Sunday 31st August 1808

Dear Diary,
A melancholy day.
I feigned fatigue to extricate myself from attending Chapel and have remained much of the day confined to my room. Ned brought up a lunch of cold chicken and found me listless upon my bed.
"Cheer up," he said "It could be worse. I have heard that Gustav fella is causing trouble elsewhere. At least you are no longer in his sights."
"I do not know what is wrong with me, " I whined, "I feel so deflated. I cannot put my finger on it."
"Well, try, " he said, "If ever I feel down I find putting my fingers on it always cheers me up."

Saturday 30th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I was able to finally leave Far Corfe after spending some anxious minutes buried in Mrs Norris's bosom. I limped to the carriage as Willow had accidentally dropped my baggage upon my foot and this, after spilling tea upon me at breakfast. Where he once spoke of my obvious charm, he now regards me with disdain.
I left a joyous Mrs Norris to plan a magnificent engagement party and returned to Thrushcock Grange to inform my family of the impending nuptials.
The happy smile upon my face dwindled the nearer I got to home so that by the time I rolled up at the front door I was filled with apprehension. The Wayne Austen of Far Corfe Hall was very different to the Wayne Austen that dwells at Thrushcock Grange.
My family were delighted at the news and even Jane's smile seemed genuine.
"When are we going to be able to congratulate your fiancee ourselves?" Asked Mother.
"Danielle has some other engagements abroad first but she hopes to be able to visit us shortly." I replied.
I wandered in the garden later to escape the excited chatter indoors and found Ned trimming Miss Noring's box.
"Congratulations, Mr Austen," he said, "There's never a dull moment here at Thrushcock."
"Ned," I said earnestly, "I have no one else I can share this with but I have to tell someone.... I am having misgivings."
"Crikey!" he said, "You are a dark horse! You're only just engaged and you're off with another woman!"

Friday 29th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Revelations!
Danielle and I were out punting, this morning, upon one of the more languid sections of the Hoar when we noticed Willow upon the bank, gesticulating.
"I know of a weeping willow but observe, my dear, that waving Willow upon the bank yonder," I quiped.
I manouvered our flimsy craft towards the shore to see what was afoot.
"Mrs Norris requires you in the drawing room at once, Mr Austen," said Willow.
"Can you handle a pole, Willow?" I asked, handing him mine.
"I have indeed handled a few in my time,Sir but to handle yours would be a delight I could not resist," he smiled.
I left them and hurried into the hall.
"Wayne," said Mrs Norris as I entered the drawing room, "Come sit beside me. I have shocking news." She seemed quite flustered and agitated.
"Is it Winky?" I asked with mock concern, hoping for the good news of his demise.
"Oh no," she smiled, " he is much better. No, it concerns Miss St Amour. Prepare yourself for some shocking news, I am still quite ill from hearing it myself."
She leaned closer to me and I tried not to look down.
"Miss St Amour is....... is all alone in the world, " she gasped. "Her family perished in a fire at their home when she was but nineteen; Father, Mother and brother, only she survived the conflagration. Oh the poor, poor dear! Is that not dreadful news? Does that not make your heart weep for her? Oh, Wayne, she deserves some happiness. She deserves some family. Winky adores her and she him. She plays with him as if he were her own Winky. You could make her happy Wayne. You have my blessing and I know you have the blessing of your parents. She leaves this very evening there is no time left for hesitation. You must go to her and ask for her hand, I simply must insist."
"Mrs Norris," I replied, "I cannot deny that Miss Amour is delightful company and I am very fond of her, but..."
"I shall hear no 'buts'!" She stood. "I cannot force you Wayne but you would be a....... a........nincompoop, to miss this opportunity. Good day!" And she swept out.
I confess I pondered her words and searched my heart for the rest of the day until the time of her departure but still had not made up my mind as to what I should do. Mrs Norris fussed over her for many minutes and clasped her to her bosom many times, all the while glowering at me. Finally, I stepped up.
"Danielle, it has been a pleasure," and I offered her my hand. She did not take it but stepped forward and kissed me upon my lips for a few lingering moments, then turned and mounted the coach.
It slowly began to move off down the drive and was beginning to pick up pace when I heard someone shout "WAIT!"
It was me.
It drew to a halt and I ran up to it and Danielle opened the door and looked out in concern.
"Miss St Amour, " I breathed, "Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"
She gasped and clutched the pearls about her neck, and looked quite bewildered but then a smile lit up her face and she nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek.
I turned towards the hall and all who were gathered for her departure and cried;
"She has accepted!"
Mrs Norris dissolved into happy sobs.
Willow was crying too.

Thursday 28th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Today Miss St Amour and I rode in Mrs Norris's phaeton to Pimpton. Mrs Norris stayed at Far Corfe Hall to attend her precious Winky who she fears has developed the sniffles.
How elegant Danielle looked with her parasol and how symmetrical her appearance, once again. Pimpton was adequate but I daresay Netherton has much more character and distinction. We ambled in the park and glanced through the window of a small number of boutiques and were just resolved to journey back when a voice cried out;
"Mr Austen! Oh pleasant and happy chance! Fancy seeing you here." It was the Misses Dixon and Forster, with Mrs Marrs and the identical twins, Matthew and Abigail. "We are just come for some distraction and are on our way to sate our appetites. Oh, do say you will join us."
How could we refuse?
Miss Dixon knew of a place renowned for it's pies and seemed well acquainted with the proprietor, Selena Todd. The service was prompt and generous and the repast, delicious. The ladies were keen to question Miss St Amour on her tastes and fancies after the meal while Miss Dixon eyed her keenly. Presently she said;
"Have we met before Miss St Amour? Your face seems very familiar."
"I don't believe we have," smiled Danielle, appearing suddenly uncomfortable.
"Do you have a brother?" asked Miss Dixon.
"I did, but he is dead," said Danielle, and then, with little hesitation said "Mr Austen, look at the time, Mrs Norris shall be expecting us."
We thanked the ladies for their happy company and journeyed back to Far Corfe.
"I am sorry to hear about your brother," I offered as we neared the Hall.
"I thank you for your sympathy but it pains me to talk of it," she said and I dared not press her further.
"Dinner is at eight, Sir" said Woofter as I handed him my gloves and coat.
How blue his eyes were, I noticed.
"What is your Christian name?" I asked.
"Willow," his reply.

