Once Upon a Future Read online

  “I am most grateful for your kindness, Mr. Mancefield,” I stated.

  I stretched, and was suddenly aware that I wore nothing under the covers but a light shift. His eyes were drawn to my movement, and I blushed in response. I hadn’t done something so utterly silly in a great many years.

  Whatever is happening to me? I thought to myself. Have I fallen into one of Jane Austen’s novels?

  Later

  My “brother” and Miss Austen and Mrs. Chamberlayne came for me in a carriage in mid-afternoon, after I had assured my host and the physician, Dr. Fellows, that I was perfectly all right. I do have a slight sprain, very much like Miss Austen suffered the other day, but can get around just fine. Still, it’s pleasant to be the center of so much attention and solicitude, the greater portion of which, so far as I can tell, seems genuine. Mr. Mancefield, in particular, appears to be much taken with me.

  Jane Austen was bubbling over with news from her sister, Cassandra, who will be arriving here next Monday, and she and Mrs. Chamberlayne suggested a party to celebrate her migration here. I thought the idea sounded like a great opportunity for us, and seconded the notion. Mr. Lawson merely frowned, but seemed in somewhat better humor after Miss Jane begged him to agree. Do I detect there the glimmer of some personal interest?

  But once we were deposited upon the doorstep of our lodgings at Green Park, the proverbial excrement hit the fandango. Jake and I were both immediately rousted into the safe room, where Shorter made his unhappiness with us most evident.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you were doing out there?” he yelled, running his hands back over his balding head. “We have standing orders not to get involved with the natives in timestep situations. There are good and valid reasons for this, like not permanently altering our timeline. What part of this don’t you understand? One more violation, Ms. Wardon, and it’s back to tempus firmum with you!

  “In the meanwhile, you will both keep your distance from Jowell Mancefield, Esq., and you will confine your contacts with Jane Austen to those which are absolutely necessary to complete our visual and audio record of the author. ¿Comprende?”

  I mentioned the party that Jane and Cecil had scheduled for early June, and he threw up his hands.

  “And you can’t refuse, can you, without appearing discourteous?” he said. “Very well, you’ll both attend this function, but Long and I will be hovering in the background, just to keep you in line. Now get the hell out of my sight!”

  Oh, the joys of timestepping!

  Log Entry #11: Ellison Shorter to Time Central C&C

  I am recommending that Time Survey #A0860 be terminated early. One of the primary investigators, Ms. P. E. Wardon, has had several personal contacts with the natives here, and I sense that the mission is destabilizing. We have completed about one-third of our mission objectives as of this date.

  Log Entry #12: Time Central C&C to E. Shorter

  Request approved. Accelerate schedule to capture at least 75% of the target images. Monitor Wardon carefully to avoid any future difficulties. Advance withdrawal date to 7 June 1801.

  —Theo Phelps, Th.D.

  Letter #7: Cassandra Austen to Jane Austen

  Kintbury, Newbury

  Wednesday 27 May 1801

  My dearest Jane,

  Revd Debary has offerd me the use of his coach later this week to make the journey to Bath, & I have graciously acceptd. So you will see my palely loitering face once again next Monday, if God be willing & the creek does not rise.—I much enjoyd your tales of the American Lawsons, who sound to be the most bright & amusing people. I look forward very much to meeting with them, & also to the party that Mrs Chamberlayne shall prepare in their honour. She can be a most gracious hostess when pushd into it.

  I have further news of Miss Euphemia Appleby. It seems that she & Mr Everede are not to be married after all! Mr. E., I am told, took a closer look at his intended bride, & found her somewhat wanting. He decided that he would rather prefer a life of service in His Majesty’s Army, & persuaded Mrs A. to purchase for him a commission as a Lieut., so that the Revd Mr Hector Bolitho might have an unfetterd field in which to bring his prey to bay.

  But Miss Euphemia still prays nay,

  There’s nought else for Cassandra to say.

