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Jane of Austin
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Praise for
Jane of Austin
“Packed with charm, wit, and a thoroughly satisfying romance, Jane of Austin made me want to pick up and move myself down to Texas. Dear reader, put the kettle on, mix up some scones, and be the heroine of your book club by bringing Jane to this month’s meeting.”
—KIMBERLY STUART, author of the Heidi Elliott series and Sugar: A Novel
“Jane of Austin offers readers a fresh and contemporary take on a beloved classic. What a delight to enjoy Austen in this new modern way and find the characters and story as approachable, relevant, and engaging as the classic that has captured our hearts and sensibility for more than two hundred years. Heroine Jane’s quirky brightness brings this rich tale of love, life, music, and tea to life—and leaves you yearning for more!”
—KATHERINE REAY, author of Dear Mr. Knightley and A Portrait of Emily Price
“Quirky and charming, Jane of Austin goes down like a perfect cuppa. I was enchanted!”
—TERI WILSON, author of Unleashing Mr. Darcy, now a Hallmark Channel original movie
“I love a story that I can savor, and this delicious charmer has it all—a swoon-worthy hero, unrequited love, quirky and loveable secondary characters, and a heroine you want to root for! (Not to mention many delicious recipes!) When tea-shop owner Jane and her sisters move to Austin looking for a new future, she has no idea that love is waiting for her too. The only problem is, she’ll have to get her heart broken to find it. Beautifully written, a keeper of a story, and the perfect beach read!”
—SUSAN MAY WARREN, USA Today best-selling, RITA Award–winning author of the Montana Rescue series
“Tea and Texas make for a delicious reading recipe in Hillary Manton Lodge’s Jane of Austin! Hillary’s writing is seamless and sophisticated. I was charmed by everything I learned through this story about tea and tea making. And I was invested in the lives and loves of Jane and her sisters. I thoroughly enjoyed this tale of new beginnings, sisterhood, and healing.”
—BECKY WADE, author of True to You
“Hillary Manton Lodge’s modern twist on Sense and Sensibility will delight Jane Austen fans and contemporary romance fans alike. Jane of Austin is filled with warmth, wit, charm, and the kinds of unforgettable characters that will have you cheering some on and ready to wring the necks of others. I’m telling my friends to make it one of their summer must-reads!”
—KARA ISAAC, RITA Award–nominated author of Close To You
BOOKS BY HILLARY MANTON LODGE
A Table by the Window
Reservations for Two
Together at the Table
JANE OF AUSTIN
The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.
Trade Paperback ISBN 9781601429346
Ebook ISBN 9781601429353
Copyright © 2017 by Hillary Manton Lodge
Cover design by Kelly L. Howard
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published in the United States by WaterBrook, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.
WATERBROOK® and its deer colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Lodge, Hillary Manton, author.
Title: Jane of Austin : a novel of sweet tea and sensibility / Hillary Manton Lodge.
Description: First edition. | Colorado Springs, Colorado : WaterBrook, 2017.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017005491 (print) | LCCN 2017012219 (ebook) | ISBN 9781601429353 (electronic) | ISBN 9781601429346 (softcover) | ISBN 9781601429353 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Man-woman relationships—Fiction. | Life change events—Fiction. | Sisters—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary. | FICTION / Family Life. | GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3612.O335 (ebook) | LCC PS3612.O335 J36 2017 (print) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017005491
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Contents
Cover
Books by Hillary Manton Lodge
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Reading Group Guide
Acknowledgments
In loving memory of Helen Law Rounds, my grandmother and a great reader who loved Jane Austen best.
1916–2016
Prologue
But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.
—JANE AUSTEN
San Francisco, CA
2009
“Well, girls,” our father began, “it’s been a good run. And I’m not saying it won’t be again, but we’re going to have to…economize.”
“Economize?” I repeated, exchanging glances with my sister Celia, seated next to me, and our kid sister, Margot.
At least, I would have exchanged glances with Margot, but she was toying with the edge of her Powerpuff Girls Band-Aid.
The three of us sat together in a row on the sofa that had belonged to our grandmother. Everything in the old house seemed to have come from one family member or another.
Three years ago, Celia and I had sat on this same sofa when we were told about the car accident that ended our mother’s life. It was tragic and ironic all at once. Tragic because we’d lost our mother and because five-year-old Margot was in the hospital with scrapes and a cracked rib.
Ironic because our father had just been hired on as the CEO of a car company.