Wednesday 27th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Breakfast is far more formal here at Far Corfe Hall than at Thrushcock Grange. One hardly dare bite into a toasted teacake for fear of the 'crunch' let alone speak. Yet Mrs Norris does allow her Winky to eat at the table beside her, which I find quite disturbing, as his table manners leave something to be desired. Miss St Amour excused herself and left us both alone, Mrs Norris and I that is, not Winky and I.
"Wayne," she whispered conspiratorially and leaned over towards me. I found myself staring into the chasm at her chest and steadied myself upon my chair for fear of toppling in.
"What do you know of the Hoar?"
"Pardon?" I blinked.
"Our neighbour, the river. It is born high up upon Strokesack Mountain, I believe and converges with the Pimp before flowing out to the sea. I think we shall take a stroll along it's bank this morning. But tell me, how are your feelings for Miss St Amour progressing? I trust you are not insensitive to her charms."
I opened my mouth to reply but she went on.
"She is undoubtedly of good character and as far as I can tell, not without wealth and consequence. I am aware that there is an increasing tendency for people these days to marry for love but regardez moi. Mr Norris did not and I am comfortable in my surroundings. Wayne, there is no shame in wealth. I shall enquire of my well placed acquaintances and see what can be unearthed of her heritage and standing."
The walk by the river was pleasant enough, though the pace was sedate, and the conversation stilted. We were on our way back to the Hall when suddenly a peacock cried out and startled Winky causing him to tumble down the bank into the river. Mrs Norris shrieked even louder than the peacock,
"Oh, save him! Save my Winky!"
Of course I would have leapt in but my heart was still in palpitation at the two sudden noisy outbursts. It was Miss St Amour who came to the beasts rescue as she leapt in and whisked him up in her arms, her skirts billowing up about her waist in the thigh high water. She handed the dripping creature up to me and clamboured out. Mrs Norris was overjoyed and shouting her heartfelt thanks, rushed in to dry her pet.
"And now you are a heroine, " I smiled... but my gaze was drawn down to an incongruence at her chest. Her bosoms were not even, as one had appeared to have dropped. She noticed my gaze and clutching her hands to her chest said,
"If you would excuse me, I must change," and she departed in some haste.

Tuesday 26th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I am finding a great deal more pleasure than I expected in my time here at Far Corfe and it is certainly due to the delightful company of Miss St Amour. We appear to have a great deal in common and our conversations flow with ease and wit. It is obvious that my parents are engaged in match making and for the first time I am strangely conducive to it. I cannot pretend not to be somewhat confused by my feelings, as Miss St Amour is certainly not what I have so often dreamed of attaining and yet I find her so captivating and bewitching and I confess my affection and appreciation of her obvious qualities increases with each passing moment together.
Mrs Norris observes from a distance but it is difficult to remain concealed when one's bosom is as outstanding as hers. Miss St Amour is far less free with her bosom and indeed, keeps it well concealed at all times and I respect that in a lady.
We wandered the grounds and gardens of the hall, when the ever inclement weather allowed. She had been in Amsterdam when she was invited to Far Corfe and had been delayed at the coast for a few days by the tempestuous seas. She had not been told of the reason for her visit and was delighted to see me when she entered the drawing room yesterday.
"I never know what to expect," she said, "but I was relieved to see a face I knew."
"Do you often accept invitations to the homes of people with whom you are not acquainted?" I asked, teasingly.
Her smile faded and she flushed a little.
"You did," she replied, with a little accusation in her voice, "when you attended Herr Kuntz's Ball." She raised a hand to some wayward lock upon her forehead and tidied it away, turning her face from me. When she turned back her smile had returned.
"Do you appreciate a neatly trimmed bush, Mr Austen?" She enquired, gesturing towards the topiary.
Before I could reply we were interrupted by a slight cough and turning saw Woofter lurking amongst the bushes.
He stepped forward apologetically and said Mrs Norris was ready to show Miss St Amour her embroidered muff. I nodded resignedly and she took her leave of us.
"Such a charming lady," I remarked as we watched her stride elegantly across the lawn on those long legs.
"She indeed, has a charm about her, Sir," replied Woofter, "but if I may be so bold as to say, I believe you possess more."
I looked at him fully for the first time but he dropped his gaze in a slight bow and turned to leave.
"Woofter," I said, " such an unusual name."
He turned back to face me and held my gaze.
"It is, I suppose, but then I am not usual, Sir,' he said.

Monday 25th August 1808

Dear Diary,

Far Corfe Hall lies in grounds, extending, some fifty acres upon the banks of the river Hoar. All are well tended with pleasant topiary and raucous peacocks. I arrived in the early afternoon and as soon as I dismounted from the carriage found myself clasped to Mrs Norris's generous bosom for a moment longer than necessary.

"Come, come," she ordered, "let us take tea. Woofter will tend to your bags."

"How exciting all this is, " she said, as we were seated in the drawing room. " I trust you will spend your days in comfort here and should you require anything, my dearest Wayne, please ask Woofter for if it can be done or found, he can do it or find it. I feel I must give something of an apology for the delay to our conference but alas, no one has the power to control the weather and I doubt I could have faced being tossed so and so there it is. Your parents have your best interests at heart and have noted your interest in this particular...um....venture and so have provided you with more time to acquaint yourself and I shall endeavour to glean some background and assess the suitability of such a........."

"Mrs Norris, " I interjected, " what is going on? I fear I am in the dark and have been told nothing of why I am here."

