Jane Austens Novels & Stories

She stepped forward and said, “Mr Wentworth, do you remember me? My name is Jane Colton. I used to work for the Wentworth group-” “Should I know you? I have thousands of employees under me,” Aaron interrupted her coldly. "I'm afraid nothing about you looks familiar. You don't particularly stand out." Jane’s face flushed. She didn’t expect Aaron to come out so strongly. It was as if he had already dismissed her before even giving her a chance to be heard. His cold and distant attitude was enough to make anyone stay away. However, she didn’t let it stop her from achieving her goal. She glanced at him and said, “Mr Wentworth, who were you calling your wife just now? Is it Tessa? But do you know

The one thing that she turns to when she needs an escape from her reality at the moment. “You must have something.” Gabe prombts her. “An old, worn out copy of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë that I keep in between my mattresses so that no one will find it and take it from me. Reading that book always brings me comfort.” And gives her hope. It makes her feel so much better to read it.

I just feel like I'm a little clueless when it comes to dating. I slipped into a little black dress. It was fitted, so I was grateful for all those classes I took after I had Penelope. It had long sleeves and it was full of sequins so I was covered enough for a first date. I wonder will Jack like it! Tonight will be the first time he'll actually see me out of my work clothes. I want to make a good impression. I waited in the living area for what felt like forever, when finally the doorbell rang. Jack wasn't late picking me up, I was just quick getting ready. I was too anxious to do anything but wait.

She pats her abdomen for emphasis. Once she closes the door to her room behind her, she finds herself pacing back and forth, desperate for something to do. She can't seem to sit for too long. Her eye catches a book she's been wanting to read. Reading hasn't exactly fit her mood lately. In one swift motion, she grabs the novel off the shelf, jumps into bed, and opens to the first chapter.

The Russell family estate in northern Kent, four miles east of the village of Hexby, was in an uproar. Jane, the Marchioness of Rochester, was on the verge of strangling her second youngest child, one Linus Winston Russell. Despite her own knowledge that she had birthed that troublesome boy twenty-one years before, sometimes she swore he hadn't matured past the age of eight.

Jane cocked her brows, her eyes glimmering with mischief, resembling an enchanting fairy, incredibly alluring. She asked, "You’ll take everything?" Zachary's Adam's apple bobbed as he nodded. Jane laughed, articulating every word. "You... can’t... satisfy... me..." Seeing Zachary's ever-changing and unpleasant expression brought her a sense of satisfaction. "As a man, you can't even handle this much, yet you keep complaining to me. I prefer a man who is better in bed. Sorry, Mr. Collins, you're getting old."

Smith’s face became more and more gloomy, Linda Park panicked, and quickly added: "Actually, although that ugly woman is my assistant, she has nothing to do with me, and she was given to me by someone else, otherwise I wouldn't let such a stupid ugly womanly be my assistant." "Ugly?" James Smith looked at her deeply, a cold look that made Linda Park shiver. Linda Park said cautiously: "she's ugly, she's skinny like a skeleton, and she has a scar on her head, which is scary. If you don't believe me, ask others." Saying that, she bumped Jasmine Wells with her arm. Jasmine Wells nodded quickly: "she's really ugly." James Smith’s brows were furrowed. Alexa West glanced at him and said, "James, p

Opening the door, Christiana stood in front of her. "I forgot my handbag and umbrella at your house." "So sorry for the inconvenience." Her voice was laced with remorse. Staring at her, Daisy Hunter said," What, No, it's really okay…I too forget my stuff in people's homes." Daisy Hunter said, smiling gleefully, exposing her perfect dentition. Stepping into the dimly lit room, Christiana spotted her handbag and umbrella, grabbing it, she thanked Daisy and stepped out immediately.

The next morning, he left. Jane was supposed to be living her best years, but she lived as though she was an old woman of seventy or eighty. During the winter, when it was sunny out, she would take her chair and her blanket, as well as a hot-water bottle to warm her hands and feet with. With these, she would sit on the porch and bask in the sun. She lived like she was dying. A new butler arrived at the manor. The new butler was often serious and expressionless, similar to Mr. Summers. Early in the morning, Jane could hear the old butler passing the baton to his successor.

At precisely two o'clock, somebody sat opposite her. No introduction. No hesitation. No dramatic reveal. Just a woman taking a seat. Quietly. Naturally. As though they'd known each other for years. Jessica stared. Unable to speak. Unable to process what she was seeing. Because Isabelle wasn't a stranger. Not entirely. The woman appeared to be in her late fifties. Perhaps early sixties. Grey beginning to appear in her dark hair. Sharp intelligent eyes. A face marked by experience. By survival. By life.