  Concerning that other matter, I have myself met with Mr S. in the past days, & he has asked me to inform you that he will not agree to your terms. You must, he insists, leave him to his holy meanderings thro’ the literary fields, come what may. I have informd him very vigourously that the Council will never agree to this, but he just says, “fie unto them!” or words to that effect. Dear Sister, the Elders are greatly concernd over this extravagance, & will not allow such unfetterd licence to continue in this manner. I have askd him to accompany me to B. next week, so that this matter may be resolvd for good, irrespective of our interfering interruttores. You may handle Mr S. better than I, perhaps; you surely cannot do worse. Truly, I tire of his posturings. C.E.A.

  Log Entry #13: Jake Lawson

  Shorter seemed shorter than usual today. He received a message from Up Front early this morning, relayed as usual through our transport site at the caisson outside Bath. I find his attitude irritating. He seems to regard his “vast” experience as a prescription to have his own way, even in the minutest of matters. He’s now insisting that we limit our purchases of fresh foodstuffs in the city to only those items which he considers absolutely irreplaceable. No fresh fruits or vegetables or meat. Instead, all we’ve got are these dried concoctions that taste like...well, actually, they don’t have much taste at all. Blech!

  Pat has been restricted to Green Park, but that didn’t prevent a second visit to our establishment by Lady Jane and her friend, Cecil (she pronounces it “sáysill”) Chamberlayne, who’s a strange little bird if ever there was one.

  Mrs. C. seems unusually intelligent, certainly more so than her mousy companion, the supposed author, and she’s uncommonly pretty compared to the other women I’ve seen here; but there’s more to her than these surface impressions might indicate. Her wit, her spirit, her quick repartee, all provide us with constant amusement. She also seems unusually well-read in the classics, and has some knowledge of both Greek and Latin, I think. What bothers me is that I can’t quite gauge the exact limits of her knowledge, although I did try several trick questions, all of which she handled without difficulty. Indeed, she mentioned several authors and sources with which I was unfamiliar.

  But Jane Austen still fails to impress. I find her infuriatingly imprecise when it comes to literary matters, on which she is supposed to be so constantly capable. Pat was bolder than I in pressing these questions, as usual, despite the occasional visitation by and cautionary glance from Herr Shorter. How can I fault her? Something about these ladies just doesn’t jibe.

  In any event, we spent a pleasant two hours in idle ruminations on a dozen non-serious topics. Austen is either a complete idiot or the cleverest person I have ever encountered. I can’t decide which, although Pat is convinced that she’s a fool. I do wonder.

  Log Entry #14: Patricia Wardon

  Miss Austen and Mrs. Chamberlayne did us the honor of presenting themselves at our doorstep this afternoon, and we made a most pleasant and uneventful soirée of their company. I asked about Mr. Mancefield, and Mrs. C. indicated that he was the scion of an old Somerset family, being the nephew and heir presumptive of the elderly Sir Mordecai. He will inherit both the baronetcy and the fortune upon his uncle’s death, which cannot be too many years removed.

  About halfway through the session we somehow ventured into the territory of the classical authors, and Mrs. Chamberlayne recited some Sappho in the original Greek, and then did several delightful impromptu translations of same. Miss Austen still seems to have no idea of what’s what or who’s who with any aspect of literature, and I remain puzzled by her utter lack of interest in and apparent absence of knowledge concerning any of the major writers. I can’t believe this is a ruse. It�
�s just too damned successful.

  Where is the author of Pride and Prejudice and Emma? It must be our dear Cassandra. She will be joining our little group from Kintbury next Monday, and I very much look forward to meeting her.

  According to Shorter, we’re now going to withdraw our team in early June. I have much yet to do.

  Meanwhile, Jowell has invited me to go riding with him tomorrow morning, and even though I suspect the locals will look askance at an unattended lady accompanying a single man on a journey to nowhere, still I look forward to the occasion. After all, tomorrow’s another day!

