Chapter 36
The Elliots were surprised when Lucy returned in the company of Captain Dashwood, now with Jim seated between them for propriety.
The parents were neither displeased nor disappointed at the chance meeting.
Lucy imagined that, like her sister, her parents were increasingly optimistic about a match between the two, and such a meeting furthered that end.
With Margaret yet to return from town, there was a spare seat for lunch, which Mr Elliot cheerfully offered to the captain.
Dashwood politely declined, citing other business to attend to, but happily accepting such a request for another time.
They waved him farewell and Lucy wondered if his route home might involve any of the ‘other trails’ he had mentioned.
For the moment, her practical part in the investigation was, once again, on hold.
Her luggage unpacked and returned to her room, Lucy spent several luxurious minutes lying on her bed, the familiar curves and textures soft and comforting.
Were it not morning, and was her company not anticipated, she should have stayed longer.
Instead she changed into a lighter dress, for the day was warm, and went to join her parents for lunch in the dining room.
Lucy expressed her approval of the trip, and where questions required she might have to dissemble, she instead sidetracked into practical details of her experience that were entirely true.
After the meal, and once she had reclaimed her letter from Molly, Lucy found herself back in her room, strangely unsettled by her recent experiences – so different to the world she’d always known.
To focus herself, she decided to write down some notes, for while she had taken a notebook with her, she’d been remiss in her scribing.
Now, she found the memories and ideas flowing so that it was some hours before her focus was broken by a knock at the door.
She gave invitation and Margaret entered.
‘I have heard your visit was most positive.’
‘Remarkable. And I have lost track of time since.’
Margaret’s mood was more sombre than Lucy had expected, and one generally reserved for the bearing of bad tidings.
‘Margaret? What is the matter?’
Lucy dearly hoped she was not the target of this disappointment. If the truth of the past few days had somehow got out, she was unsure quite how she should cope with it.
‘I have bad news, Lucy. I have just spent the morning consoling Charlotte Wyndham. The marriage to George St Martin has been called off.’
‘Called off? Whatever for?’
‘There has been a rather disgraceful scandal, quite out of her control. Her father has made a string of imprudent investments, throwing good money after bad in the hope of recovery. They shall not be ruined utterly, but it is a great fall for them. The estate shall surely be lost. And, of course, it reflects so ill on poor Charlotte that she cannot marry into the St Martin family now. George withdrew from the engagement.’
‘That at least is a consolation, though I am sure it offers her little solace.’
‘Lucy. How can you say such a thing?’
‘Charlotte bears no shame for her father’s deeds.
George St Martin does not want for money.
If he truly loved her then he would offer to take her in.
In the eyes of some, that would make him a greater man, not a lesser.
The fact that he does not, shows he cared more for her status and wealth than he did for her.
So there is the consolation: George St Martin is a flighty man, and she is better suited to another.
Though … that is from a detached eye. The girl herself, I imagine, is heartbroken. ’
‘She is. I have seldom seen her more forlorn. Such a warm and animated creature as she normally is, it seems cruel that this has been taken from her. Had the news broken in only a few more weeks then it would have already been settled and she would have the comfort of the St Martins. But perhaps it is, as you say, a blessing that time will reveal.’
‘How long has this been going on? Robert Wyndham is a respected businessman. Surely his losses must have been known.’
‘It is because of his success that he was able to hide it. Had he let up earlier it might have been a blow, but not such a tarnishing as this. It is an awful business, Lucy.’
‘I shall send her a letter. I cannot say my company would be of great consolation to her at this time. I should offer practical solutions when they are neither requested nor suited. But she has my sympathies.’
‘Perhaps when you are finished we can discuss your trip. I dare say it would make a welcome distraction to my thoughts.’
Lucy agreed, turning her notes aside to begin her letter.
By the time it was done, and after a bath, it was the dinner hour, and so it was not until later that Margaret and Lucy were able to discuss the events of the past few days in private.
Again Lucy was evasive rather than deceptive, but painfully aware that her sister was more likely to see through gaps in her narrative.
‘I was told that you were returned home by our friend Captain Dashwood?’
‘Yes. It was rather a stroke of luck to encounter him on the return.’
‘It is perhaps poor form to hope for such when ill luck is elsewhere, but it seems undeniable that there is an attraction between you. Did you learn any more about him?’
Lucy’s mind flashed to an image of the shirtless captain shovelling earth.
‘He is,’ she replied tactfully, ‘an admirable man, and the time spent with him has indeed improved my opinion of him. But I still cannot be sure of his intentions of courtship. In light of recent events, I would lean towards caution rather than assumption.’
‘Perhaps wise on a day like this. To think that when you left, everything seemed so bright for George and Charlotte. There wasn’t even the slightest sign of ill fortune on the horizon.’
Margaret’s words reminded Lucy of something she had not thought of amidst the excitement of her expedition and the sad news of the cancelled wedding. Perhaps there had been a sign. A ghostly pursuer, who had been a harbinger of doom.
Lucy dismissed such foolishness.
But that night, as she drifted off to sleep, she had a nagging instinct that there was something to it after all; something she could not pin down.
She dreamed of riding in a coach, trying to make repairs even as it sped through the night.
So bumpy was the ride that every time she reached for her tools she found them to have moved elsewhere.
She turned to Dashwood to ask him to slow down, only to see that he was ghostly white and missing his head.
Lucy awoke then with a start.
Despite being back in the comfort of her own bed, she slept more fitfully that night than she had for some time.