Jane Austen Mysteries 08 Jane and His Lordship's Legacy (5 page)

We should have to look farther afield for the dead man's name.

Poor Joseph, our driver of the morning, had returned from Mr. Barlow's establishment in Alton with a heavy dray, and an ominous object swathed in old linen was swung upwards from the cellar hatch. At the departure of the corpse, a few boys made to follow it into Alton; but the majority of our neighbours dis-persed, hastened on their way by the magistrate's abjurations.

My mother, after an appropriate shriek and fainting fit, had suffered herself to be supported the length of the Prowtings'

long gravel sweep under the eyes of the entire village--and hugely enjoyed her role as tragic heroine. There could be noth-ing like the Austens' descent upon their new home, I thought with some exasperation. First, a delegation of solicitors bearing mysterious chests; and then a dead man in the cellar--all in the space of a single afternoon! We should provide the village with 32 ~ Stephanie Barron

matter for conjecture sufficient to endure a twelvemonth, and feed young Baigent's claims that our household was indeed cursed.

Mrs. Prowting made my mother comfortable for an hour in a spare bedchamber; calmly bade her daughters leave off star-ing out the front windows; and observed that there was nothing like a body to drive folk from their work. She was a lady of sig-nificant proportions, her countenance placid; a woman whom even Death could not disturb. I observed, however, that she clutched a black-bordered square of lawn firmly in one hand throughout dinner--in expectation, perhaps, of being momen-tarily overcome by the Awfulness of the Event.

"I have lived in this country nearly all my life, Mrs.

Prowting, with the exception of an interval in Bath," my mother declared in answer to her polite enquiry. "I do not count my childhood in Oxford--for that was decidedly long ago--and though Southampton is quite southwards, it is nonetheless Hampshire."

It had required several lessons in geography to impart this certainty to my mother's mind; I thanked Providence the point no longer admitted of doubt.

"And you are soon to be joined here in Chawton by two other ladies?"

"My elder daughter is, as we believe, already on her road from Kent; and our dear friend Miss Lloyd--who has formed a part of our household since the not entirely unexpected death of her mother a few years since--is presently visiting her sister at Kintbury. We look for both ladies every day--and Mr. Edward Austen as well."

"Mr. Austen is expected in Chawton!" ejaculated Mr.

Prowting. "That is news indeed! We shall have to organise a party of welcome for the Squire. We shall indeed, my dear."

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 33

"Mr. Austen is always welcome in this house," rejoined his wife comfortably. "He is often in the country, as you must know, Mrs. Austen, for the settling of his tenant accounts. He is wont to engage a room at the George for that express purpose each quarter, and all his folk come and go to pay their respects--and their rents."

"We are quite the family party in this corner of the world,"

my mother sighed, as though rents and their accounting were all the joy she asked of life. "My eldest son, Mr. James Austen, is rector at Steventon, but a dozen miles distant; my fourth son, Henry, maintains a branch of his London bank--Austen, Gray

& Vincent, perhaps you know it?--so near as Alton; and the wife of my fifth son, Captain Francis Austen, has lately taken a house in the same town."

"So many sons," observed Mrs. Prowting. "And which Alton house does the Captain's wife rent, ma'am?"

"Rose Cottage, in Lenton Street."

"I know it well! That is excellent news; you shall have a daughter within walking distance."

"I had almost considered removing to Mrs. Frank," my mother faltered, "on the strength of this dreadful business--I know I shall not sleep a wink in
such
a house--a house of
death . . .
but Mrs. Frank is indisposed at present, and I cannot presume upon the kindness of one in her condition. Her first child nearly killed her, you know."

"You are most welcome to remain with us, ma'am," Mrs.

Prowting said warmly. "I should not
think
of sending you back to the cottage this evening."

My mother looked as though she might accept with grati-tude--but I considered of Lord Harold's papers, lodged for the nonce in the henhouse, and interposed a negative.

"You are very good, Mrs. Prowting, but we are perfectly con- 34 ~ Stephanie Barron

tent in the cottage. A clergyman's family, as you know, is accus-tomed to the Dead."

