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Lion Hudson - Julia Golding

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118 pages

English

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'Julia Goldings Jane Austen Investigates offers a gripping detective story with an abundance of Easter eggs for Austen fans... This is a delightful riff on the wit and irony of Austens works; of her wonderful juvenilia, especially.' David Taylor, Associate Professor, Faculty of English, University of OxfordJane Austen turns detective in this spooky historical adventure by award-winning author Julia Golding!Its 1789 and a young Jane Austen turns detective as she seeks to solve the mysterious happenings at Southmoor Abbey. When a carriage accident forces a change of plans, 13-year-old Jane is sent to be a companion to Lady Cromwell for a week as the household prepares to celebrate the eldest sons coming-of-age party. While there, Jane vows to solve the mystery of the ghostly monk in the Abbey grounds for she does not believe in such stories!But this is not the only strange occurrence for the adventurous young Jane to investigate. There are shivery night-time investigations, an Indian girl with secret talents, a library fire, two prize horses in danger, and friends to save from false accusations.With notebook in hand and her faithful dog Grandison by her side, will Jane overcome the continuous obstacles and find out the truth?

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Children's

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Publié par	Lion Hudson
Date de parution	23 avril 2021
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781782643357
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0450€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Clever, playful, and gripping. A real treat for bookworms.
Lucy Strange, award-winning author of The Secret of Nightingale Wood, Our Castle by the Sea , and The Ghost of Gosswater
Julia Golding s Jane Austen Investigates offers a gripping detective story with an abundance of Easter eggs for Austen fans. Golding gives us a feisty young Jane, who, unfazed by the snobbery she faces, stands up not only for herself but for those on the margins of her late 18th-century world. This is a delightful riff on the wit and irony of Austen s works; of her wonderful juvenilia, especially.
David Taylor, Associate Professor, Faculty of English, University of Oxford