She paused with teacup to her lips and smiled, then replacing teacup to saucer returned it to the table and clapped her hands.

"Then let us, bring in the light," she said, and the drawing room door swung open to reveal.....no one. Mrs Norris glanced at me nervously and then said "Please come in, Dear. You have nothing to fear." I heard hesitant footsteps in the hallway and then, there in the doorway looking lovely and somewhat lost, was Danielle St Amour.

Our eyes met and her face lit up. I stood up to greet her.

"I shall leave you two to get better acquainted, for that is indeed why you are both here and I shall retire to attend my Winky. He is not himself and I fear he may have caught a chill." Mrs Norris bustled out and Miss St Amour came and sat in her place.

"Mr Austen,' she breathed in her husky manner, ' It appears we have been manipulated."

"Indeed,' I replied, "but there are times when I find manipulation most pleasurable, Miss Amour."

Sunday 24th August 1808

Dear 'Diawy',
With the 'wole of women in Weligion', 'weadings fwom Wuth' and having to sing "Wejoice in Cwist the Wedeemer' I am so 'weady' to 'suwwender' myself to Mrs 'Nowwis'.
I am to Far Corfe 'tomowwow', all is 'appawently weady'.
I hope I can 'bweak' this 'widiculous' habit by then for I can see Mrs 'Nowwis' getting 'weally iwate' with me.

Saturday 23rd August 1808

Dear Diary,
Father returned from Manchesterford as we sat down for lunch. He sat down with us and winced noticably.
"A long, hard ride, Dear?' asked Mother.
"Indeed," he nodded.
I could tell he was surprised to see me still at the Grange but Mother whispered in his ear and he nodded again and smiled knowingly.
The evening brought 'Wussel Spwout', marching up the lane. As I saw him approaching, I rose from my chair and attempted to escape to my chamber and got as far as the parlour door before Mother said;
"And where do you think you are going?"
"I have .....er.....urgent business elsewhere," I spluttered.
"Sit!" She ordered, "and assist me in entertaining our new Parson."
"May I be excused?" Asked Fanny, clutching her pussy.
"Of course, Dear," smiled Mother, "but inform Mrs Crutchlow we shall be needing some tea shortly." She left with a huge grin and blew me a kiss before closing the door.
I was hardly needed for the ensuing intercourse for the 'Wevewand Spwout' hardly paused for 'bweath'. I feel I know his 'bwother fwom Bwadford' intimately for the Parson seemed keen to share his 'pwivate fwaternal pwoblems.'
It would have been the perfect opportunity to enquire about the use of his organ but I must have 'dwifted off' for suddenly he was holding out a hand and saying goodbye.
"I hope to see you at Chapel 'tomowwow'. I am to talk about the 'wole of wimmin in weligion'," he beamed.
"The role of rimming in Religion?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"Women, Wayne, Women!" snapped Mother.

Friday 22nd August 1808

Dear Diary,
I arrived home just before dawn and fell into my bed. I rose well after lunch and went down to see what I could find to assuage my hunger. Mrs Crutchlow made me a delicious ham sandwich and I took a seat in the scullery and enjoyed it. I told her of some of my experiences yesterday and then went out to take the air.
Ned was by his shed rubbing his butt.
"You were home late, Mr Austen," he smiled, "Did you have a good time?"
"Indeed," I replied, "It was most entertaining, yet I was very tired when I arrived home and I slept like a log."
"Slept like a log eh?' He chuckled. "I didn't but I woke up wi' one," he snorted.
"Have you ever worn a kilt Ned?" I asked.
"No, " he replied, "but I would have a go."
A vision of Ned in a kilt, shirtless and wielding his chopper flooded my mind and I leant upon the shed for some support.
"Well, I shall leave you to get on," I said gaining my composure. "What is it that you are doing exactly?"
"I got a nasty splinter from the edge of this yesterday so I'm just smoothing it down," he said. "You want a go?"
"No, thank you Ned," I sighed, "I don't have the energy for rimming today, but you carry on," and I went inside to lie down.

Thursday 21st August 1808

Never draw your dirk when a blow will do it. Anon.


Money is flat and was meant to be piled. Anon.


Him that keeks throu a keyhole micht see what will vex him. Anon.


Mony a mickle maks a muckle. Anon.


That's a fine caber you have there, my good man. Will you show me how you toss it? Wayne Austen..

Dear Diary,

The carriage was empty until Ecclefechan whereupon a kilted fellow entered and sat opposite me with legs akimbo and distracted me from much of the verdent scenary thereafter.
"Och, ye see that purple bit?" He asked and I was quite flustered for a moment, as I could see it very well, but then I realised he was referring to the heather upon the hillside and I tittered in relief and dabbed my brow with my handkerchief.
"Do you know bigger?" he asked and my heart leapt again. I was contemplating how to prevaricate when I noticed a sign for 'Biggar' and I realised once again I had leapt to the wrong conclusion.
"No," I offered succinctly which served to answer his own enquiry and the one I had misunderstood. He swung out at 'Biggar' and my breathing relaxed and I was able to enjoy the scenery of the Pentland Hills and the entry into Edinburgh.
Once again the streets were teeming with Thespians plying their wares but I resisted their temptations for I had affected an itinerary of mine own and moved with purpose through the throng.
My first diversion was an arty piece centered around the thoughts of those who model for portraits, indeed they were naked, but it was all for Art.
Isn't Art fabulous? I truly love Art.
Next, I found myself in an ornate room with an enormous organ, which I would very much have liked to get my hands upon but sadly it was not included in the admission. The drama that unfolded was, as expected, amusing but also, unexpectedly moving, about the life of the celebrated colonial matron, Jean Rivulets.
There was further amusement to come in the presence of the leather kilted raconteur, Craggy Hillocks. He was rather probing with members of his audience and being seated upon the second row I was close enough to reach out and touch his sporran but sat in dread that he should probe me. In private I daresay he could probe me all he desired but in company I fear I would have clammed up.
The evening came on apace and the heavens opened and I scurried onto a drama entitled 'The adventures of Buttboy and Tigger'. I forget why I had first been drawn to this piece but very much enjoyed it as it played out. It concerned the correspondence at a distance between two sensitive fellows and how they came to meet and I was quite moved by it.
I ended the day deep in the underbelly of the city, almost in a place akin to those haunted vaults I had experienced upon my last visit. The entertainment was entitled 'Spank!' and continued into the early hours. I enjoyed short sketches and amusement from a variety of fellows, and indeed from some Canadians, though one almost made my ears fall off with his virulent 'humour.'

