Chapter Three
Aweek after their arrival, Elizabeth’s father stood at the front steps of Hollydale House, waving off Elizabeth and her mother as they set out for Lambton in one of Mr. Ellis’s carriages.
“Do try to restrain yourself, my dear,” he called out to Mamma with a wry smile.
“There is no need to refurbish the entire house in one day.”
Mamma waved her handkerchief in response, and the carriage began to move.
Papa had hired a workman to repair the floor, and now her mother’s focus was firmly on the other refurbishments.
Elizabeth watched out the window as they rolled through the lush park and out onto the main road, noting another large road that veered to the left as they approached town.
She wondered where it led, and then her mind wandered back to last evening’s dinner.
“Perhaps you shall never need the house at all,” Papa had teased Mamma. “Perhaps I shall outlast even Mr. Collins.”
“That would be the best solution,” her mother had said as she sipped her soup. “If only you could arrange it so.”
Papa had laughed aloud. “Without any nefarious action on my part, of course. I shall see what I can do, Fanny.”
And then her mother had met his gaze and winked at him. Winked!
Elizabeth had felt suddenly de trop.
The carriage rolled over a rut, which jarred Elizabeth back to the present.
They were approaching Lambton now, which was only a few miles from Hollydale.
She gazed out the carriage window as they entered town.
Not much had changed since she was last here with the Gardiners.
As they passed by several shops, Elizabeth glanced over at her mother.
Mamma, sitting next to her, was deep in thought, no doubt mentally rearranging the furnishings of Hollydale and planning new colours for the curtains.
The house needed much more than a few changes in decoration, but she knew these smaller projects brought Mamma a great deal of satisfaction.
Elizabeth was more concerned with understanding the estate and its workings, which would take time, patience, and careful attention.
“Lambton seems a charming little town,” Mamma remarked. “It is smaller than Meryton but has a pleasant air about it.”
“Meryton is much closer to London,” Elizabeth replied. “It is not surprising the town there should be larger.”
Her mother nodded absently. “I do hope the draper has something suitable, or I shall have to ask your Aunt Gardiner to be on the watch for us.”
“I am sure we shall find something you like, Mamma. Would you mind very much if I paid a short visit to Mr. Milner while you begin shopping? You shall not require my advice to narrow down your options.”
“I do wish you would take more interest in the house, Lizzy. You are to be its mistress.” Mamma pressed her lips together. “I suppose a short visit cannot hurt, so long as you promise to attend me directly after. Perhaps he shall know who it would be proper to invite to our first dinner.”
Their first dinner was months away and the guests were likely to be family, given the state of things.
“I promise to assist you when I return.”
The carriage slowed as they approached the draper’s. About fifty yards further on the road ended, and a modest stone church sat on a small rise, its whitewashed steeple reaching up towards the sky. It was a simple, beautiful building, surrounded by a well-kept graveyard with ancient headstones.
“Here we are,” Mamma said as the footman opened the carriage door. “Now, do not be too long with the vicar, Lizzy. We have much to do!”
Elizabeth smiled reassuringly at her mother as she stepped down onto the pavement. “I shall return shortly. You will hardly notice I am gone.”
With that, Elizabeth made her way up the street to the church, a footman from Hollydale trailing after her.
She sighed. Her father had been overly protective ever since they arrived at Hollydale.
But this was Lambton. Nothing was going to happen to her here.
With a deep breath, she pushed the wooden doors open and stepped inside.
The interior of the church was inviting, with sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows and casting colourful patterns on the stone floor.
The scent of polished wood and old books filled the air, and a peaceful silence enveloped her.
As she strolled deeper into the church, footsteps approached.
A moment later, a middle-aged man with a rounded middle, kind eyes, and a thoughtful expression appeared from behind a side door.
“Why, bless me, if it is not Miss Elizabeth Bennet!” he greeted her with a wide smile and a slight bow. “What a wonderful surprise to have you returned to us. I had not expected to see you again.”
She smiled, feeling immediately at ease in his presence. “Good morning, Mr. Milner. It is wonderful to see you too. How is Mrs. Milner? Your children?”
“My family is well, thank you. We welcomed our first grandchild last June.”
