Free Adventures with Jane and her Legacy 01 Jane Austen Ruined My Life by Beth Pattillo

letter she'd given me. Maybe I was only seeing what I wanted to see.
    "So, did I pass the first test?"
    She sighed and laid her napkin on the table. "A task, dear. A task. And, yes, I would say you completed it quite satisfactorily." She paused. "I'm surprised, if you're an Austen scholar, that you've never been to Steventon before. Is this your first visit to England?"
    I shook my head. "No."
    I didn't elaborate. I was beginning to see how my answer to the question looked from other people's points of view. I'd been to England several times but never for my own purposes. Always for Edward's. Funny how when I'd been in the midst of my marriage, I really hadn't had a very good perspective on it.
    "
Hmm
" was all Mrs. Parrot said. "Well, then, it's time to set you about your second task."
    "But what about Jack Smith? Am I right? Was he real?"
    Mrs. Parrot's eyes twinkled. "My dear, as I said, that would be telling." She stood up and crossed to the sideboard behind me. "Your next task requires less in the way of traveling. In fact, you can complete it this afternoon if you like."
    I suppressed a sigh of relief. No travel expenses for the moment, thank heavens. "What is it?"
    "A trip to Hatchards, my dear. On Piccadilly. Do you know it?"
    "The bookshop?" It was where Jane Austen had been reputed to buy books when she visited London.
    "Yes. It's owned by that chain Waterstone's now, but at least they've kept it intact."
    "What do I do there?"
    "Why, buy a copy of a Jane Austen novel, of course." She smiled, her face lit with good humor. "
Emma
, to be particular. And then you must read it."
    "I've read it. Believe me." That one, more than any of her others, had put me on the path to my recent destruction.
    "No, my dear, I don't mean merely enjoy it. I mean for you to read it with a careful eye." She paused and looked at me intently. "And when you have finished"--she handed me the envelope she'd taken from the sideboard--"you may open this."
    My heartbeat picked up its pace. Another letter.
    "But first," she said, "I'll need you to return the one I gave you before."
    I'd known this moment was coming and dreaded it. I'd followed her instructions faithfully. I'd resisted the enormous temptation to photocopy it or transcribe it for myself, because I was sure that when Mrs. Parrot swore me to secrecy, it meant not doing anything other than reading the letters with my own eyes. Why I felt so honor-bound to that promise, I had no idea, except that somehow Mrs. Parrot seemed to belong to another time, an older time, when a person's word had meant a great deal, and breaking it had been a cardinal sin.
    I reached into my purse and retrieved the envelope. "Here it is."
    Mrs. Parrot took it from me without pausing to look inside. I was flattered at her faith in me. I would never have been so trusting.
    "Excellent." She sat back down in her chair. "Now we shall finish our lunch. Thank goodness it's only sandwiches. If I'd given you hot food, it would be cold as a stone by now."
    I suppressed a smile. She was certainly quirky. But still, for some reason, I believed she was telling me the truth. Or at leastI believed that
she
believed the letters were authentic. Time would tell.
    In the meantime, I had a sandwich to finish. And then a roguish Hemingway professor to meet in Kensington Gardens at the Round Pond. Followed by a trip to Hatchards on Piccadilly. And then, with any luck, a long, uninterrupted indulgence with a brand-spanking-new copy of
Emma
.

    The unseasonably warm weather had brought Londoners out to the park in droves. I'd hoped to find a spot on one of the benches circling the pond in the heart of Kensington Gardens. I could have a brief conversation with Barry and then make my excuses. Despite the zing I'd felt when I'd met him in Hampstead the night before, I was having second thoughts. After what I'd been through, I needed a man in my life, even a casual flirtation with a man, like I needed another hole in my head.
    The Round