Chapter 41
Elizabeth shivered a little and got up to stoke the fire again before sitting back down beside Nan, who was dozing on the sofa, her legs raised on the footstool, swathed in blankets.
She smiled at the cosy setting, and returned to her sewing. Elizabeth was embroidering several handkerchiefs for Nan to give to her nephew for Christmas, along with the little cakes that Mrs Simmonds would make for him. They would make a comprehensive gift for the old lady to give.
Her mind flew back as it often seemed to now, to Pemberley again. Last Christmas, she remembered all the work and busyness, ensuring the tenant boxes were ready for distribution, and then a few weeks later, beginning to visit all the tenants.
Who would be doing them this year, she wondered? Was Mrs Kerr overwhelmed with the work she had hoped to share with her, and with caring for Mrs Reynolds, too?
Elizabeth glanced sideways at Mrs Price.
As she had deteriorated more severely into her senility, so it was likely that Mrs Reynolds was the same.
Had she missed Elizabeth’s visits before she began to forget people?
But then, Elizabeth had always felt invisible while there.
She had been and gone, unlikely to have caused more than a ripple.
Thoughts of Pemberley brought the brooding master to mind. Mr Darcy! Time had begun to soften her anger at him. Last Christmas he had still been very much affected by his injury, and she wondered what his recollections of the time were.
She heard the whistle of the kettle from the kitchen, and secured her embroidery before leaning forward to clear the low table in front of her.
“Here’s your tea, Miss Lucy, and your Nan’s, too.” Mrs Simmonds placed the tray down in front of them. “While she’s takin that with you, I’ll be in the kitchen, checking that butcher’s boy hasn’t brought bad meat to us.”
Elizabeth was almost beginning to think of herself as Lucy now, because using another name in front of Nan brought out a confused and not very pleasant side of the old lady, so they had all agreed that Lizzy should become Lucy amongst themselves.
That afternoon, Elizabeth attempted to assist Nan with a short walk from the sitting room to the kitchen, sorry that the weather was too inclement to allow the old lady some fresh air. She would be disturbed tonight, for without time outside, the woman slept ill.
Christmas had come and gone, and Elizabeth was feeling rather unsettled.
Mr Price had visited his aunt several times over the holiday, but it seemed that he talked rather more often to Elizabeth than his aunt.
Though it had been happening increasingly of late, he was now less likely to try to involve the old lady in the conversations, and Elizabeth had seen Mrs Simmonds's knowing look as she had seen him out of the door. That had cost her several nights’ sleep, and resided in her mind during the day.
If her life here became too uncomfortable, she might have to leave … and go … where?
She had been more fortunate than she could have imagined, finding this place to live, be accepted and feel useful.
But Mr Price had rather over-stepped the mark, she thought.
He had given Mrs Simmonds an envelope, probably with an appropriate Christmas bonus.
But to have said that he had added to his aunt’s account at the modiste enough for a new warm gown for Elizabeth, in gratitude for her caring for Nan?
It felt wrong, and far, far too much, not to mention inappropriate.
Elizabeth could not imagine ever arranging an appointment to choose one.
She was not free to accept attention from any man, and she certainly did not wish to.
Mr Price had been kindness itself, but he was a similar age to her father and uncle, and that was the role she had thought of him in.
Yesterday, he had spoken unexpectedly of the loss of his wife, some five years earlier, and she had begun to feel a prickle of uneasiness.
But she felt at home here. She was needed, she was useful.
She could not run away again. What would that make her?
Somehow, she must sift the possibilities in her mind.
If she told him she was not free to marry, he might immediately ask her to move on.
He might offer her a less honourable alternative, thinking she would be desperate enough to accept.
Or he might be offended that his friendship had been misinterpreted and send her on her way.
But if she said nothing, and he made her an offer, he might be angry that she had said nothing and had ‘led him on’.
She could not think of any answer and the various choices echoed in her head whenever there was space to think.
“You haven’t been to the circulating library since afore Christmas, Miss Lucy.” Mrs Simmonds looked rather concerned at Elizabeth’s tired face when she came down that morning. “I can watch Nan while you take a breath of air and go to the library.”
Elizabeth had not thought about that for the space of a week. Her worries about her security here had rendered her unable to finish the books she had borrowed, but she knew she must take this opportunity to leave the house.
“Thank you, Mrs Simmonds. You are a dear to think of it. As soon as I’ve settled Nan in her chair, I will accept. I won’t take long, though.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll do a little baking, a little seed cake when you get back will be just the thing!”
Elizabeth pushed open the door of the bookshop where the circulating library took up a row of shelves at the back. She hastily shut the door against the cold air, and smiled at Mrs Edwards. “Good morning, and best wishes for this new year!”
The woman nodded. “Come to change your books, Miss Lucy, or to hear all the latest gossip?”
“Oh, perhaps both, if you please. Mrs Simmonds will need some news as a reward for the little seed cakes she is making and I will make sure I bring one round for you tomorrow!”
Elizabeth had been worried the local people would be suspicious of her. After all, they knew the real Lucy was not here. But they had all accepted her by now, and that using the name was best for poor Mrs Price.
“Ah, well. Mrs Simmonds thrives on what gossip she can share, an’ your old Nan used to enjoy it, too. How is she today?”
After Elizabeth had reassured her, she browsed the shelves of books, listening with one ear while the bookseller checked back the books she had returned, all the while gossiping away.
“Oh, yes, and be sure to tell Mrs Simmonds that the heir to Tealing Park has been found. He was a distant cousin of the old man and is apparently young and unmarried.” She nodded speculatively at Elizabeth.
“All the single young ladies and their Mamas in town are aflutter with excitement. He came to see the steward last week, who said he appears a serious and honourable young man, and he studied the ledgers and looked around the house before he went away again.”
“And what is the name of this estimable young man, who is assuredly very handsome?” Elizabeth said dryly.
“His name is Hughes, and he is a clergyman, the cousin of a baron, no less!” The woman’s eyes were wide with excitement and awe, and Elizabeth felt rather sorry for the young man, who would have a large number of hopes to live up to.
“So when does the fortunate Mr Hughes take up residence at his new estate? Tealing Park, I think you said it was?”
“I have not heard that, but I would not think it can be very long. Surely any man would be pleased to inherit such a good-sized estate and be anxious to proclaim himself a gentleman!”