Chapter One #3
“If ye grow weak from my pretty words, never fear for I shall be here to catch ye.”
She giggled, the wine causing the world around her to mix and swirl as George twirled her around.
Her happy future would be like this: bright and cheerful colours floating about them and charming the world for them.
She was wise enough to know things would not always be easy, but for her and George the world would be kinder than to most. It was simply true.
All of a sudden, Elizabeth had a memory of their first day together upon Bishop's Hill when they had graduated from friends to sweethearts.
She had been playing with Soter, and George had scolded her for distracting them from their tasks.
Still playful, Elizabeth had tried running from George when he shooed her away, but slipped and fell, twisting her ankle.
He was by her side in an instant, his arms beneath her, and he lifted her effortlessly.
For a moment, the world had frozen and sparkled like coloured glass, and he had kissed her, his soft, warm lips breathing a sweetness into her soul that she had never known.
“Then, my dearest George, I fear ye best catch me now for the wine has gone to my head and my feet might not lead me home.”
“Soter! Mind the flock a moment.”
The dog barked in acknowledgement and resumed his duties as George led Elizabeth down Bishop's Hill and towards Longbourn Manor, where Hill, Elizabeth's faithful governess, met them at the garden gate. The governess’s face was etched with deep lines of concern over the state of her mistress, and she gave George a heavy glare, made only darker by the sudden clouds that rolled above their heads.
“What have ye been about, Master George, taking Miss Elizabeth to the vines like this? ’Tis not a gentlemanlike thing to do!”
“Oh, pish!” Elizabeth waved a drunken hand at her worried caretaker. She brushed a kiss over George's cheek before she made an unsuccessful attempt at unlocking the secured gate.
George held on to her swaying form even as he unfastened the rusty catch and smiled at the scowling governess.
“Madame Hill, I assure ye I am most concerned regarding my lady's wellness. Hence, I have returned her to your care. She had a bit too much wine when we ate and begged me to bring her home, which I have. I have left my flock and must return presently.”
“Go then,” Hill muttered as she wrapped her arm about Elizabeth's waist. “And mind that ye get into no more trouble, young sir!”
He waved in acknowledgement and hurried in the direction of his flock. Elizabeth refused to budge until George was out of sight, her fingers clenching the white garden gate as the scent of roses caught on the fresh, wild wind.
Carefully, Hill led her charge to her chambers where the governess undressed her, gave her a tablet of sugar and a spoonful of milk to stave off a headache, and tucked her into bed.
In all likelihood, Elizabeth would be well enough to share the evening meal with her Papa and the guests they were expecting.
When it seemed that Elizabeth was asleep, Hill slipped out of the chamber. But the sound of the door closing alerted Elizabeth, and she rose. She had to speak to her Papa, to ask him a question about her planned marriage.
It turned out she was the second person to be interested in Papa. When she came around the corner, Hill had just entered his library leaving the door ajar. What was she about? Elizabeth peeked in. Papa was studying a register with a frown on his face.
The governess approached with care. “Master, may I bother ye for a moment?” Papa looked up, and Elizabeth stepped back so she would not be seen.
“Madame, ’tis not a bother. Come, how is my daughter?”
“She went to visit young Master George on the hill today. Methinks she should be more careful.”
“My Eliza is a smart lass, Madame. She is promised to young George, but she would not besmirch her reputation before she has made her vows to him.”
“She returned today with too much wine in her head, Master.”
He frowned again, his eyes on the book before him, and then levelled his gaze at the loyal servant standing before him.
Papa would be aware that he had indulged his daughter more than he should have over the years.
After the death of Mama and her two sisters, Elizabeth was all he had left, and by his actions, it was obvious that he prized her above all else.
“Madame Hill, I shall speak with Lizzy regarding her behaviour, if ye think it necessary.”
“I do, Master.”
“Very well.”
“If that is all, Madame, I have figures I need to return to.”
Hill bobbed her head in acknowledgement and made for the door.
Elizabeth rounded the corner and hurried to her bedchamber with the speed of a frightened rabbit.
Her behaviour was not so bad, was it? Surely, Papa trusted her enough to visit her George alone in broad daylight, no matter what Hill said.
Elizabeth chaffed at the implied accusations of her governess.
She was nearly a woman married. Why did she still have a governess, anyway?