Chapter 44
Elizabeth stepped out briskly, sniffing the autumn air. She had always loved September as the most invigorating month to walk and breathe.
Sixteen months; that meant she had been here, living as Lucy Price for one year and four months. Never had she imagined being able to settle in one place so soon after leaving Pemberley — leaving Mr Darcy — and staying in much more comfort than she had ever imagined possible.
But she had to admit, it did not feel quite like home. Not like Longbourn with the family of her birth, although even there was not the place she thought of first when she longed for home.
No, that was the gracious house in the beautiful grounds, guarded by the sheltering peaks behind it, and hundreds of acres — the natural landscape of lawns, meadows, woodlands and water.
The lake and the river, the streams and the little rills that formed a burbling backdrop to the overlying sounds of nature.
The people of Pemberley, those she could help, and those who helped her. But most of all, the brooding, darkly handsome man who was still her husband.
The last year had softened her. She could remember the letter she had written, and had begun to feel rather ashamed of her cutting remarks to a man who had been severely injured not really that many months before she had savaged him in writing with all her complaints.
Those complaints had been justified, she told herself, but perhaps she ought to have pushed a little more.
Perhaps she ought to have spoken outright to Colonel Fitzwilliam when he had called, ought to have asked him to intercede; to ensure she had a companion, and had access to her pin money.
Life might have been easier that way, might have allowed her to stay and learn with Mr Darcy how to make their marriage work.
She would not go back, of course. Never that. But she hoped he was well and could move on with his life. She knew she must let her bitterness go, or she could never really move on.
But her insecurity was always at the background of her mind; Nan was failing — more slowly now, but still failing.
Her nephew’s attentions to Elizabeth were more muted, but still apparent.
Elizabeth wondered if Mrs Simmonds had spoken to him, although she considered she would still have to leave here when the inevitable happened.
That knowledge sapped her spirit and stopped her feeling settled here. There was a constraint in her friendships, and a wariness within her. She knew not what might happen to her.
Elizabeth shook her head fiercely; she would not waste a minute more of her precious free moments in dwelling on matters that could not be changed.
Mrs Edwards at the booksellers awaited her with a head full of new gossip, no doubt, and Elizabeth would put on a cheerful expression and determine to enjoy herself.
Mr Hughes was a favourite within his new neighbourhood, although, to the anguish of all the local mamas, he had recently married, his betrothed had been from his previous situation in Derbyshire.
The name of the county had always disquieted Elizabeth, but she knew it was a large county, and she would not know the new Mrs Hughes, any more than she had known the man when he had arrived.
Elizabeth hefted the library books in her arms as she pushed open the shop door. “Good morning!” she called out cheerfully.
There was another lady at the counter, and Mrs Edwards broke from speaking to her to call out a return greeting, and then returned her attention to her customer. Elizabeth looked at her. She didn’t believe she recognised the lady, but a view of her back was not very informative.
She quietly placed the books on the table near the counter and crossed to the bookshelf of the circulating library, rather hoping that this newly delivered selection might have a better choice than the last one.
“Miss Lucy!” The bookseller’s voice was pitched just loud enough to catch her notice, and she turned with a smile.
“Mrs Hughes has asked to be introduced to you,” Mrs Edwards said, and Elizabeth gave the new young lady all her attention.
She was young, exceedingly so. Elizabeth thought she was, perhaps, around eight and ten years of age, and her own amusement at herself caused a brighter smile.
She must push the thought to the back of her mind about Mama’s view of being on the shelf at two and twenty, and concentrate on the introduction.
“Good morning, Mrs Hughes. It is very good to meet you at last. The neighbourhood has been eager to make your acquaintance.”
The lady dipped her head. “It has been pleasant to meet so many friendly people.”
Elizabeth at once realised the innate shyness of the girl, despite her air of sophistication.
“Although I suppose being the object of so much attention might have been a little overwhelming at first. But I am sure Mr Hughes is a great help to you, knowing, as he does, the area rather better.”
They spoke for a few more minutes, before Elizabeth drew the conversation to a close, because Mrs Hughes did not seem quite able to do so. “Well, it has been lovely to meet you, and I hope to further our acquaintance, but I must choose some books before I return to Nan.”
“Oh, yes, I must not keep you. Mrs Edwards has told me of your devotion to your grandmother.”
Elizabeth cringed inside at the fiction, but kept her expression unchanged.
“I am very fortunate that the housekeeper is able to watch her enough to allow me some fresh air most days, or I become quite restless.” Elizabeth laughed.
“But enough about me. I do hope you find life here in Minting pleasant and enjoyable.”
The girl hesitated, as if about to say something of vital importance, and Elizabeth waited; the girl was shyer than Maria Lucas.
“Miss Price, might you … might you be able to see your way to coming to tea one day? If you feel able to give up your fresh air? Perhaps the day after tomorrow, if it is convenient?”
Elizabeth smiled at her. She could be friends with this shy young lady.
“That sounds wonderful. I would very much enjoy that. If Mrs Simmonds is unable to see to Nan then, I will send a note. Otherwise, I will be happy to call.” She repressed a smile as the girl looked delighted that her efforts had been successful.