A Jane Austen Encounter Read Online Free PDF Page A

goddess Sulis Minerva attracted visitors from all over northwest Europe, the sign said.
    “Wonderful, isn’t it,” Richard said as he led Elizabeth back to their table, “how traditions can continue over hundreds, maybe even thousands of years.” He paused. “Those Roman tiles and pottery bits give me hope that there could still be something to be found for my research, if one only knew where to look.”
    “Certainly there will be something.” Elizabeth put more assurance in her voice than she felt. So much had been done on all the Austen topics. Still . . . “There’s new scholarship all the time. I remember just a few years ago hearing about a librarian in the eastern United States who found a manuscript in Beethoven’s own hand. I think it was auctioned for several million dollars.”
    Richard smiled as he held her chair for her to sit. “Hmm. Producing a manuscript in Jane’s own hand would certainly qualify as a worthwhile sabbatical project.”
    Elizabeth leaned across the table to continue their conversation, aware of how close the tables were to each other and not wanting to disturb the diner sitting with his back only a few inches from her. “Richard, tell me more about that rare book of The Watsons you discovered today.”
    “Hardly ‘discovered.’ More like ‘noticed’—or to tell the truth—‘bumped into.’ But it did look like an interesting read.” They talked about the project Jane abandoned in Bath, and then began speculating on what Claire’s box of assorted papers might contain until a waiter set their orders before them. Elizabeth savored her own choice, and then traded bites of Richard’s breast of chicken stuffed with leek and bacon in a mushroom-and-Madeira sauce.
    Later, their appetites pleasantly sated, they strolled back in front of the Abbey. Music floated to them on the soft evening air as buskers performed for small groups of tourists clustered around the churchyard. Elizabeth slipped her arm through Richard’s and matched her step to his. Nearest to them, a violinist was playing a Mozart air. Across the way, a young man in a redcoat uniform, such as the officers Kitty and Lydia Bennet chased after might have worn, played a lively tune on a pipe.
    They stood for a while, drinking it all in, letting the others mill around them. “And to think—this is real. Not some stage set.” Elizabeth leaned her head against Richard’s shoulder, neither expecting nor requiring a reply.
    Wordlessly, but completely in tune with the gentleness of the evening, they strolled on past the Roman Baths and the Pump Room and on up Milsom Street. Elizabeth reveled in the beauty of the architecture and the abundant hanging baskets and window boxes filled to overflowing with purple and gold flowers. Equally, she delighted in viewing the shops with charming bow windows displaying books, sweets, gloves, and art prints just as they did when Anne Elliot had shopped there with friends. Perhaps Anne had been in one of these very shops when Captain Wentworth entered on that rainy afternoon.
    Elizabeth smiled softly, her mind filled with images of Anne and Captain Wentworth’s encounter when she noticed a young man coming toward them carrying a parcel. “Arthur,” she called and waved.
    Apparently their friend’s mind was firmly on something else because he didn’t seem to hear her or to recognize them. Before she could call out again, he turned sharply down a narrow passage between two buildings and was lost to sight.
    “How odd,” she said. “That was Arthur, wasn’t it?” She wouldn’t have called out if she hadn’t been certain, but the evening shadows could be playing tricks.
    “Looked like him,” Richard agreed. “But perhaps longer hair. Could have been taller, too. Hard to tell.”
    Elizabeth gave a little shiver and Richard put his arm around her. “Are you getting cold? Shall we go back to the hotel?” He drew a small map from his pocket and consulted it. “Yes, George Street