Free The Dashwood Sisters Tell All by Beth Pattillo Page A

to Mimi with a sigh. “I’ll buy you one.”
    We went back into the refreshment stand, Mimi limping after me. As I forked over my pound coin and a fifty-pence piece, I could only wonder if anyone on this walking tour was who or what they appeared to be, and who else knew about Cassandra's diary.

CHAPTER NINE
    E ven my sister Ellen would agree that beauty worthy of Ethan took extra time, so I was a little late for dinner that night. Tom had told us that the dining room at Oakley Hall had once been a monument to Jane Austen, but as he explained before the meal was served, the management had recently redecorated. Gone were the portraits of the Austen family, various prints that depicted Jane's parents, sister, and brothers. The only existing portrait of Jane was a small watercolor sketch, currently housed in the National Portrait Gallery in London—a portrait that all of her family agreed looked nothing like her. So instead of eating dinner under the noses of the Austen family, we sat in modern chrome black-and-white splendor.
    Ethan sat next to me. Even after abandoning me at the church at Steventon to wander in the churchyard, he couldn't have been more attentive. He collected art and antiques, owned a house nearby, was practically a descendant of Jane Austen, and made me forget the gnawing pain on my toes and heels. My skin still burned from where Ellen had doused my blisters with rubbing alcohol on the advice of Tom Braddock. Fortunately for him, Tom sat at the other end of the table.
    “Is the lamb to your taste?” Ethan asked. He leaned toward me, grinning with a devilish air. “I don't suppose it can be as delicious as the company.”
    If an American had said that, I would have found it cheesy, but a posh British accent tends to make everything more attractive.
    “It's lovely. And the monkfish?”
    “Adequate.” He winked, though, to take the sting out of his response. “But again, not nearly as tasty as—” He broke off and stared meaningfully at my lips.
    I forced myself to stay seated, and not leap up from the table and do the happy dance around the dining room. The other members of the group were watching us. I could feel it. Some just darted glances, while others observed more openly. I didn't care. Why would I? Somewhere in the middle of a Hampshire wheat field, a miracle had happened. I had finally found the man of my dreams.
    Now I just had to convince him that I was the woman of his.
    I had been ignoring Ellen, who sat on the other side of me, but she seemed content to talk about all things Austen with the couple across the table. I’d long ago learned to tune out those conversations.
    “I’m excited to see your house,” I said to Ethan. “I’m sure it's as charming inside as it is outside.”
    “It's a bit of a mess at the moment, I’m afraid. But it does have the usual conveniences. As well as the requisite sheep.” He was enjoying this very much, but I didn't care if he was laughing at me a little. That house must have had at least twenty rooms, not to mention a breathtaking vista overlooking a good deal of parkland.
    “How many sheep does it take to meet the ‘requisite’ standard?” Careful, Mimi. Keep it light. And don't let him hear the ka-ching of the cash register in your head.
    It wasn't that I was a gold digger. Most of the guys I’d dated over the years had made a good living, but none of them had been seriously wealthy. I was a modern woman, and while I liked a man to pull his own weight, I didn't expect him to pull mine. But even a modern woman didn't mind being spoiled from time to time.
    “I think fifty meet the requirement. It would take that many again to achieve ‘extraordinary.’”
    Really, how could I not fall for this man? Handsome, charming, rich. With a nicely dry sense of humor. True, he didn't seem to be too handy when it came to the mundane aspects of life, like blisters, but given his other attributes, I thought he could be forgiven that minor