to be amply provided for from the estate. So you see my generosity is not without self-service.”
    Her honesty was disarming. “I stand by my statement.”
    She offered a little bow. “Thank you, my dear.” She scanned the garden. “Now. Which rose should we chuse next?”
    Yes indeed, my sister-in-law Elizabeth has much she can learn from this lady.
    As do I.
    *****
    Elizabeth gave birth to a child on the tenth of October. Her fifth child in six years, her fourth son. William. A good name. Full of history.
    Two weeks have passed since that happy occasion and it’s time to leave. I’m ready but for one point—Cassandra is staying behind to help with the new babe. And so I will return to Steventon alone, as my parents’ only company.
    And they as mine.
    Mother is not feeling well at the start of the trip. I suspect her glee at the endless pork, dumplings, and oyster sauce caused her to imbibe too freely—with bad results. I admit to my own temptation. When one is offered all form of succulent things . . . and it was not just at mealtime. Edward made it clear that whenever we wanted to eat or drink, we had only to ask a servant, who brought the item forthwith. One can easily get spoiled.
    But with our trip imminent, Mother rises to the occasion. Perhaps the anticipation of arriving home has heartened her indisposition. Although she insists on bitters and asks for bread to settle her stomach, they do their work and she survives and revives.
    We stop the first night at the Dartford Inn, and I half expect Mother to take to bed, but she does not. Although she does decide that she and I should share a room, leaving Father to