Wednesday 20th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Oh how nice it is to be feted at every turn. The breakfast Mrs Crutchlow provided this morning, though usually more than adequate, was a veritable feast.
The house is bursting from the rafters with happiness. I even found Ned singing in the garden while he was removing a tree trunk from the ground. To be honest it sounded more like a wail and a moan but from his demeanour I recognised it to be a kind of singing.
"How gay everyone is today," I noted to him as I wandered past. He stopped tugging on his stump.
"I'm not," he quickly retorted, looking quite indignant, "I told you..."
"I know I have just enjoyed a breakfast fit for a King, but I yearn for a fruity nibble," I went on. "I fancy your plums, Ned."
What a pair I enjoyed. Both a good size and ripe for the taking. I sat feeling content beneath the tree, my chin running with their sweet juice.

Tuesday 19th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Such a day of changes....
Firstly news came, this morning, from Mrs Norris to say that all was not ready for my visit due to unavoidable circumstances and that it appeared that I would not be called to Far Corfe before the weekend. How intriguing! Mother did not seem too upset by the news but would not elaborate on what the delay could mean.
I have resolved to venture north again and am to Edinburgh on Thursday for further thespic festivities. I shall not force my Python to make the journey again and have made arrangements to travel by carriage. I did take him out for some exercise this afternoon, however and we fairly galloped into Cobbler's Bottom.
The village was fairly quiet and I asked the lovely Sam if I could tether my Python to his pole while I wandered for awhile. He nodded manfully and gave me a wink that sent a shiver right down to my coccyx. My mouth suddenly felt dry and so I walked to the inn for some refreshment. All eyes turned upon me as I entered and the chatter stopped but unbowed I called the host over and asked for some tea. Talk resumed and I eavesdropped eager to pick up some gossip. All seemed fairly dull; old Mr Bummer had had another accident. It seems he had gone to the lavatory in that very inn and had only been inside a few moments when he tumbled out with his breeches round his ankles. He had sat down and realised he had not fastened the door and leaned over to fasten it and lost his balance. He had badly cut an eyebrow but had not broken any bones which was unusually lucky for him.
My tea arrived and I was just stirring it when I heard someone mention 'Helen Back'. They were none too complimentary about her, and described her in terms I cannot repeat here. It seems that she has some coloured history, was not welcome in the village and that her sister would turn in her grave if she knew she was benefitting from her death. I discovered she was due to depart on the late afternoon coach.
I left my tea.
"Leaving so soon, Sir?" called the host.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I have business to attend to." I tossed him some coins and stepped out.
Betty Tert's run down house seemed empty and I could see no one about. I cautiously crept around the back and heard voices in the yard. Helen had Willy by the throat up against the wall and was threatening him with a sound beating if he did not tell her where his mother's wedding band was. Willy was terrified and sobbing but remained tightlipped. Helen raised her hand to strike him and I stepped out.
"Unhand my Willy, you obnoxious...." I was searching for a suitable word to show my utter disdain, when Willy cried out; "Fockwet!"
"Indeed!" I agreed, "Well said that man!"
Willy kicked her shin hard and she cried out and let him go and he ran and threw his arms about me.
I curled an arm about him and drew him in protectively.
"Now you listen to me, you...."
"Fockwet!" added Willy helpfully.
"Yes," I went on, "If I ever see you around here again I'll have you strung up. Take whatever you want but the boy is coming with me."
I was quite the hero back at the Grange after we told our story, but we had agreed on the way back to leave out some of the vocabulary we used. Jane actually kissed me and hugged me as hard as I have ever remember being hugged.
Just before his bedtime Willy knocked upon my chamber door and slipped in. He stepped forward and held out his hand and in it lay a simple gold band.
"For you," he said.
"Willy," I smiled, " I am a man who appreciates a fine ring but it would be very wrong of me to accept yours."

Monday 18th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Father has gone to Manchesterford. I expect he shall return once I have been sent to Far Corfe. I feel he finds it difficult to face me in light of the interference in my affairs, either that or my Mother feels he will let the cat out of the bag ere long and has banished him. I have managed to glean further details from Mother. I asked how long I am expected to set aside for this excursion, as I was hoping to journey back to Edinburgh, before the Thespians had departed. She said that the arrangement was that I was to Far Corfe and how long I remained there was at my own liberty but that she hoped that under the circumstances I might be inclined to remain there sometime. She said that making other plans was inadvisable at the present and then placing a hand upon my arm, said; "We are only thinking of what is best for you. Let us wait and see the outcome."
Oh, how my mind boggles! Who would have thought that I would end up impatient to be there and see what is afoot?
Fanny wonders if I am being sent to manage Mrs Norris's estate yet, I know of no one more shrewd than she. I doubt she will let anyone handle her purse, let alone open it and dip their fingers in. I fear anyone brave enough to attempt that will find their knuckles severely rapped.
The afternoon saw the unannounced arrival of Willy's aunt Helen; "Mrs Helen Back, at your service, but friends call me Helly." She seemed to be coping quite well with the tragic death of her sister and had come to relieve us of Willy and take him back into the bosom of their family back in Horsforth.
"Is that near Leeds?" I asked.
"Indeed it is, Sir," she nodded.
How awful, I thought.
Jane had expected this day to come and yet was unprepared and her parting with Willy was tearful. Willy too sobbed and in the end was all but dragged away by this aunt he barely knew.
"He is better off with his family, Dear," comforted Mother, after his little fingers were wrenched from clinging to the door and we were finally able to close it.
"Well," I breathed, to break the melancholy silence, "I am sure that, given time, he shall grow to... to...well, to....
like Helly Tert."