A pompous speech enough; but Mrs. Prowting looked as though she admired it. My mother was nettled, and kicked my shin quite savagely beneath the table. She had the grace, how-ever, not to engage in public argument.

"I think you said that Captain Austen is serving on the China Station?" Mr. Prowting enquired. "Excellent! Excellent!

We hope to welcome another member of the Navy into the bosom of our family before very long; a young man we greatly esteem--"

"Papa! I beg you will not run on in that unbecoming way! I am sure I shall die of consciousness! The Austens can have no interest in Benjamin Clement--and to be sure, he is grown so odd of late--so inconstant in his attentions--that I protest I have
no
interest in him either!"

This impassioned cry fell from the lips of the youngest Miss Prowting, a girl I should judge to be at least twenty. She was fair-haired, blue-eyed, and full-figured; her white muslin gown was bestowed from neck to hem with fluttering primrose ribbons. It was clear she was accounted a Great Beauty, but I could not join in the general acclaim. Tho' Ann's complexion was good, it bore an expression of peevishness, and she had not the slightest pretension to either wit or conversation.

"Eh, do not be pouting at me, miss!" her father returned fondly, chucking her under the chin. "Young Benjamin is always the most constant of your beaux, no matter how little you are in-clined to notice! Quite the belle of the village, our little Ann!"

It was as well, I thought, that my mother and Ann Prowting had divided the dinner table between them; for I had rarely been so ill-disposed to the rigours of Society, nor been so woe-fy unable to concentrate my energies. My mind was full of Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 35

Lord Harold's bequest and the puzzle of the corpse in our cel-lar. I could not be attending to the insipidities of a country neighbourhood, however congenial the party.

"The Squire was well, I hope, when you quitted Kent?" Mrs.

Prowting enquired. A brief silence ensued; her gaze, I saw too late and with sudden horror, was fixed upon
me.

"My brother was very well, I thank you, Mrs. Prowting," I re-turned in a rush.

"It's a sad business, a gentleman of Mr. Austen's circum-stances being left with all those children on his hands." Mrs.

Prowting continued to study me, as though attempting to dis-cern some likeness in my features--but it is Henry whom I re-semble, not Edward. "A sad business, indeed; but Man proposes and the Lord disposes, as we have good reason to know. Does Mr. Austen think of giving up the Kentish place, and settling here in Chawton, with so many of his family fixed in the neigh-bourhood?"

"I do not think my brother has any idea of quitting Kent," I replied. "All his affections and interest are bound up in the en-virons of Canterbury."

"I should adore to go into Kent!" Ann Prowting sighed.

"Hampshire beaux are nothing to those of Canterbury, I am sure! All the smart
ton
fellows descend upon the place for the races in August, Mamma!"

Mamma did not appear inclined to notice this effusion; and it was the elder daughter, Catherine, who turned the conversa-tion. She was dark where her sister was fair, and retiring in her disposition. We had not yet had five words together from her lips.

"We were very sorry to hear of Mrs. Edward Austen's pass-ing," she managed. "That lady only came to Chawton once within memory, but she left an impression of goodness as well 36 ~ Stephanie Barron

as of fashion, and appears to have been everything that is ami-able."

"Thank you," I said. "We have all felt my sister's loss most keenly; and as Mrs. Prowting observes, my brother's children above all. There are no less than eleven little Austens, and the youngest has not yet attained a year of age."1

Mrs. Prowting lifted up her eyes to Heaven, and then re-treated for a moment behind her square of linen.

"Mamma is thinking of William again," Ann observed in a bored tone, "or perhaps of John. They were both of them odi-ous little boys; I am sure I cannot count the times they teazed me unmercifully, and pulled my hair."

"Ann,"
Catherine whispered fiercely.
"Consider where you are."

But her sister continued insensible of danger.

"Perhaps your brother will chuse a second wife, Miss Austen," Ann suggested brightly, "should he ever return to Chawton. He will not find the ladies so high in the instep as in Kent! We are all easy here! I should set my cap at him myself--but as he is so
old,
I do not think there could be any fun in it. He shall do very well for Catherine."

"Minx," Mr. Prowting said fondly. "She is a sad baggage, Miss Austen."

