But my interest in the Barnewalls’ affairs, though quickened by my father's observations, must await another day's satisfaction; for the afternoon was much advanced, and my father wanted his dinner, and I confessed to feeling much fatigued in my own right, and to be longing for the quiet of Wings cottage, and my too-long neglected Watsons. The fitful attention I had paid poor Emma in recent days, had left my heroine marooned in the midst of a fairly tedious ball — albeit her first in her adopted neighbourhood — and at the mercy of a small boy, who had been dancing with her far longer than was necessary, owing to my scattered wits. And so, I sat down once more before the fire in the HtUe sitting-room — having crossed through the scullery in order to reach it, the doorway to the hall being now permanendy barred by the bulk of the oak secretary — and applied myself to my writing with every intention of industry.
It would not do, however; in a very little while my attention wandered, from the odious Lord Osborne and the bland Mr. Howard, and the still less amusing Tom Mus-grave; they were all of them pale substitutes for Geoffrey Sidmouth, and my emotions were all alive to the dangers that so threatened that gendeman, and over which I had but little power. He was at once more real, and more vividly engaging, than anything my imagination might summon — and thus a person unique in my experience. For I have generally found the creations of my pen more pleasing, and arguably better company, than the bulk of the men thrown in my way.
With a sigh, I closed up my ink bottle, and gathered up my little papers, and submitted to a dubious glance from my father. “Your efforts do not engage you, Jane?”
“No, Father. The words come only with difficulty this evening.”
“Then I trust you are off to bed.”
“I believe I shall retire, if you have no objection.”
My father gave a look to my mother's comfortable countenance, which bore the ghost of a smile as she laboured over the stitching of a child's undergarment (which should go, no doubt, to St. Michael's Ladies Auxiliary, of which she had become a temporary member), and nodded. “I trust that tonight, at least, you shall endeavour to sleep,” he said, with a slight warning in his tone; and I knew that he thought of my nocturnal ramblings along the Charmouth road, and the mortal danger they had invited.
“But of course,” I replied, with as much innocence as I could muster; and made my way back through the scullery.
It was as I gained the hall, however, and would turn towards the stairs, that I encountered our valuable James. He was engaged in trimming a lanthorn set into an alcove in the entryway. It would smoke, despite our best efforts, and we had all but despaired of its utility, and determined to abandon it for another, of more recent vintage; but I observed to my delight that James had succeeded where less able hands had failed. He is genuinely a master of all things domestic. At my appearance, he stood to his full height, and turned to me with an expression of deference. Such an opportunity for confidence — and beyond the ears of my mother — should only rarely offer; and so of a sudden I seized it.
“James,” I said, in a barely-audible whisper and with an eye for the barricaded sitting-room door. “I would speak with you in private.”
He looked over his shoulder, as though my parents’ eyes might bore through even the oak secretary, and nodded conspiratorially. I turned back into the scullery — but it remained the province of Cook and Jenny, who were setting the bones from dinner to boil — and felt myself in a quandary. Did I exit the front door, my father should hear, and believe me gone on some mysterious errand; I should not put it past him to follow, and leave my mother in some confusion as to his purpose.
“The back garden, miss?” came a whisper from James; and indeed, it should be the very thing. I slipped past him, and mounted the stairs, while he followed along behind — as was entirely proper, for he served to valet my father in the evenings, and was generally engaged at this hour in setting out his nightclothes, and arranging his toiletries upon the wash stand.
Wings cottage has a peculiar charm, in being built into the rising ground at its back, so that the first storey might almost be another ground floor. With a door just off the first-floor hallway, the back garden is suitable for ladies’ use, being accessible to the bedchamber and dressing-room; and indeed, my mother and Cassandra had sat here in the sun of a morning or two, while Cassandra was recovering, and enjoyed the gentle breezes, and the last of the summer's flowers, nodding from the bank. I had not had time to give the garden much thought; but I was pleased to find that two wooden chairs remained upright in the grass, despite the storms of the past week, and that today's sun and wind had entirely dried them. I took one with alacrity, and gazed up at the heavens; the first stars had begun to make their appearance, though the sky as yet held light. We Austens are determinedly unfashionable, and dine early; and so the sun had barely set, though we were some hours already pushed back from the table.
“How may I be of service, miss?” James enquired, with an uneasy glance over his shoulder for ears beyond the doorway. He had remained standing, and could not but feel the awkwardness of the arrangement; for indeed, there was the faintest whisper of an assignation about our presence together in the garden. I should not like him to seem less than at ease, and so paid him the respect due to his situation.
“I shall not keep you long,” I began, in a lowered tone. “Are you perchance acquainted, James, with a fellow by the name of Matthew Hurley?”
“What — Matty the Nob?” he rejoined, with a broad smile. “We all knows Matty. There's nothin’ he can't fix nor find, for a price — and it's allus too high. What you want wit’ Matty, miss? Leastways—” he amended consciously—“if I'm not bein’ impertnunt.”
“You will remember that I had an errand to Mrs. Tibbit.” I leaned towards him, the better to inspire confidence. “About the clothes for the Tibbit children.”
“Right you are, miss.”
“It seems that Mrs. Tibbit believes her late husband is owed some monies by Matthew Hurley, for some job of work they recently performed together; and though the manner of her husband's death must throw suspicion upon all his former activities, not to mention confederates, I felt it my duty as a Christian to pursue the matter on her behalf.”
“Bill owed some money?” James snorted in disbelief; “I reckon ‘tis the other way ‘round. But I guess you're wantin’ the way to Matt Hurley, is that it?”
“In truth, James,”? said, with a pitiful expression of dependence, “I had understood that the fellow keeps such low company, that it should be a penance for any lady to seek him out. I had rather hoped that you might enquire of Mr. Hurley as to the particulars of his dealings with Mr. Tibbit. He might prove more forthright to a man of his acquaintance, and a native of his town known to him some years, than he should to a lady and a stranger.”
James shrugged. “If ‘tis important to you, miss, I'm happy to oblige. But I can't see rightly why you pay such mind to Maggie Tibbit. The truth's as scarce as teeth in her mouth, beggin” your pardon, miss; and from the manner of his death, I reckon Bill Tibbit got what he was owed.”
“I gave the woman my solemn vow, for she was much disturbed in the matter — and indeed, she has many mouths to feed, and might feel the want of coin severely.” I hesitated, wondering how openly I might direct the course of James's enquiries. “I gathered that the labour was a matter of digging, performed for the late Captain Fielding — and that Maggie Tibbit might have gone to the Captain himself, but for his sudden death.”