Text copyright 2021 Julia Golding
This edition copyright 2021 Lion Hudson IP Limited
The right of Julia Golding to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Jane Austen and her family were real people, though they appear in this book as imagined characters.
Published by
Lion Hudson Limited
Wilkinson House, Jordan Hill Business Park,
Banbury Road, Oxford OX2 8DR, England
www.lionhudson.com
ISBN 978 1 78264 334 0
eISBN 978 1 78264 335 7
First edition 2021
Cover image Lion Hudson, cover design by Laura Tolton
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Contents
Editor s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Editor s Note
Notebooks containing details of Jane Austen s first investigations were recently found hidden in a trunk stored in the attics of Jane s family home. There are signs that Jane expected her papers to be discovered, for they begin with a warning from young Jane herself.
Warning
Any resemblance to persons living or dead in these case notes is entirely intentional. Names of people and places have been changed to protect the wicked - but you know who you are!
J.A.
Chapter 1
1789
I t had to be acknowledged that the life of a clergyman s daughter in deepest rural Hampshire was disappointingly full of duties. There were few things for an adventurous girl to do. That was why Jane always considered it fortunate to be in the carriage accident. Without that disaster, she would never have met the Abbey ghost.
Jane had not begun the day intending to be thrown from a coach - nor to go ghost-hunting. She had been striding along the Steventon Road behind her older sister, boots making a satisfying stomp on the ground. Cassandra swung her basket, knocking off the tops from the cow parsley. After calling on an elderly lady with a hacking cough FOR TWO HOURS, both Cassandra and Jane had to misbehave. There was nothing more annoying than a persistent cough - especially in someone else.
If only something exciting would happen! If it didn t come soon, Jane felt she might EXPLODE with frustration. Maybe she should disguise herself as a sailor and go on a voyage like those of Captain Cook - without his grisly end?
Listening to Old Mrs Taylor is like being in the path of stampeding cattle, said Cassandra.
Jane plucked a fat blade of grass, held it between her thumbs, and hooted rudely.
Imagine being that old! Fifty-six! continued Cassandra.
Jane didn t feel she need add anything. Her older sister was well able to chatter away for both of them. Words were Jane s greatest treasure and she spent hers carefully.
Did you hear what her son called us? asked Cassandra.
Interfering halfwits, Jane replied. She thought for a moment. Interfering I accept, but I ve a whole wit at least.
Cassandra walked backward a few steps. What about me, Jane? Your older, more beautiful, more talented - and far more modest sister?
Jane wrinkled her nose. I ll allow you a whole wit, but sadly it s a dim one.
Cassandra chuckled. I m the dimwit? She loved it when Jane insulted her - their family was unique in that way, liking nothing better than a joke at their own expense.
The rhythmic thud of hooves alerted the sisters to the approach of a carriage. The lane was narrow and windy, so they climbed the bank. A four-wheeler appeared around the bend, paintwork in green and yellow, brass lamps gleaming. All told, a flash vehicle for a fashionable gentleman.
Jane s heart sank.
As soon as Cassandra saw who was driving, her cheeks went pink and she rearranged the basket carefully on her arm so that no hint of her as Batterer of Blooms remained.
It s George Watson! whispered Cassandra.
I know, said Jane. She had suffered all summer from her sister s adoration for the local squire s son. Her sister had rarely liked a stupider fellow.
George heaved on the horses reins in a move that must have hurt their poor mouths and drew the carriage to a juddering stop. He gave a flourish of his hat. Ladies! He then giggled.
George Watson was officially HOPELESS.
Mr Watson, said Cassandra in a breathy tone unlike her usual. At sixteen, she was in that delicate area between girl and lady. George had won her heart by treating her as grown-up.
Miss Austen, Miss Jane, would you care for a ride in my new phaeton? I ve taken delivery only this morning.
Why, Mr Watson, that is so kind of you. I m sure my sister and I would be much obliged, said Cassandra, taking his offered hand and stepping up beside him.
WHAT was her foolish sister doing? George Watson had only been driving the phaeton since the morning. He should at least have to pass a test with an experienced coachman, but sadly even fools like George were allowed out on the roads with no proof they knew one end of a horse from the other.
Jane? pleaded Cassandra. They had both promised their mother they would not separate.
The things she did for her sister.
Against her better judgment, Jane scrambled up beside Cassandra. Being only thirteen, she was not considered old enough to need a hand. Acquainted with Jane from her infancy, George probably still thought she rolled down the grassy slope behind the rectory.
Which she did - when no one was watching.
Tally ho! George called to his matched pair of horses and flicked the whip. Jane silently calculated how much the carriage would ve cost him and came up with a sum that was more than her father earned in a year.
Surprisingly, the ride started well. George kept the horses to a steady pace and avoided the worst of the ruts. Jane began to enjoy herself. Sitting this high, she could see over the hedge to the wheat fields with their knee-high crop. Poppies wound among the stems as butterflies danced above. Maybe George had changed?
But then George had to prove he hadn t changed one little bit. They reached the final approach to the rectory, a stretch of road shaded by elms.
What say you to making a dashing entrance? he asked Cassandra.
Oh no, said Jane. NO! she repeated.
Mr Watson, that would be delightful, agreed Cassandra, elbowing Jane.
With a bark of laughter, George flicked the whip and the phaeton surged forward.
Cassie! hissed Jane, clutching Cassandra s arm. Don t you know your Greek myths?
Cassandra tore her attention from George for a second. What are you talking about, Jane?
We re in a phaeton! Remember Phaeton: the hero who drove the sun s chariot to disaster?
Oh, fiddlesticks.
But even as Cassandra spoke, George gave another crack of the whip. The horses threw caution to the winds and careered around the corner - only to find a drover with his cows blocking the road. The girls screamed, the cows mooed, and George panicked. The carriage veered off the road. The front wheel hit a stone with a jolt that catapulted the passengers from the high seat.
Jane knew briefly, wondrously, what it was like to fly - then landed in a ditch.
OW!
Chapter 2
Y oung ladies do not get thrown from phaetons! declared Mrs Austen, bandaging Cassandra s arm with angry turns of the material.
I think you ll find that they do, said Jane, pointing to herself and Cassandra. We just did. Jane s elbow was skinned and her hip bruised but otherwise she was mostly unscathed. The worst impact had been taken by her second-best gown. It was Cassandra who had broken her arm with a snap like a dry twig - though perhaps Jane had only imagined that.
That s quite enough from you, young lady. Jane was Mrs Austen s least favourite child, as Jane well knew. Your wit will make you infamous one day.
Jane was hoping for famous but infamy sounded exciting.
And when I said young ladies don t have carriage accidents, I meant that we must never, ever speak of this again. Do not put it in your letters, or your journals. Mrs Austen pursed her lips, a little frown line appearing at the bridge of her Roman nose. I ll tell your father, of course, when he gets back, but as far as everyone else is concerned, Cassandra has a slight head cold.
Mama, I have a broken arm! protested Cassandra.
No, you do not. You will stay out of sight for the next six weeks while it mends
Colds do not last six weeks!
Perhaps we can call it a fever? Yes, that is even better as no one will risk seeing you. She fitted a sling so that Cassandra s left arm was immobilized against her chest. Because if they see you, they will ask how you broke your arm, and then I will have