The Missing Manuscript of Jane Austen Read Online Free PDF Page B

here and now, and plead my case. He was here. He was being so civil and charming. How could I refuse?
    A few minutes later, we were seated in the restaurant at a window table with a view of the river, and dinner and wine on the way.
    “Samantha: you said you’re from America. What part?”
    “Los Angeles. Where do you live?”
    “London. I hadn’t been here for years until two weeks ago, when I arranged my father’s funeral. I’m back again just for the weekend, to clean up the place a little before the sale. And as you saw, gardening isn’t my strong suit.”
    “I’m no gardening expert, either,” I admitted, “which is why I’ve had a lot of experience pulling weeds.”
    He laughed and relaxed in his chair. Our salads and wine arrived.
    “I read that Greenbriar’s been in your family for over two centuries,” I said, in between bites.
    “Lawrence Whitaker built the house in 1785. I’m his direct descendant, the last of the line, it seems.”
    “It’s a shame you have to sell it.”
    “I agree. It used to be a much larger property. The surrounding acreage has been sold off bit by bit over the years to pay for its upkeep. My father didn’t have the money to take care of it properly, and neither do I—the taxes alone will kill me.”
    “That’s a difficult position to be in.”
    “It is.” He sipped his wine. “So. Let’s talk about why you’re here. This afternoon, I believe you said you’re a history buff?”
    “Yes.” I hesitated. “I guess I should start by explaining that I studied at Oxford four years ago, in the doctoral program of English Literature—”
    “Oh? So it’s
Dr.
Samantha McDonough?”
    My cheeks warmed. “No. I have a master’s degree in English Lit, and I got about halfway through with my dissertation, but…family circumstances intervened, and I couldn’t finish it.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “So am I. But—anyway, I’m now a Special Collections Librarian at a private university. And entirely by chance, I came across something the other day that seems to link Jane Austen with Greenbriar. It’s actually very exciting.”
    “Well, I apologize for cutting you off earlier with an attitude of appalling skepticism. I promise you have my full attention now.”
    I smiled and looked around the room, wanting to keep my revelation away from other ears. Fortunately, the restaurant was still half-empty, and none of the other patrons were paying any attention to us. I leaned forward, and keeping my voice low, I told Anthony all about the old book I’d found, the untrimmed pages, and what I’d discovered inside. He listened with growing interest.
    From my purse, I withdrew the photocopies of Jane Austen’s letter and handed them to him. He glanced over the pages, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Has this been authenticated?”
    “Not yet—I intend to do that, of course—but I have a great deal of experience with documents of this kind, and I’ve studied Jane Austen for years. I researched this last night, and everything checks out. I’m positive this letter is hers.”
    “What a great discovery!” He seemed impressed.
    “It is. This letter can possibly shed new light on Austen’slife as well as her work. But wait until you read what it
says—
it’s truly fantastic. The second half is the part relevant to you.”
    He read the letter. When he got to the last section, his blue eyes widened. Then he began asking questions. Weren’t there other places called Greenbriar in Devonshire? What made me so sure it was
his
house? Finally, he said, “If the visit happened, why isn’t it in the history books?”
    “There are huge gaps in our knowledge as to Jane Austen’s whereabouts during her lifetime—particularly during the period in question. But we have reason to believe that she and her parents and her sister
did
spend the summers of 1801 and 1802 in Devonshire. Which makes it entirely possible that they came to Greenbriar. Based on that letter, it seems likely