Since then, the house and its contents had felt more important. Dad had worked, as he usually did, but even though I was in college and Celia had just graduated, we remained at the grand old house on Pacific Avenue. Near to Margot; near to memories.
Dad’s work responsibility had only increased over the last few years, what with being the CEO of Edison Motors, and while he and Celia had the finance and business world in common, they rarely discussed it. Neither did he and I discuss botany (my passion) or the finer points of Nickelodeon programming (Margot’s current passion, which we hoped might develop into a love of film down the road). As it was, the three of us seldom saw him when his family man image wasn’t in need of some spit and polish.
“Did something happen?” Celia asked. “At Edison?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he hedged.
Celia and I both waited, silent. Margot folded her legs until she could rest
her chin on her knees.
“I’ve been ousted by the board,” he finally said, his words coming out in an awkward rush. “The recall and all that, well, they’re shortsighted. Shortsighted and malicious, if you ask me.”
My back straightened in alarm. “Malicious?”
“They set the SEC after me,” he continued, his face drawn but resolute. “There were some accounting issues, and while that’s not my responsibility, I’m the fall guy in their little corporate drama.” He paused, wincing. “Things are going to be a little rough for a while, but it’ll shake out. In the meantime, we’re going to decamp.”
“Decamp?” Celia asked, frowning, but it was the other word he’d used that gave me pause.
I leaned forward. “We? How do you mean?”
In most ways that mattered, our nuclear family had ended in the car accident. Dad worked, and Celia, Margot, and I looked out for each other. There hadn’t been a we that included our father in our family for a very long time.
“Yes. My assets have been frozen, pending investigation.”
“Frozen?” Celia squeaked out.
He nodded. “Frozen. And there are debts. At any rate, the house will be on the market shortly.”
I jumped to my feet. “The house? You can’t sell mom’s house!”
Celia rose and tried to place a soothing hand on my arm, but I shook her off. “This house has been in the family for generations.”
Margot scowled. “It’s my house too.”
Dad lifted his chin. “It’s also worth a great deal of money, young lady. And it was our house, your mother’s and mine.”
“No!” I tried to fill my lungs with air. “You can’t sell it!”
My voice sounded strange to my own ears, sluggish and overloud. My face flushed in panic and embarrassment.
“There’s no discussion,” my father said, the calm in his voice only increasing the shame and anxiety knotted in my chest. “I’m leaving for the Caymans until the whole thing blows over.”
I narrowed my eyes. “But—aren’t your assets frozen?”
“The ones the SEC knows about,” he amended, waving a hand casually. “You know how it is.”
I didn’t, actually. But then, I was just a college student, not a CEO.
“What about me?” Margot demanded.
“You’ll come along,” he reassured her. “It’s sunny. You’ll like it. There are…boats. You like boats, don’t you?”
Margot’s lip curled with disgust. “I get seasick.”
“Is that even legal?” Celia asked. “Leaving the country?”
“It’s what my lawyer advised,” he answered, his chin lifting higher.
Celia and I exchanged dubious glances.
“And as I said, the three of you can come with me,” he said. “I’ll be able to access my offshore accounts.”
“But…we’re in school,” I said, working hard to keep my emotions in check. “Margot and I, anyway, and Celia just started her new job.” My brows knit together. “Next week is midterms.”
Celia nodded.
“We can’t just pick up and go to the Caymans,” I said. Even the words felt strange in my mouth.
“I hate school,” Margot said, sitting up. “I’ll go.”
Celia shook her head. “You have to stay in school. And you’d miss your friends, wouldn’t you? Isabelle and Kaitlyn?”
Margot conceded with a shrug.
“If you stay here,” Dad said, his voice stern, “I won’t be able to pay for your tuition. I won’t be able to pay for your dance classes, either,” he said, looking at Margot. “The money you have is the money you’ll have, until the rest of you turn twenty-one and can access your trust funds, the way Celia has. Because those were set up by your mother and grandparents, the government can’t touch them.”
I swallowed, fighting to keep the panic down.
“Nothing has to be decided tonight,” Dad said. “Think about it. Take your time.”
Celia nodded.
“I’ll need your answer the day after tomorrow though,” he finished, “in order to secure plane tickets.”
I spared a glance at Celia, my mind churning. She said nothing, and we dispersed shortly after for bed.
The next morning, the San Francisco Chronicle’s front-page above-fold headline featured our father. I snuck the paper off the front steps and read it in the privacy of the upstairs library.