Sunday 17th August 1808

Dear Diary,
"Let us give thanks for our joyous bounty, the gift of life!" droned the Parson in his last sermon. I fear the joy was eschewing me. He then went on to christen Molly Ursula Frances Futtock who understandably wailed at the name she was bestowed and I must confess I felt a bond between us, being both at the mercy of our parents thus.
The 'Weverwand Wussell' is indeed to be our next shepherd which completed the morning entirely.
Walking back to the Grange, Willy caught me up and apologised with all the grace and demeanor of an angel for his behaviour last week and offered to play for real, hide and seek, after lunch. I smiled forgivingly and looked back to see who was behind us. Having just rounded a bend, there was no one in sight. I placed a friendly hand upon his shoulder and tripped the oik upon the ground where he, fortuitously, landed face first in a steaming pile of horse manure.
"No, thank you," I sighed as I walked on, feeling slightly better in spirit.
The day did not improve much beyond that. I spent some time wondering if the nuns would give me sanctuary at Ballbanger Abbey and even contemplated running away, perhaps to Manchesterford or London, but dare I risk exile from the Grange?
I fear I must face this...whatever it is...and weather whatever weather I have to weather whether it be good weather or bad weather.

Saturday 16th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I have remained sullen and aloof all day but little good it has done me. Father is obviously avoiding me so I suspect that Mother is the primary force behind this unwelcome excursion. I have endeavoured to illicit more information as to the purpose of this visit but all Mother would offer was; "All will be revealed in due course."
I offered to go tomorrow and get the ordeal over with, whatever it may be, but no, it seems I am not at liberty to do, even that. It seems there is a timetable to be followed and follow it I must.
Jane smiles knowingly but Fanny, I believe, knows nought. Mother knows that she would surely have told me the details if she knew.
"Per'aps you are to marry Mrs Norris and rescue her from widowhood," Ned offered helpfully.
"I wonder how painful death by axe would be?" I mused.
"Oh, Mr Austen, don't say such things! To end your life so." He looked genuinely earnest.
"Not me, you fool. You! If you continue with these ridiculous assumptions." I snapped.
The Parson was invited for dinner as it is to be his last service at Chapel tomorrow. He is going to live with his sister in Hellifield. Fanny was amused by that and tittered behind her napkin but I just wished to be alone and yet had to be sociable.
We were having roast grouse.
"Two large breasts for you Mr Austen," whispered Ned, as he put down my plate.
Despite my mood, I could not help smiling at how difficult it was for him to retain his composure, when I stuck my fork in his thigh.

Friday 15th August 1808

Dear Diary,
As I had been late to bed I was late to rise and rose feeling stiff and tender in places I care not to mention. I ate breakfast, or more a brunch, alone and then lay upon the chaise longue and watched the grey clouds drift past. After some time I heard muffled voices outside the door and then Mother entered. I could see she had something upon her mind as she moved awkwardly and did not know what to do with her hands. She feigned the act of searching for something and then with a sigh sat down upon a chair. The room was silent for many minutes while I waited for the inevitable speech.
"Wayne dear, your Father and I are concerned about you," she said.
"There is no need to be," I replied.
"Well, we are," she rebuffed. "You appear to wander aimlessly through life and live by whim. Opportunities are presented and you seem to let them go rather than grasp them wholeheartedly."
"What opportunities?" I sat up.
"Life changing opportunities," she went on, " so we have decided to act upon your behalf and made arrangements for you to visit Mrs Norris."
"What?... Why?...When?" I was dumbfounded.
"The middle of next week and we shall hear no more about it. It is for your own good." She stood and moved to the door.
"I shall not go, I would rather visit........Bolton." I snapped petulantly.
She stopped at the door, turned and fixed me with an intense stare;
"Wayne, you are going to Far Corfe!"

Thursday 14th August 1808

"Be happy while you're living, for you're a long time 'deed'." Anon

"Niver marry fer money, you'll borrow it cheaper." Anon

"It's a sad house when the hen crows louder than the cock." Anon

"Either I hear bagpipes or someone has put a toe to pussy." Wayne Austen.

Poor Python! I drove him hard but his hooves were clattering upon the Royal Mile before midday. Our journey was uneventful and we saw neither raised dirks nor kilts. The city was seething and I left Python to enjoy his oats and went to explore the streets. I had not been wandering long before I was importuned by a handsome fellow who entreated me to obeserve his playlet and he pressed a pamphlet into my hand. I looked down at the paper and as I looked up again he had gone; vanished into the crowd. The paper read; 'Foreskin's lament'...how intriguing! I resigned myself to fate and followed the simple map upon it and found myself beyond the Flodden Wall in a small, dark chamber. Other people were lurking furtively in the shadows and then we heard shouting...the piece had begun. Five callow youths and a thickset fellow all entered, carousing, and removed all their vestments. I could not believe my eyes...or my luck. The rest of the piece was a blur. I recognised the handsome fellow who had importuned me when attention, finally, turned back to their faces. The playlet involved much shouting but on the whole was competently acted. I stepped out into the light again and was greeted by the sight of Arthur's Seat. It was magnificent in the sunlight and I was tempted to mount it with all the alacrity of a jaunt upon the Knob but time was pressing and there were further delights to enjoy. I enjoyed a piece entitled 'Not everything is significant' performed by a thin, wiry Moor. It was tale told with much wit and style and I emerged ready for refreshment.

