Page 24 of The Austen Escape
Isabel scrunched her face. “Austen’s description didn’t deter you? She has some fine qualities but is also marked asvulgarimmediately.”
“Isabel.” I squeezed her forearm. She was annoyed with me, not Helene. She was angry that I had balked at dressing up and about something else I had noticed. Her eyes had hardened right after she’d dropped my necklace upon the dress. Isabel was ticked with me on multiple levels.
She shirked away from my grip as I addressed Helene. “I loved Mrs. Jennings. She enjoyed her daughters and life and had fun, and in the end was an incredibly practical woman.”
“I thought so too. Good common sense.” Helene’s words held hesitancy now.
“And you, Herman?” I said.
Isabel stood silent.
Herman looked confused, and his eyes clouded with worry. “I... I don’t remember. I haven’t read any of the novels. I don’t want to disappoint Helene. This means so much to her.”
Helene stood and looped her hand through the crook of her husband’s arm. He laid his hand over hers. I could see it whiten as he pressed hers close. No words were spoken, but by looks alone, Isensed he could never disappoint his wife. He took a breath. “She said I could play...”
Helene supplied the name. “Sir Walter Elliot fromPersuasion.”
“She said it was okay I hadn’t read the story. Is that right?” he asked Isabel.
Helene and Herman both looked at her and waited. Isabel’s eyes flashed an entire conversation but her lips remained pressed together, before she remembered her manners and offered a flat smile.
“Are you discussing characters?” The blond joined us. “I’m Sylvia Lotte. I chosePride and Prejudice’s Jane Bennet, and Aaron—he hasn’t read the books either, Herman—will play Mr. Bingley.” She waved her daughter over and held her so she faced Helene. “And did I hear you say Mrs. Jennings? You and Clara will have fun. There aren’t many young girls in Austen, so she will be styled as a young Margaret Dashwood fromSense and Sensibilityas well.”
“You come sit with me, ‘Margaret.’” Helene returned to the love seat and patted the silk cushion beside her. Clara looked to her mom, who gave a quick, eager nod, then sat beside Helene, feet swinging a couple inches above the floor. “We will have great fun together,” Helene whispered to her.
Clara grinned. “Mama says I don’t have to be Margaret in our room, and I can play my iPad there too.”
Helene looped an arm around Clara and squeezed.
I stepped away as they talked on about characters, dress, and activities. Sylvia was keeping up with Isabel. They batted facts, impressions, and Austen trivia back and forth like players in a tennis match.
Clara came over to me and lifted a small plate.
“For me?”
“Duncan is passing these around. I tried one.”
“Thank you.” I selected a small corner of toast spread with brown. “I’m Mary, by the way.”
“You’re not going to like that.” Isabel’s voice, so close, startled me.
I popped the bite into my mouth and widened my eyes.
“See? A country pâté. You should see your face.”
I wiped my face free of any expression. From the set of her mouth, Isabel was apparently still irritated with me. “I know you better than you know yourself, Mary. You hate stuff like that.” She looked down to Clara. “Are there other things you can go and find?”
Clara shoved her plate at me and skipped away.
“I’m sorry if I upset you. Can we call a truce?”
Isabel shook off my apology.
I gestured to the table. “You needn’t have sent Clara hunting for food. There’s plenty here.”
“Gives her something to do.” Isabel picked up a cheese square. “Have you ever noticed how silly adults sound when talking to kids? My nanny used to do that. It’s embarrassing. But kids Clara’s age are the absolute worst. They want to be treated like adults, like you could actually be friends with them, and yet they demand almost as much attention as a toddler.” She turned and surveyed our compatriots. “I hope she doesn’t ruin this.”
“She’s eight, Isabel. She can’t ruin anything. Besides, Austen had plenty of small kids in her books.”
