Chapter 23
After two days of contemplating ways to get out of her obligation, and of considering whether that was even her preference, Lucy finally reconciled with herself that she would follow through as planned.
So it was that some five days later, she found herself on her way to Elsworth once more.
Were the visit to be a social one involving company, her parents would have insisted on her taking the coach, but as it was a spring day and she was not attending a tea party, she was able to convince them that she might ride.
The day was sufficiently fine and the pace sufficiently easy that Daisy, a horse with whom Lucy had a strained relationship, was mostly behaving herself.
Even the Elsworth grounds seemed fresh and ready for opportunity, having reclaimed some of their natural growth following the manicuring they had received prior to the ball.
As she drew up to the front door, she saw a familiar face, though one that had been altered by the years.
‘Miss Lucy.’ Thomas Marbrook tipped his hat.
As a groundsman at Atherton he had on occasion overlooked Margaret’s more adventurous exploits or Lucy’s rapacious curiosity as they explored their surroundings.
When the children no longer needed nurse or minder in the form of his wife, the couple were fortunate enough to find this position, caring for Elsworth.
‘It is good to see you again, Thomas. The state of the grounds does you credit.’
‘I can only claim so much. It is a fine estate that does well in caring for itself.’
‘I hope the new master of the place is treating you well.’
‘Aye. He is a straightforward man. Having met his father but once I cannot say how he compares, but he assuredly has an affection for the place. My Theodora tells me she shall be chaperoning you today.’
‘She shall. Is she well?’
‘Her hearing is not what it used to be, but I dare say her cooking improves year by year.’
‘We were fortunate enough to sample it last week.’
‘If you wish, I shall lead your horse to the stable. Mrs Marbrook awaits you.’
Lucy nodded, handing him the reins and stepping up to knock upon the front door. With surprising swiftness she was met with the warm and welcoming face of her old nurse.
‘Miss Lucy.’
Though it did not come naturally, Lucy felt it right that she should embrace her former companion.
While she had a fondness for the woman and mostly good memories, she was aware that the Elliot girls had not always been the most gracious of charges.
They were not so much ill-behaved as they were beholden to their characters – Margaret cooperative but impulsive, Lucy shy but stubborn.
Mrs Marbrook had tended them with patience, though it could be sorely tested.
As they had grown, so too had their respect for the woman.
A sad aspect of reality was that by the time they were old enough to truly appreciate their nurse, they were also old enough that her services were no longer required.
‘I take it you are well here?’ Lucy asked when they broke apart.
Mrs Marbrook nodded thoughtfully. ‘I could ask for little more to satisfy me than the life I have.’
‘Thomas mentioned your hearing has been troubling you?’
‘Pardon?’ The older woman paused for a second then grinned. ‘Oh, I’m not so bad. I’ve heard most of his stories anyway.’
‘I hope it is not too great an imposition to request your time today.’
‘Not at all. Our Sally and Thomas Junior are off at the town school, and I had no plans but to knit them up new woollens. They’re growing so fast they shan’t fit them by next winter.’
‘Is Captain Dashwood in?’
‘He is expected back from town within the hour. I hope it is not impertinent of me to ask how things are at Atherton.’
‘It would only be proper of me to inform you of such things.’
‘My dear Lucy, it seems your sense of duty drives you as fiercely as ever.’
‘I should like to think that the perspective of an adult means that I am able to discern when propriety is appropriate to the situation.’
‘Whether it is proper to be proper?’ Mrs Marbrook asked with amusement.
‘Yes. I suppose that is an apt summary.’
Half an hour passed in pleasant reminiscing before they were interrupted by the sound of hooves and cartwheels. They exited the manor to the sight of Captain Dashwood on horseback with a cart covered by a cloth, drawn by a younger man.
He rides very well. Lucy recalled her sister’s words. It was a claim she could not fault, for he sat upon his horse with a comfortable appearance she had never seen him in before. It was as if at any moment he could just as easily casually dismount or burst into action.
Or sweep a maiden off her feet.
That, she realised, would be quite impractical. Without stirrups, she would have to hold on tightly, arms wrapped around his waist, pressed to his back and—
‘Miss Elliot. I hope you have not been building without me.’
‘Why ever should you make such an assumption?’
‘Your complexion is somewhat flushed. Then again it is a hot day.’ He dismounted gracefully, wiping his brow with a neckerchief.
‘Yes,’ she said abruptly. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘I apologise for my delay. My expedition took longer than planned.’
‘Not at all, Captain. It has been a pleasure catching up with Mrs Marbrook. Your expedition?’
‘Parts ordered from London. Jim, would you take the cart around to the stables? Miss Elliot, I must excuse myself to change garments for the workshop.’
She nodded politely, taking a breath, and only briefly visualising what that act of him changing might look like. She followed the cart to the stables at the rear of the house, where the young man uncoupled the horses.
‘Ma’am.’ He bowed in a polite but slightly awkward manner.
‘Did I hear your name was Jim?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘You served with Captain Dashwood?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
Lucy swiftly assessed that the boy was not to be a wealth of information about the captain.
Then again, perhaps he was simply shy about new company, something she herself could certainly attest to.
Even so, it struck her as curious that Dashwood should bring an army attendant with him on a family affair.
Jim drew back the covers on the cart to reveal an assortment of parts and pieces all jumbled in a manner that instantly offended her sensibilities but equally challenged her instinct to identify them.
There were, she concluded, more than enough parts to fully construct a coach and have some left over, depending on which customisation they chose.
‘Were you with the messenger cavalry, Jim?’
‘No, ma’am. Engineers.’
‘Engineers?’
‘Yes, ma’am. I come from a long line of shipwrights.’
‘Then shouldn’t—’
‘Shouldn’t I be in the navy?’ he finished with the familiarity of someone who had answered the question many times before. He caught himself and resumed a more humble tone. ‘Apologies, ma’am. I meant no offence.’
‘Nor is it taken,’ she replied. ‘But I expect there is a tale to it.’
‘Not much of one. No sea legs. I can swim all day, but I get ill in a rowboat. So no navy life for me.’
‘Well, you’re better than me. I can’t swim at all.’
‘I don’t suppose you’d need to. Luckily there are plenty of things to build on land.’
‘So how is it you are here with Captain Dashwood?’
‘Not my place to say, ma’am. I go where I’m told.’
‘Of course.’
She said no more but watched as he moved the parts, assembling them in her mind, deconstructing and rebuilding over and over again. One model for speed. One for manoeuvrability. One for stability.
But how to achieve them all? Was it even possible?
As in life, coach racing seemed to be a world of compromises.
She was halfway through mentally remodelling the front rigging when Captain Dashwood reappeared, accompanied by Mrs Marbrook.
Her host had changed into looser trousers and a jacket that had seen better days and would have had him quietly expelled from some of the more expensive parlours of the district.
And yet he seemed perfectly at ease in the clothes.
How many worlds can this man comfortably inhabit, Lucy thought, when I find it hard enough to abide one?
‘Thank you for waiting, Miss Elliot. Forgive my impertinence earlier. It was in jest. I didn’t really think you had started building without me.’
‘On the contrary, sir, I have been building for several minutes.’
‘You have?’ He looked about in confusion.
‘Perhaps “designing” would be a more appropriate word. You have the makings of a passable coach here.’
‘If that is what we have, then I have no doubt that between us we can make a great one.’
Lucy couldn’t help the tiny smile that curved her mouth at his words. She turned studiously back to the parts, before he could see it.