I encountered two young fellows in a narrow close; Hurke and Bare, or was it Burke and Hare?... I forget now. They asked if I had ever had a desire to see the hidden Edinburgh and explore the vaults and chambers beneath the streets. They recommended it highly saying they spent much of their time down there and so I sought out a guide and descended into those dark, damp places. It was most unpleasant and quite eerie and I felt very much as if I was experiencing what life must be like in, say Bolton. There was much talk of lonely spirits and poltergeists though happily they seemed to be otherwise engaged this day. There air was heavy down there and I did find it oppressive. I emerged tired and drained. I had been offered accomodation at Hare's lodging house but decided against it. Python was suitably refreshed and so we journeyed back, though not at the haste of our coming. It had been a wonderous day and my only regret was I never got to see someone toss their caber though I feel I came pretty close.

I shall have to go back.

Wednesday 13th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I was idly running my fingers across the stiff spines of the books in the library when I noticed a tome entitled; 'The Scotch Itinerary, Containing The Roads Through Scotland, On A New Plan With Copious Observations For The Entertainment Of Travellers.' by a James Duncan. What an unnecessarily long and pretentious title but, Oh, happy fates! It was most useful in planning my route through the hostile terrain and provided some interesting information about the area. I read:
Thomas of Ercildoune dwelt in the Scottish Borders some 700 years ago. He resided near the Eildon Hills - whence Michael Scot the Wizard instructed three imps to split the single hill into three. Thomas, it is fancied, met the Fairy Queen in the Eildon Hills and she made him to go to Fairyland for three years. On his return he discovered he had the gift of poetry and prophecy and usually made his prophecies in rhymes, similar to those of the more well known Nostradamus. He thus became more popularly known as Thomas the Rhymer. He is credited with predicting the Union of the Crowns which came to pass in 1603. One of his rhymes was "Tide, tide, whate'er betide, There'll aye be Haigs at Bemersyde".
Apparently, there are Haigs presently residing at Beymersyde, for Mrs Crutchlow has a cousin, who has a cousin who is a cousin of their gamekeeper but as for fairies...what poppycock!
"You don't believe in fairies do you Ned?" I asked as he plucked a grouse.
He paused and looked at Mrs Crutchlow, but she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on rinsing her jugs. His mouth opened and shut, then opened and shut as if he were trying to find the right words. Mrs Crutchlow sighed and said her mother had told her that everytime someone denies the existence of fairies, a fairy dies.
"Aye," said Ned, "I heard they 'ung one last week."

Tuesday 12th August 1808

Dear Diary,
The Glorious Twelfth but there was nothing glorious about it.
Father went off with his Todger, dribbling in excitement. The beast knew it was up for some sport no doubt.
I declined a day wandering upon Nethermoor in the persistent rain in favour of a warm seat in the library where I was happily plied with tea and the occasional crumpet.
I am to Edinburgh on Thursday. I have heard rumour of a secret Thespic Festival which sounds most intriguing. It is a shame that it is in Scotland but one must make sacrifices for the Arts. These scotsmen are quite wild I believe and generally hirsute. I am convinced if I ride Python fast enough they shall not unseat me and I shall be past them before they are able to grasp their dirks and raise them. I have heard tell that they like to distract passers-by with the raising their kilts but I shall have to be strong and remain steadfast in my passage.
Oh no, I have blemished this page by dribbling butter upon it from my crumpet.

Monday 11th August 1808

Dear Diary,
There was cause for some concern today when Python acquired a limp. Luckily, I was within striking distance of Cobbler's Bottom and so dismounted and lead him carefully to the Blacksmith. I paused briefly before entering the smithy to rearrange my hair and moisten my lips, then fixing a winning smile upon my face, stepped in. The day worsened when I realised the figure bent over the anvil, revealing more buttock than even I could wish for, was none other than Sam's uncomely assistant. He straightened and pulled up his breeches and turned to greet me.
I am afraid my smile had gone and had been replaced by a grimace.
He smiled and wiped his glistening top lip with the back of his hand, then looked at it and wiped it down his breeches.
"Is Sam available to tend my Python?" I enquired.
"Nah. Sorry, he's busy burping the worm in't mole hole," came the reply.
"I beg your pardon?"
I was somewhat perplexed.
"He's, you know, stormin' t'pearly gates wif his purple headed devil. He'll be up t' his balls in it by now." He looked wistful and distracted for a moment and then, giving a long sigh, said "So you'll haf to mek do wi' me."
It transpired that Python had a 'forn in his 'ock' which seemed easily dealt with and I was able to escape, quickly, back to the Grange.
Ned approached me as I put Python into his stable but I backed away from him for he smelt strongly of manure.
"Ned, have you ever heard of burping a worm in a mole hole?" I asked.
"I have," he said, "but I prefer to growl at the badger or, you know, put my bee in the hive."
"Indeed." I smiled and strode out.
Sometimes I wonder if I am dreaming all the madness around me.

Sunday 10th August 1808

Dear Diary,

The Parson stunned us all this morning by announcing, during his sermon, his intention to retire. I don't think I have seen the congregation so attentive of one of his sermons in recent times. Mouths hung open in shock rather than the usual yawning. Flora Bunder gasped out loud and then Old Mr Bummer made a strange noise and when everyone turned to observe him, he just grinned and said "Pardon me!"

The Parson would not divulge who was to replace him but I have a 'dweadful' feeling who it might be. I hope whoever it is, is as free with their organ as our present Parson has been.

On the walk back to the Grange, Willy approached me and surprised me by asking if I would join him in a game of 'hide and seek' after dinner. He smiled so sweetly and I confess I forgot our past disharmony and so readily agreed. I know a great many hiding places and felt confident I could better him at his game.

When the time came we went out into the garden with Willy deciding to seek first. I crept off as he counted and hid behind the compost mound.

I was there in excess of an hour before I realised I had been had. Willy had no intention of finding me.

Saturday 9th August 1808

Dear Diary,
After all my exertions and the emotion of late I remained much of the day confined to my quarters and engaged in a game of solitaire and 'five against one' which I learned from a dear and intimate friend in my youth.
Oh, how it all came back to me.