"Catherine cares nothing for flirtation or good jokes," Ann added with a curl of her lip, "and would not object to so many children, provided she were left in peace with her harp. Lord, Mamma! Only conceive of the look on Jane Hinton's face, when Catherine was presented as the Squire's wife! How you should love to parade it over the Hintons, with their endless preaching about
entailments
and
usurpers.
"

1 It was customary, in Jane Austen's day, to refer to the spouse of a sib-ling as one's sister or brother. The term
in-law
often referred to step-relations.
--Editor's note.

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 37

An appalled silence greeted this sally, but as Ann was en-gaged in adjusting her bodice lace, she failed to notice. Mrs.

Prowting had flushed rosily, and her elder daughter could not lift up her eyes. It required only this united weakness, I sup-posed, for Ann's impudence to rule the Prowting household.

"The Hintons?" my mother innocently enquired. "I do not recollect the name. Are they also our neighbours?"

"Mr. John-Knight Hinton is the son of our late rector, who was a most excellent man," Prowting said with an appearance of discomfiture. "I wish that I could say the same of his son. But Jack Hinton is an indolent fellow, dissatisfied with his station in life, and unequal to improving it by either wit or exertion."

"You are too unkind, Papa." Catherine's countenance was suffused with a blush. "Mr. Hinton's character is good, and his understanding--tho' perhaps not brilliant--"

"--is as high as you may safely look for a beau," her sister ob-served waspishly.

"Ann,"
Mrs. Prowting protested.

"The Church would not do for him," continued the magis-trate with impatience, "--nor yet the Army; and as he is the youngest child and only son, Mrs. Austen, he has been much spoilt. Tho' now fully five-and-thirty years of age if he is a day, Jack lives in idleness with his elder sister at Chawton Lodge, di-rectly opposite the Great House."

My mother glanced from one Prowting to another in con-siderable puzzlement. "The Lodge did not pass to the new in-cumbent, I collect?"

"Dear Mr. Papillon--such a kind gentleman, and so elo-quent on the subject of forgiveness--rebuilt the old Rectory when Mrs. Knight gave him the Chawton living several years since," Mrs. Prowting supplied. "But the Lodge was not in that lady's gift; it was formerly the Dower House, and has passed through the female line to the Hinton family."

38 ~ Stephanie Barron

My mother frowned. "Then I must have seen the place not an hour ago, when you were so kind as to escort me to the Great House gates, Mr. Prowting. I wonder you did not mention it.

And Mr. Hinton's Christian name is John-Knight, you say? And he lives in the former Dower House? Are the family at all re-lated to the Kentish Knights?"

It was the Knight family that had adopted my brother Edward as their heir, and the Knight family that had inherited the manors of Chawton, Steventon, and Godmersham that Neddie now enjoyed. There had once been Knights in Hamp-shire, but they were all died out; and their Kentish cousins had come into these distant properties as a matter of course. My mother's questions were posed in all innocence, but their effect was galvanic.

"Lord!" cried Ann Prowting, "Do you mean to say you are ignorant of what everybody hereabouts knows--that the Hin-tons and all their relations are the last true descendants of the Hampshire Knights?"

"Ann,"
her mother attempted once more. "I do not think it is for us--"

"But, Mamma," she retorted impatiently, "it is beyond everything great! Here Jack Hinton has been saying for an
age
that he ought to be Squire of Chawton--and the Squire's mamma don't even know it!"

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Chapter 5

Chapters in a Life

Wednesday, 5 July 1809

~

A flood of birdsong roused me at half past six this morning. I opened my eyes to find the sunlight full in my face; the bedchamber looks south and the window is still undraped.

Strange,
I thought,
to hear no sound of the sea.
The relentless mur-mur of wave upon shingle was one aspect of Southampton life I should regret.

With consciousness came the memory of the dead man in the cellar; there might be intelligence today of both his name and the nature of his end. I reached for my dressing gown and crept quietly out of the room, determined not to wake my mother--but I need have had no fears for her slumber; the shock and exertion of yesterday, coupled with Mr. Prowting's excellent claret, ensured that she should lie slumbering yet a while.

40 ~ Stephanie Barron