Jane Austen Investigates by Julia Golding

Author:Julia Golding
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781782643357
Publisher: Lion Hudson
Published: 2020-12-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

The ladies retired from the table to take tea in the parlour, leaving the gentlemen to their brandy, port, and cigars. Jane trailed behind the other females, wondering if she would be missed if she went to bed. Very full meant very sleepy, and no one needed her.

A soft touch on her arm surprised her out of her half-doze.

“Miss Austen?”

Annette had waited for her in the shadows of the staircase.

“Miss Felix?”

“Would you show me the library now?” Annette nodded to Lady Cromwell and her mother. “I don’t think they will miss us, do you?” The two ladies were already seated on the sofa, and Lady Cromwell was displaying her latest silk project with more animation than she had shown all day. The viscountess was either genuinely interested or a very good actress. “And I hate to go to bed without something decent to read.”

“Of course, my lady.” Jane led the way, taking up a candlestick from the hall table.

Jane entered the darkened chamber and set about lighting the candles so Annette could admire it.

“This is as magnificent as I thought,” declared Annette, holding her hands to her breast as she admired the cases of books, the globe that stood in a wooden stand like a giant’s cup-and-ball game, the desks for letter-writing, the racks of the latest prints. “I could almost marry him for this,” she added, though Jane suspected she wasn’t supposed to have heard that remark.

“Is there any book in particular you wanted?” she asked instead.

“Oh no, part of the pleasure is just browsing.” Annette ran her fingers along the first row of leather-bound books. “How strange.”

“What is, my lady?”

“The way these are ordered – geography sits next to biography next to a novel.”

Jane joined her and saw that she was right. “It is a very old library. Some of the works might even have come from the monastery. Perhaps they are shelved by the date they were added to the collection?”

“Then what is Fanny Burney doing here in this case?” Annette was standing by the second bookcase. “This is her most recent novel.”

Her first theory had to be abandoned. Jane made a quick count of the cases in the room and noted the busts of the famous men that topped each one. The answer, when she saw it, was obvious. “It’s alphabetical. Here under the bust of Aristotle are the authors beginning with A. Under the head of Boethius is Bacon.”

“And Boccaccio and Burney and Burns – I do believe you are right.” Annette wandered on, coming to a stop before the model steam engine in front of the next case. “And what’s this?”

“That’s a little engine made by one of the Abbey servants – a kind of toy. I believe it is going to be demonstrated on Saturday for the gentlemen.”

Annette gave a sniff as if she didn’t think very much of that. She opened the lid of the boiler and then the door of the furnace. “Hmm, I see. Very ingenious. Tell me, Miss Austen, what do you think of this place?” She spun the wheel.

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