Friday 8th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I feel I was not the only one who felt sorrow at the departure of Danielle St Amour this morning. Everyone came out upon the steps to see her off. I helped her into her carriage and found it difficult to relinquish her hand. She sat down by the window and waved at the others gathered upon the steps.
I looked up at her and into her smiling green eyes and blurted out;
"I feel a great deal of affection for you Miss St Amour, as I have done from the first moment I saw you and I should very much like to see you again."
"Oh, Mr Austen, " she looked alarmed, "Don't, please don't!" She waved the coachman on and left me standing upon the gravel, feeling bereft and wondering why she should affect me so.
Luckily, I had a prearranged engagement with Miss Dixon who had invited me to take some air with her and so I rode to Netherton and we enjoyed a very pretty walk indeed and it was a welcome distraction. She is amusing company and insisted on providing lunch. It was indeed a feast with seasonal fruits and soup to start followed by delicious slices of ham.
"What ham is this?" I enquired.
"Let us just say it is 'Birming...ham!" She smiled, "I acquired it from a fellow from Nuneaton."
It was indeed a lovely day and the weather was more appropriate for the time of year. I returned home in the evening and at once the mornings events came back to me.
I wandered the garden in the twilight and found Ned beneath one of his fruit trees.
"Mr Austen, I think I know how you feel. I miss squeezing Titty, but cheer up. Come, nibble my plums."

Thursday 7th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Another dull and inclement day and yet in the presence of Miss St Amour I have hardly been aware of it. I was keen to acquaint her with 'my' Knob and after breakfast revealed it's grandeur to her. She was most taken with it and greatly enjoyed the vista and has, also, become an admirer of my Python.
This afternoon we walked to the Chapel and I showed her my skill upon the Parson's organ. She was keen to finger it herself and though not as proficient as I, her large hands do afford her, a magnificent stretch.
The intercourse between us was easy and relaxed and there was much laughter. I asked her how she knew my cousin Evelyn Tent, (I first encountered Danielle at Evelyn's funeral) and she said they had been childhood friends. However it seems she is not from the Effin Vale but spent some summers there with neighbours of the Tents. She spoke of meeting Dr Cojones and I realised it must have been she who the good doctor had alluded to when he described a 'bery attractibe lady' asking questions about me. Indeed Dr Cojones had arranged for us to meet at Herr Kuntz's Ball, as she spends much of her time upon the continent, although events did not transpire as well as he had hoped.
Dinner, this evening, was a most pleasant affair and my parents, I surmise, are quite taken with her. Even Willy could not take his eyes off her and laughed at her tales and stories of Europe. The mood of the evening dipped when she sadly informed us of her departure tomorrow.
I am confused and yet joyous at the feelings I have for her, for I find her quite intoxicating. I am sure I will enjoy her company again soon.

Wednesday 6th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Such a damp August thus far though I am sure Miss Noring's box will welcome it. I managed to take Python out for a quick canter before lunch but did not risk the Knob. There are only so many times a fellow can return wet, before his health is jeopardized severely. I did manage another, short perambulation this afternoon and was returning up the lane when I espied, none other than, Gustav Wynde in conversation with Ned in the garden. I leapt into the nearest bush which unfortunately turned out to be Holly.
Oh, how I winced!
Peering, cautiously, through the echinate foliage I watched as they appeared to be discussing Ned's magnificent erection. Gustav was rubbing his hands over it and I could see that Ned's head was swelling as Gustav waxed lyrical about it.
Eventually, I saw Ned shake his head and gesticulate towards Cobbler's Bottom and Gustav returned back down the lane looking most crestfallen. I remained as still as I could while he passed by, despite feeling numerous pricks about my person, then extricated myself carefully and rushed up to Ned.
"What did he want?" I asked him.
"He was keen to see you, Mr Austen," he replied, "But I told him you were not here and he left."
"Well done, Ned!" I congratulated him. " You dispatched him superbly." I could see his head was swelling again.
I turned and began to walk towards the house.
"But I told him you would be back soon," he called after me, still smiling.
I was in the cellar when I heard the knocker rap upon the front door. It was only few moments later that the cellar door at the top of the steps opened and Ned called down;
"Mr Austen, you have a visitor."
I reluctantly climbed the stairs, concocting terrible ways to exact my revenge upon him for revealing my hiding place then, with a sigh, stepped out into the hall to face My Wynde. The brightness of the light in the hall blinded me for a few seconds and as my vision cleared I saw the unexpected, but welcome, face of Danielle St Amour.
"Mr Austen," she stepped forward and held out her hand, " why were you in the cellar in the dark?"
"Miss St Amour," I smiled, "I was just expriencing, at first hand, the plight of the blind." I turned to Ned and I could see he was fighting the urge to laugh. I glared at him and he knew he was in trouble.
"Ned, Miss St Amour is damp and cold, follow us into the parlour and stoke the fire."
She perched upon the chaise longue as I stood by and watched Ned wield the poker. At that moment there was more knocking at the front door.
Ned hesitated and looked at me but I indicated that he should keep on poking. We heard footsteps in the hall and muffled voices. Ned suddenly stood up as the parlour door opened and knocked me over onto Miss St Amour. We sprawled across the chaise longue and she cried out in shock.
Mr Wynde stood in the doorway and his eyes widened at the sight before him. His mouth opened as if he were about to speak but shut suddenly as he turned and squeezed back out, past an equally shocked Mrs Crutchlow. We heard the front door close with deliberate force and then all was quiet.
I felt a strange vibration move through my body and I realised Miss St Amour was laughing, slowly but surely the sound rose until the room was filled with her, dare I say, sensual and throaty laughter.