Most of it sounded like what our father had described, but other words jumped out as well. Fraud and embezzlement being the most notable.
He’d assured us everything had been a mistake, but…but had it?
Beneath the fold was a picture of Dad and Celia. Sure, her back was turned, but it still listed her by name. I wasn’t an expert in the field, but I didn’t think that was a good thing for Celia.
By the end of the day, my fears came true.
“They let me go,” she said, her face pale and shocked. More shocked, somehow, than after Dad’s news the previous day.
“There’s no way to fight it?” I asked, my voice low as we sat together on the unfashionable yet blissfully comfortable sofa stashed in our favorite attic nook.
She shook her head. “No. I mean, I could. But what if it didn’t work out? You saw the paper. I’m”—she sniffed—“unemployable. In finance, trust is everything.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and held tight. “I’m so sorry.”
“I had to take my stuff out and everything.”
“Did they give you severance?”
She nodded. “If I agreed to go quietly.”
And she would. Anyone who knew Celia would know that.
She sniffed and laughed. “The only bright side is that I think I have a date.”
“What?”
“It’s a coworker. He was hired on the same time as me. Teddy Foster. He helped me put my stuff together, gave me his briefcase so that I didn’t have to do a walk of shame with a cardboard box. Walked out with me so it just looked like we were leaving for a meeting.”
“And then he asked you out?”
She laughed again, disbelieving. “I think so. He asked for my phone number.”
“Did he text?”
A nod.
I laughed and shook my head in disbelief. “Look at you. Getting fired and getting a date, all in the same day.”
“You can laugh, but it won’t be funny for long. Not—not with everything else. I needed that job. Nobody else is going to hire me.”
“I know,” I said. “I have a plan. Well, it’s the beginnings of a plan.” I held out my hand, preparing to count off with my fingers. “First, I quit school.”
“Jane, no!”
“Yes. My trust fund won’t kick in for another two years, and yours won’t cover my tuition and Margot’s—and rent. So I’m going to quit school, and we’re going to start a business.”
“A business? Jane, be serious.”
“I am being serious! You’ll work your magic and open a shell corporation, and we’ll use it to get a lease. Nobody will know it’s the infamous Woodward sisters. We’ll get a lease, open a shop, and…I don’t know, sell soap.”
Celia goggled at me. “Shell corporation? Soap?”
“I have learned a few things listening to you and Dad over the years. But it doesn’t have to be soap. We could sell, I don’t know…antiques. You love antiques.”
“I know nothing about antiques.”
I racked my brain for ideas. “Tea. A tea shop. I learned all about tea when I was studying abroad.”
“I know,” she said dryly. “It’s all you’ve been talking about. And why I want you in school—you and botany.”
“I’ll finish school later. This is an emergency.”
Celia sighed. “What’s sad is that I know you’re not being hyperbolic.” She pulled her chunky cardigan closer. “A tea shop?”
“A tea shop. Something quaint, tourist-friendly.”
“You hate tourists.”
“Desperate
times.” I met her gaze. “Dad taking Margot to the Caymans is a terrible idea.”
Celia winced. “I know. But I want what’s best for her, and…”
“It’s not her fleeing the country with Dad,” I said firmly. “She needs us. We need her.”
Celia hugged her arms to herself. “A tea shop?”
I nodded, my mind full of tea leaves and steaming water. “A tea shop.”
“Small business ownership is hard. Most small businesses go under in the first year.”
“But it’s us! You and me. Your brains, my winning personality—”
Celia said nothing, but her raised eyebrow filled the silence.
“Okay, fine,” I conceded. “Your brains, your winning personality, and my expertise in the kitchen.”
She gave a rueful laugh. “That sounds more plausible. I just—I don’t know.”
“Do you have any other ideas? We can’t let Margot go. We…we almost lost her once.”
My eyes began to fill with tears; Celia reached to hold my hand tight.
“You’re right,” she said, her voice steadier. “If she wants to stay, we’ll find a way to make it work.”
1
You can never get a cup of tea large enough or a book long enough to suit me.
—C. S. LEWIS
December 2016
San Francisco, CA
“So you see,” Jonathan explained, “what you’ve been paying as a lease for your little tea shop—it’s well beneath market value.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said, though until now I hadn’t known quite how far below. I hadn’t had to. But I didn’t let on; I didn’t like the condescending tone of our landlord’s nephew’s voice.