  Log Entry #15: Ellison Shorter

  We obtained an excellent series of digivids today, both of Ms. Austen and of her companion, Mrs. Chamberlayne. We will proceed to record as much as we can in the short time yet available to us. I remain concerned over Ms. Wardon’s ungoverned reactions to this period. It’s almost as if she were suffering from some kind of temporal psychosis. I must have the lab boys check into this possibility when we return.

  Log Entry (Personal): Patricia Wardon

  Jowell is utterly delightful. We rode several miles into the countryside together, and when it began to drizzle at midday, found shelter in a partially derelict manger hidden in a copse. There was still enough of a roof on one side to protect the hay from the elements, and we sat there a bit, just talking about nothings. Suddenly he kissed me, and I kissed back, and, well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint! I think he was very much surprised by my unladylike forwardness.

  Later, I asked him about Jane, but although he has met her, the Austens haven’t really lived long at Bath, and he doesn’t know them very well. I had the impression that he regarded the family as too poor to warrant much notice on his part.

  We promised to see each other again tomorrow. God, I hope so. He makes most twenty-first-century men look so, so, anemic by comparison.

  Log Entry #16: Jake Lawson

  Shorter is furious. Pat has violated another one of his proscriptions, by going on a date with the local squire. He almost sent her back to the future today, for the third time. I think the only thing that prevented him was the undeniable personal connection that she has established here with several of the principals, a fact that seemed to infuriate him that much more.

  The result of this tirade was that I got named babysitter for my little “sister.” I’m to follow her around, making certain that she stays out of trouble, and that she maintains her contacts only on a professional level. Right! As if I’ve ever been able to control that woman. Next time I’ll make certain that I’m paired with a man.

  Letter #8: Jane Austen to Cecil Chamberlayne

  Paragon, Bath

  Friday 29 May 1801

  My dear Cecil,

  I was very happy to learn that you had postpon’d your schedul’d departure from Bath for several more weeks. My Sister has written to me to confirm her arrival here on Monday the 1st day of June next, & I write to you to inquire if all of the arrangements have been made for our propos’d soirée on Wednesday June the 3rd, & whether you would welcome my assistance & possibly that of my American freind, Miss Lawson, should she be willing. You are aware, I think, that Mr S. will be in attendance upon us all, & I remind you that Miss Lawson’s beau, Mr. Mancefield Esquire, should also be invited, for he seems very sweet on her.

  If you can send to me immediately, I will call on Miss Lawson on the morrow, & see what is what & who is who, & if she has any time to spare us from her many outings into the countryside. I did not know that there were so many sights of interest to be seen by the foreign traveler, outside of Bath itself, but she certainly seems to find our fields & forests & villages most amusing, particularly when in accompaniment with a certain young gentleman, with whom she has been observ’d jowl to jowl. It is entirely & completely delicious. I long to see you soon. I will see you soonest.

  Your dear Freind, J.A.

  Log Entry (Personal): Patricia Wardon

  I finally managed to give Jake the slip whilst he was attending to certain matters of personal hygiene, and headed out the back door at Green Park, right down the street in the opposite direction from where he would have expected me to go. He never did have very much imagination.

  Mr. Mancefield was waiting for me at our rendezvous point. I kissed him and apologized for being so late, explaining that my overprotective brother was becoming somewhat concerned about our advancing relationship. He took me in a carriage to his mansion, where we ate a light luncheon, and then spent the rest of the afternoon in a somewhat more pleasant dalliance.

  “Whatever am I to do?” he finally asked.

  “About what?” I said.

  He sat up and looked right into my eyes.

  “About us,” he said. “About this.” He let some strands of my hair slip through his hands, and then hung his head.

  “You need do nothing on my account,” I murmured.

  “I am promised,” he said, “to the daughter of the Earl of Langdale. She is pleasant enough, I suppose, and certainly well endowed financially, but she lacks your wit, your beauty, and your character. And these things, I find, are worth more to me now than the twenty thousand she might bring to our marriage bed.”

  “But will you feel the same way ten years from now?” I inquired.

