The Jane Austen Society(15)

But she was the last in line of the Knight family, now that her father was dying. The very thing her ancestors had fought so hard against, in adopting Edward Knight, had come to pass after all, and on her watch. She felt such pain over that, a pain far out of proportion to the simple sad fact that she had never been lucky enough to marry and bear a child. That she would feel obliged, from the weight of family history, to mourn for even more than that—for the crumbling Elizabethan bricks around her, for the break in a chain that included the world’s greatest writer—was something a good friend would have tried to talk her out of.

She also berated herself for failing at friendship itself. She had once been one of the most prominent members of the community, sharing the privilege of her beautiful estate, opening it up for fall fêtes and spring fairs and winter tobogganing down the back hill. And she had always had a natural compassion and concern for other people. The energy that she got from learning about others, hearing their stories, and thinking of ways to help them had been a real gift. She resented greatly that for some unfathomable reason, she no longer had the energy for the very things that had always sustained her. If ever there was a recipe for decline, that surely would be it.

She did not mean to feel so sorry for herself—and she was fully aware of the great losses many others in her village had survived. Look at the Berwick family, losing both the father and two of the sons so soon after each other—the two boys in the exact same battle even. And poor Dr. Gray, whose beautiful wife could not have children, and then one day took just one little misstep and died—and now Dr. Gray had to spend all of his days listening to other people’s stories of woe, with the same engagement and care he always had. She couldn’t even begin to imagine doing that.

She also knew that if life was indeed a process of loss, then she had been gifted at the beginning with simply much more to lose: a precious family heritage, and the tremendous comforts of wealth. She might not be fully to blame for losing it all, but unfortunately she was the only one left to blame, and she felt the weight and gravity of that as much as anyone would.

Small raindrops were starting to hit against the windowpanes, and she rang the bell next to her on the plush red velvet seat. After a few minutes Josephine appeared at the top of the stairs that led to the second-floor gallery.

“Josephine, thank you—I do dislike having to use this bell so much.”

Josephine nodded. “I know, ma’am. You were never one to begrudge a trip to the kitchens.”

“Has the solicitor arrived yet, for Father?”

“Yes, ma’am, right on the half hour. He is a right prompt one, Mr. Forrester.”

“I suppose they are discussing the estate, for such a long visit.” Frances squinted out the window again and saw Dr. Gray starting to shelter Adeline from the stray drops with the coat he had taken off. “Josephine, I think Tom and Adam should be finishing up in the barn by now—they were tending earlier to one of the mothering sheep. Why don’t you suggest that Adeline get a ride home in the automobile with Tom, to keep her out of the rain in her condition?”

Josephine went back down the old oak staircase and out into the courtyard with both an umbrella and Miss Knight’s unexpected invitation.

Adeline and Dr. Gray looked at each other quickly as Josephine made the offer on her employer’s behalf, and then Dr. Gray started to stand, Adeline still holding up one side of his coat as shelter with her right hand. With her left she pulled on his sleeve, a movement so intimate and pleading, that he stopped to look down at her again.

“I’m fine, really—the rain is nothing. But I would love to see the new lambing in the barn if I can. We can wait out the worst of the rain there.”

Dr. Gray hesitated a bit, then nodded to Josephine. “Please thank Miss Knight for her thoughtfulness, as always. But we shall do as the young lady suggests.”

Adeline now stood up, too, a little more slowly in her state. Josephine passed the umbrella over to her, muttering, “That coat’s not much up to the job.”

Adeline nodded her thanks and passed Dr. Gray’s coat back to him, all under the protective gaze of the old woman.

“What was that about?” Adeline asked Dr. Gray as they hurried together under the umbrella and along the redbrick path that led from the courtyard down to the medieval stable block. “Did we offend her?”

“I don’t think Josephine Barrow is sensitive to offense.”

“Maybe it’s all that rattling about in such a huge, empty house, just those two old women and that crusty, spiteful old man. I was even a little intimidated by Miss Knight when I was little—although not in a bad way. Just, growing up, she always seemed so calm and elegant, so unflappable. One hardly sees her now.”

“I have long admired Frances. I had hoped she would not end up alone like this. Perhaps it wears on one.”

“Why do you think she never married?”

“Her parents were quite particular, you know, and so her choices were fairly limited from the start. Rather ironic as her own early ancestors were yeomen, not even gentlemen farmers. And goodness knows it’s hard enough to find the right person without strictures or limits of any kind.”

“Did she ever come close? What about you—you’re the same age, aren’t you? Grew up together?”

“The exact same age, actually—we were both born right before the turn of the century, in 1898. Went to school together our entire lives.”