‘Yes, it does, but we aren’t responsible for all of them. We offered to support her in town before all this, remember? That offer still stands. We’re not sending her to the workhouse.’
Ruby wouldn’t want that now, not swimming in silks and jewels with a house to furnish. That was the height of her dreams and she wouldn’t recover from having that ripped away from her. Intellectually Jacob knew about poverty, but he hadn’t lived it. Dora could tell that the gap between her and Jacob on this was too big to bridge at the moment. Yes, she had agreed to consider marrying Jacob, but she had not said if or when she would go through with it. That should give them enough time for second– and third– thoughts. Time for a change of subject.
‘The Austens.’
With a sigh, Jacob accepted they were moving on and took a seat. ‘The Austens– and chaperoning the spinster.’
‘Shall we have the usual division of labour: you do the checks on thecomteandcomtessein the court and high society, and I take the opera singers and the servants?’
He nodded. ‘We play to our strengths. What about Miss Austen?’
‘If she wants us to solve this quickly, then she will just have to swallow her pride and her prejudices against people of my station and come along in her observer capacity.’ Dora grimaced. ‘Quite what my connections in that world will make of her, I do not know.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t smuggle her into my club or the Houses of Parliament so I can’t offer to swap places. You’ll have to come up with a story to explain her presence with you.’
Dora came around the desk and sat on his knee, hoping he understood the signal that they were signing a truce between them. ‘Do you think she’ll wear a disguise?’
He snorted. ‘Remember that I’m in debt to her brother. Please return her to the Austens unchanged.’
‘I can promise unharmed but not unchanged,’ said Dora. She smoothed a finger over his very kissable lips. ‘Now, how aboutletting me show you my new room? I’ve finally got around to unpacking.’
He grinned and lightly bit her finger, sending delighted shivers up her spine. ‘Oh, yes, show me your shoebox. I can truly say I’ve been looking forward to that all day.’
Chapter Seven
Dora had sent a message to Sloane Street that Miss Austen should meet her in the office at ten the next morning. She had instructed that the lady should wear her most fashionable clothes– no ‘country cousin’ looks if they wished to go into the world of opera singers and actors. Jacob had already departed for his club when on the stroke of ten the lady arrived, interestingly without a maid.
Dora held open the door to wave her into the office. ‘You came alone?’
‘I hardly think either of us requires another female companion,’ Miss Austen said acerbically. ‘I’m sure the staff at my brother’s house have better things to do than trail after me.’ She held out her arms to display her gown. ‘Will I do?’ She was wearing a red-spotted muslin trimmed with red braid– a stylish choice. Her attitude was daring Dora to criticise and Dora felt she would not come out well from that skirmish.
‘You will do well,’ said Dora, thinking her own muslin was looking very dowdy by comparison. When she had some time toherself, she really must unpick the seams and turn the gown to extend its life.
‘I understand you will need to explain my presence,’ continued the lady, laughter lines at the corners of her eyes crinkling. ‘I don’t believe you are in the habit of taking a companion with you when you do your work?’
‘You are correct.’ Dora revised upwards her estimate of Jane Austen’s intelligence. Eliza and Henry had not been merely flattering her when claiming she was the cleverest among them. The lady had a talent for wrong-footing her company and seizing the initiative. ‘Do you have any suggestions? I confess I was at a loss when I was thinking about this last night.’
‘I can imagine.’ Was Miss Austen struggling not to smile?
‘Do you by any chance have any musical skills? How is your piano playing?’ Most ladies could play a few tunes on the pianoforte.
‘Tolerable but nothing to boast of,’ said the lady. ‘I would not attempt to pass myself off as skilled before a real proficient.’
‘Then what story can we present?’
‘Are you going to explain to those you interview that you are looking into the death of the latecomteandcomtesse?’
‘Word has got around among those in my world that I am working with Dr Sandys so yes, I was planning to do so.’
‘The truth? Never a bad idea.’ Miss Austen nodded thoughtfully. ‘There is no chance of getting caught out that way. In my case, I suggest you tell them that I am an authoress researching characters for my next novel, but I wish to keep my identity private as ladies of my station do not put their names to their publications.’
Dora frowned. She supposed it was plausible– at a stretch. Authoresses were normally more colourful characters, well known in town like Miss Edgeworth or Madame D’Arblay,not spinster ladies from Hampshire. ‘What shall we say you’ve written, if they ask, or is this your debut work?’
‘I think I shall lay claim to the novelSense and Sensibility– yes, that would do. It came out last year and the author is anonymous.’
‘Sense and Sensibility! Oh, I loved that story.’ Dora had borrowed the book from a lending library in York and devoured it in three delighted bites, rushing offstage to pick up where she’d left off. She’d almost missed a cue as she had reached the part when Marianne met Willoughby at the evening party in London.
‘We Austens also enjoyed it very much. I consider I know it well enough to answer questions should anyone care to ask.’
