Jane Austen Mysteries 10 Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron

Free Jane Austen Mysteries 10 Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron by Stephanie Barron

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Authors: Stephanie Barron
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in his elegant youth. But I have had our cards expressly from Colonel McMahon--he is the Regent's private secretary."
    "The gentleman in buff and blue, I collect?"
    "All of the Regent's intimates sport that livery. McMahon had only to hear my praise from Lord Moira's lips, to beg the honour of our presence. Do consider, Jane! The notice of the Regent! What a spur to my banking concerns!"
    "--Or a possible run on them. That gentleman's pockets are perpetually to let; and you should be bankrupt in little more than a week, did his notice prove too great."
    Impervious to caution, Henry merely grinned. "Our retiring Jane, amidst the Carlton House Set! How Mamma should stare!"
    "She should suffer palpitations," I corrected, "and utter a vulgarity. She cannot help but do so--which is the spur, no doubt, to her daughter's deplorable novels."
    "Who dares to say that your books are vulgar?" Henry demanded, momentarily diverted.
    "The proprietress of Donaldson's," I returned dejectedly. "She abused Pride and Prejudice as mercenary, Henry, and not fit to spring from a lady's pen."
    "As to that," he drawled, slipping my arm through his and leading me towards the door, "you should hate far worse to learn it was called dull , and that nobody of consequence could look into it without yawning. You must know by now, Jane, that your books are all the crack! You ought to be in high gig! I have half a mind to bring you into Fashion--see if you do not hear P&P spoken of, at the Pavilion this evening!"
    "Henry," I said, in a voice heavy with suspicion, "you are not going to puff off my consequence before McMahon and his ilk, are you?"
    "Puff off--! Where do you learn such cant expressions, Jane?"
    "From my vulgar mother," I rejoined calmly, "and my fashionable brother. Promise you will not expose the secret of my authorship. I have a dread of its being generally known."
    Henry cast up his eyes to Heaven. "I cannot think why. I should be proud as a peacock, had I done anything half so clever!"
    "And I should as soon ride bareback at Astley's Amphitheatre as admit to publication! Were my identity known, I could not walk at liberty through the village of Chawton! I should be suspected as a spy at every dinner table, every Assembly--and I should never be so frank, Henry, in my expressions; or so faithful a depicter of the world and its follies. Anonymity accords me freedom to speak as I find--and I cherish freedom above all else!"
    "Lord knows you have had little enough of it," he answered soberly. "Very well--I promise to guard your secret. Tho' it shall go hard with me! Do you not apprehend, Jane, that your whole family is bursting to boast of your accomplishments--that we are all devilish proud of you?"
    "Then praise the novels rather than their wretched author," I told him roundly, "and inflate Mr. Egerton's sales! You cannot display your pride more profitably, or in a manner more suited to my taste; for I mean to have one of those gorgeous confections," I added with a nod towards La Belle Assemblee , "as soon as I have put off my blacks."
    W E DAWDLED ALONG THE SHOPS OF N ORTH S TREET, STOPPING now and again to admire a particularly fine picture displayed in a window, or a daring hat, or a zephyr cloak such as might have driven Eliza wild; and after taking a cold collation in a parlour at the Old Ship, drove out in a hired gig along the coast. All manner of natural beauties may be found to the west of town--the fall of boulders known as The Rocks, at the mouth of a little inlet just brushed by the road near Southwick--and the natural wonder called Egypt, just shy of Shoreham, which looks to be the work of antique Pharaohs in its scattering of monoliths, standing upright amidst the sea. With the wind on my cheeks and my curls whipping from beneath my bonnet, I might almost have been nineteen again--and felt lighter of heart than I had in all the sad weeks since Eliza's decline.
    On our return to Brighton, Henry elected to drive out a mile or two

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