  He looked at me oddly. “You are wholly unlike any woman I have ever met,” he said. “You seem to me so much more free, particularly when compared to plain little Lady Bénine.” He sighed.

  “But you will marry her anyway,” I said.

  “Do I have any choice?” he asked. “Until I inherit the family title, my resources are very limited. My father squandered his much lesser inheritance, and I have barely enough money left to maintain even a few servants here. It is a closely kept secret.”

  “And one that I shall never share,” I said.

  “But I am sorely tempted anyway,” he finally said. “Patricia, should I ask for your hand, would you consent to be my wife?”

  It was my turn to ponder the gulf that had suddenly opened up between us. I tossed my head, and then sank back into the pillow, overwhelmed by the prospect.

  “No,” I finally said, in a voice barely audible even to myself.

  “Why?” he wanted to know, clearly surprised that anyone would deign to turn him down.

  “We return to North America in less than a fortnight,” I said, “and my brother would never agree to a connection between our family and a scion of British nobility. We are republicans, through and through.”

  “Let me speak to him...,” he begged.

  “No,” I said. “I know his mind very well, and he will not relent on this particular circumstance. We lost our father and uncle in the late war, and Jacob blames the British aristocracy for pursuing the conflict.”

  He tried to speak further, but I stopped him by pressing my finger to his lips.

  “Also,” I said, “if I married without my brother’s consent, he would cut me off without a penny. And I suspect that your uncle would do much the same.”

  He sighed. “Too true. I would still get the title, of course, and Sir Mordecai’s manor house, which is entailed in the direct male line, but his personal fortune can be distributed as he sees fit, and I would not be fit in his eyes under such circumstances.”

  “Then we should enjoy the moment while we can,” I said, “and not worry overmuch about the rest. And for my part, dearest, I have rested quite enough.”

  Then I made certain that he was both willing and able, and set about learning some additional useful techniques from my riding master.

  Letter #9: Cecil Chamberlayne to Jane Austen

  Bath

  Saturday, 30 May 1801

  My dear Miss Austen,

  I am pleased to inform you that I have now completed the necessaries for our party on June the 3rd, save for the decorations themselves, to which you & Miss Lawson are certainly welcome to contribute, should you find the time. The invitations have been dispatchd to all of those whom you me
ntiond, along with several others. We shall have a regular council of it. I look forward to seeing you here soon.

  C.C.

  Letter #10: Jane Austen to Cecil Chamberlayne

  No 1, Paragon, Bath

  Monday 1 June 1801

  My dear Cecil,

  Cassandra arriv’d this afternoon with my dear Father. She had plann’d to take Revd Debary’s coach from Kintbury, but Father was already travelling up from Godmersham yesterday, & so they went on together this morning. I am so happy to have the best of sisters & freinds here again that I just had to tell someone. Our family is come together once more. We shall call upon the Lawsons in the morning.

  Your ever devot’d Freind,

  J. Austen

  Log Entry #17: Jake Lawson

  We finally met Cassandra Austen today. She and her sister arrived at Green Park about an hour before noon, and both Pat and I were intensely interested in seeing what she was like. But once again, I found myself wondering, “Is this all there is?”

  She was cordial enough, I suppose, albeit a little older and graver than her soon-to-be-famous sister, but there was not the spark of genius that I had expected to find. One of the problems, I’ve decided, is that the women of this period are intended to discourse in public only on matters relating to family, the weather, the neighbors, and such, and absolutely nothing else, since to do so would be to exceed the bounds of commonly accepted behavior. So we are left with just the pleasantries, and only very occasional flashes of what might be the real personality hiding underneath the mask.

  But the general fogginess of the atmosphere has left me groping for any anchors on which to hang my judgments of Cassandra’s character. She hides herself very well indeed; or, possibly, she may be as foolish a woman as her sister.

  Then why do I have the sense that she and Jane spent the entire morning exchanging cryptic comments about Pat and myself? It wasn’t so much what they said as the way in which they said it.