Miss Austen's Vampire Read Free Page A

She was taller than was common, slender, and had dull, mousy-brown hair that was having a hard time staying in its place. But he noticed her eyes were a bright hazel and looked as if they hid a spirited person behind them. Her lips turned up in a half-smile before she boldly introduced herself.
    “I find the custom of waiting to be introduced quite tiresome, so please allow me to introduce myself. I am Miss Jane Austen, and you I believe are Lady Dartfourd’s brother.”
    Though briefly taken aback by her forwardness, Gabriel smiled broadly at the woman. Yes, there was some fire behind those eyes. And upon closer inspection, she wasn’t entirely unattractive. There was a certain softness about her eyes and mouth that was appealing.
    Miss Jane Austen. He knew of that name. Certainly from the Hampshire area. There was a reason he was familiar with the name, though he couldn’t immediately identify it.
    “Yes, I am Her Ladyship’s brother, Mr. Gabriel Augustine. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Austen.”
    Miss Austen! Of course. He had heard rumor—indeed, from his sister—that she had written the surprisingly amusing book that so many were talking about, and that he himself had thoroughly enjoyed. Written under the simple pseudonym, A Lady, few knew who the true writer was, though he suspected that number was growing. How his sister had learned of her identity, he did not know. In truth, he admired the writing in the book so much he had read it a second time, something he rarely ever did. The well-drawn characters, the truthful portrayal of country people, and the humor above all had enchanted him. And here the authoress herself stood before him.
    Suddenly he was tongue-tied, in awe of this woman who could write so deftly. Indeed, her writing was admired throughout England. It was even rumored that the Prince Regent was an admirer.
    “Oh my, Miss Austen, you must forgive me, I . . . I did not at first realize to whom I was speaking. You are, are you not, the true authoress of the book written under the pen name A Lady?”
    She cast her eyes down, examining the bubbles rising to the surface of her champagne, and a blush began to rise on her cheeks.
    “I am afraid you have me out, Mr. Augustine.” She raised her eyes to Gabriel’s. “I am indeed the authoress. It is quite remarkable how one’s true identity becomes known, however much one tries to hide it behind a pseudonym. When in social circumstances, I prefer simply to be Miss Austen of Hampshire, the late-vicar’s daughter. No more, no less.”
    “Forgive me, I understand. So I will refrain from taking this opportunity to tell you how greatly I admired Pride and Prejudice , that I read it twice, and am now considering reading it a third time, that your portrayals of the Bennets and their friends and neighbors was highly amusing, and that you are an exceptionally talented lady. No, I will refrain from such talk.” Gabriel smiled and winked at Miss Austen.
    The laugh that came from the intriguing woman was not the drawing-room chuckle of a lady, but a full-throated laugh from deep within her. Gabriel couldn’t help himself but to join in.
    Miss Goodhaven cleared her throat and leaned in more closely to Gabriel.
    “Well, Mr. Augustine, it is such a relief to know that I will not be hearing such praise heaped upon me tonight.” Miss Austen wiped at a tear that escaped an eye. “And may I assume you have not read either of my other published books, and I will not be forced to hear praise lavished upon them either?”
    The other books. How could he have forgotten there was more than the one? The humiliation he felt at slighting this talented woman was great.
    “Miss Austen, please accept my apologies. I, of course . . .”
    She interrupted him, raising the palm of her hand. “Mr. Augustine, please say no more. I did not mean to make a plea for further praise, and now I am afraid I will be quite embarrassed if we do not quickly change the subject.”
    He