Tuesday 5th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I found Ned in his shed this morning and told him how Miss Noring had offered her box for my efforts in hunting for their Merkin. I suspect he was not yet fully awake for his eyes glazed over as he tried to make sense of my words and then he grinned and gave me a wink.
He seemed to become more confused again when I showed him the five minature bushes she had given me and I suggested they be best arranged in a quincunx somewhere in the garden.
I spent much of the day walking in the hills above Netherdale, from Netherscale Fell to Netherback by way of Netherdale Crags. It was bright at first but the clouds gathered and the rain began to fall so that by the time I returned to the valley I was muddy and wet. I was not in the best of moods as I returned to the Grange and was about to remove my soiled boots when Ned called me over.
"Come see your lady garden," he said proudly.
He had arranged the bushes in a 'V' shape and not quincuncially as I had intended.
"It really looks like a lady garden, don't it?" He beamed.
"What is the sixth plant you have used at the bottom of the 'V'?" I asked resignedly.
"A 'rubus cockburnianus'," he laughed, " 'Propriate eh? But we'll have to keep it trimmed."

Monday 4th August 1808

Dear Diary,
I cannot allow the incident with the toad to deter me from my daily constitutional, so I set off briskly after breakfast but ensured I paid close attention to the pathway ahead. As I approached Cobbler's End I became aware of someone in distress and quickened my pace. I came across Miss Lott sobbing at her gate and in a quite dreadful state.
"Whatever is the matter?" I asked, most earnestly.
"We've lost our 'merkin'," she wept.
"Fear not, Miss Lott, for I will help you in your search," I pronounced heroically, but was still unsure as to what it was I was looking for exactly. "What does your 'merkin' look like?" I enquired.
"Well," she murmured bravely, "small, black fur and a white tip upon her tail."
"You sit and dry your tears and let me find your pussy," I said. She opened her mouth to speak but I raised my hand to quieten her and stalked off.
I searched their garden and then the surrounding woodland and hedgerows for some three hours crying 'Merkin! Merkin!' before, finally, I returned to their home defeated.
I grasped their knocker and wondered how to word the unfortunate news when the door swung open to reveal Miss Noring stroking her muff.
"Mr Austen, we saw you coming up the path," she smiled.
"I am sorry, Miss Noring, but I have not been able to lay my hand to your Merkin." I confessed.
"Then here, " she laughed, "stroke it now," and she offered up her muff which I was alarmed to see was alive and moving. It was no pussy. Merkin, it seems, is a ferret. I declined the chance to stroke it and expressed my relief at their reunion and turned to leave.
"Mr Austen, I must give you something for your trouble. Come," she said, "and see what you think of my box."

Sunday 3rd August 1808

Dear Diary,
I feel I have seriously neglected the glorious countryside hereabouts of late, though to be fair it has not been through idleness.
After Chapel I ventured out into the woods that circle the Knob and wandered the old familiar paths and byeways, I have grown to love. The air was fresh and clean and the earth was damp and foisty. The recent heavy showers appeared to have cleansed the abundent greenery so that the leaves shone as they fluttered on the branches. The birds sang joyfully from the treetops and young rabbits scurried across the path as I moved along it. There was a definite spring in my step as I drank in the sights and the sounds of the verdant world about me.
I was rejoicing in the wonder of nature when I stepped upon a toad.
What a mess it made of my boot!
I hobbled home, with hand clasped over my mouth to stifle my retching, where Ned pulled it off and cleaned it.

Saturday 2nd August 1808

Dear Diary,
And still the sky weeps.
The house is melancholy and dark. Wandering it's passageways the air is filled with sighs and quiet sobbing but all this mourning will not bring Betty Tert back to us. Perhaps my heart is hardening, so long is it, since it has been allowed to blossom. I look at the rain splattering the casement and add another sigh to the many others that have been issued this day.
Orphan Willy is to stay with us for now but Jane believes he has family that will be, as yet, unaware of the sorry circumstances. I fear she is in no great hurry to discover them for she has grown fond of the little lad and I confess that despite his occasional devilment there are times when he tugs at my stiffening heartstrings.
I wandered into the scullery for some oral distraction and found Mrs Crutchlow washing her jugs.
The door opened and in came Ned carrying an armful of wood for the stove and the pockets of his breeches bulging with carrots.
"I'll be with you in a minute, Ned," said Mrs Crutchlow not looking up from her rinsing, " pop the carrots on the table for me, will you?"
Ned was stumped as he stood there laden down. "Would you mind, Mr Austen?" he asked.
I smiled in acquiescence and began removing the carrots from his bulging pockets and placed them upon the table. Mrs Crutchlow dried her hands and turning, with hands purposefully, on her hips said;
"Right Ned, let's relieve you of your load."
I thought I espied a carrot I had overlooked, bulging in Neds breeches and quickly slipped my hand in to retrieve it. I grasped it's bulbous end and pulled. Ned gasped and the logs clattered noisily to the floor.
Mrs Crutchlow leapt back like a startled heifer. Ned stood there sheepishly clasping his nethers and I blushed momentarily before we all dissolved into helpless laughter.

Friday 1st August 1808

Dear Diary,
I am filled with sorrow and an unfamiliar sense of loss.
Danielle St Amour departed this morning. I cannot blame her, for all at Thrushcock Grange are somewhat distracted at the moment and she felt her presence, an unwelcome intrusuion. She was content to see me safe and well after my heavy handling by Frau Gimpel and said she would be delighted to correspond with me further and perhaps call upon me again at a more opportune time.
She held out her hand;
"Goodbye, for now, Mr Austen," she breathed and our hands lingered together for a moment longer than necessary. Her thin lips curled up in a shy smile and her cheeks began to flush before she turned her head away from me and stepped out to her carriage.
I confess that as we stood in the rain at the churchyard this afternoon and Betty Tert was lowered into the ground my thoughts were not with the deceased but with another. I was startled from my reverie when I felt her take my hand again and I looked down and saw that it was Willy. His little hand had reached up and grasped mine as he looked straight ahead. He was fighting his emotions, his bottom lip quivering and his face streaming with both rain and tears. I held his hand and squeezed it gently and conveyed to him all the strength I could to endure that moment.