“How lovely,” Elizabeth said, genuinely pleased for him. “Congratulations are in order, and you have mine.”
Mr. Milner nodded, pleased. “Mrs. Milner will be pleased to see you. How long are you here this time? And where are your aunt and uncle?”
“I suppose that answers one of my questions,” Elizabeth replied. “You did not know, then?”
“Know what?” Mr. Milner asked.
Elizabeth hesitated, but Mr. Ellis had said that she could trust the vicar. “Would you mind keeping this private, sir? Eventually it will be known, but I would not wish to attract any . . . unwanted attention.”
Mr. Milner’s forehead creased, but he nodded. “You have my word, of course.”
She glanced about to be certain they were alone. Only the footman stood in the vestibule. “Mr. Ellis has left Hollydale to me.”
The vicar froze for a moment, then sat heavily in one of the pews. “My goodness.”
“I came to inquire what you knew of it.”
“Not much, although if you are asking whether I know of the additional responsibilities that come with it, I can confirm that I do.”
Elizabeth took a seat next to Mr. Milner.
“There is so much I need to know. First, I wish to do what is best for the estate and for those who live on it, and there is a good deal to accomplish there. But I should also like to help the church assist others in the area, particularly as the festive season approaches.”
Mr. Milner smiled genially. “When you are ready, you only need call.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated, wanting to ask a dozen questions and unsure whether she ought to.
“Mr. Ellis was quite delighted by you, you know,” the pastor told her before she could untangle her thoughts.
“You could rattle off Latin but loved to be outdoors—he laughed a good deal whenever he thought about you waiting to see a woodcock. He had you convinced they were some mighty creatures with an enormous wingspan, and when one actually appeared, you only laughed with him.”
Elizabeth recalled that with perfect clarity, for she had felt quite grown up at thirteen and certain he could not fool her with his wild tales, so wise had she become.
She had been embarrassed at first, but what else could she do but laugh at herself?
And at the woodcock, for its grunt was so comical.
Mr. Ellis had adored them for just that reason.
“He and his wife were never able to have any children, and she died young. He had a distant cousin, but she died fifteen years ago now, she and her child. Her husband made a few trips here after, but I have not seen him in years.” Mr. Milner settled back in his chair.
“Mr. Ellis made himself available to help in the community more often than most estate owners had time for. I always suspected he was lonely, out there at Hollydale by himself. He had been very much in love with his wife and could not be convinced to marry again.” He smiled at Elizabeth, and then his countenance brightened.
“He saw you as a grandchild, I dare say.”
Elizabeth had certainly seen him as a grandfather figure, having lost both of her own. But because of the distance between their homes, they had not been in company a great deal. She stood. “Thank you, Mr. Milner. I would like to visit Mr. Ellis, and then I must return to my mother.”
“It is wonderful to have you here in Lambton, Miss Bennet. You will come and see me again when you are ready, yes?”
“I shall, Mr. Milner.” She strode out and then to the side of the church, where the newer headstones were set in tidy lines.
She knew precisely where Mr. Ellis was buried, for she had first met him as he stood at his wife’s grave, and she knew he would be buried there too.
Even then, Mrs. Ellis had been dead many years, but Mr. Ellis had been crouching next to her stone with tears in his eyes.
Elizabeth had asked him who was buried there, and then what his wife had been like.
The stories had tumbled from him like water poured out of a pitcher.
“Good day, Mr. Ellis,” she said as she stood next to the mound of newly turned earth.
“I am sorry I could not be here to wish you farewell, but no one thought to send for me until they read the will.” She laced the fingers of her hands together.
“I wanted to pay my respects and to say that knowing my mother and sisters will always have a home is a gift I can never repay, and I intend to do all I am able to carry on your legacy.” She paused.
“I am glad you are with Mrs. Ellis again.”
There was no answer, of course, but Elizabeth could feel her old friend in the silence of the cemetery and the cool breeze that made the hem of her skirt flutter. A rustling sound in the brush made her pause for a moment, and she turned her head to look.
A particularly fat woodcock was waddling into the trees that bordered the far side of the churchyard. They were usually asleep by this time of day.
She watched his progress as long as she dared, but Mamma was waiting.