Chapter 45
Anna looked out of one of the windows that overlooked the driveway. Lucy was going to call this morning, and she was one of the most regular and pleasant callers that Georgiana knew here. No, I am Anna. I must forget Georgiana.
The housekeeper entered quietly. “All is prepared as you asked for, Mrs Hughes.”
“Oh, thank you, Mrs Gray. I believe my friend will enjoy the fresh air.”
“There is not much doubt of that, madam. You have come to know her very well in the few weeks you have been here.”
Georgiana nodded at her, and looked back out of the window.
It did not feel like a few weeks; it felt much longer, in fact, than the two months it had been.
Part of that had been her beloved Mr Hughes, no, her Robert, of course.
His support and care for her here had been all she could have imagined.
Although it still felt … odd … that she, Anna, could be married.
She had quite thought William would not consider her grown up enough until she was about forty.
Perhaps Richard, or Aunt Alice, had interceded for her.
But she felt that the main part of what had made her feel so settled here was Lucy. Her new friend was all she could have asked for in someone to have by her.
And here she was, coming along the drive.
Lucy’s head was up, her face alight with cheerfulness as she regarded the beauties of the estate and nature around her.
She always looked like that, Anna knew. It was as if she was determined that happiness could be found within the worst of circumstances, and she somehow gave Anna a sense of peace she had rarely felt with anyone else.
She turned from the window and hurried into the hall. She would not stand on ceremony, on formality, with her friend. And she was mistress of this house, and no one could now gainsay her. That was an achievement for her.
“Good morning, Anna!” Lucy’s cheerful voice drew her from her thoughts as her friend gave her outerwear to the waiting footman. “What have you planned for today? I know you always think of something different to do.”
“Oh, the weather is so fine, and the meadow beyond the lawn is full of colour. I have had tea arranged to have on the terrace. There is one part that is shaded by the east wing of the house, and there will be the breeze to keep us cool.”
“Delightful! And the shade will keep our noses from getting too brown! I am sure your aunt was quite firm about that!”
Anna laughed. “It is as if you know her, my friend.” She took Lucy’s arm and led her through the drawing room and to the terrace. Lucy went immediately to the stone balustrade and stared out at the meadow.
“Beautiful,” she breathed quietly, and Anna, who had come up beside her, thought she saw an instant of sadness, before Lucy noticed she was there, and that sadness flickered out of sight as if it had never been.
Taking tea, they talked as if they had seen each other only yesterday, instead of only the once a week that was all the time Lucy could be spared.
Anna wondered at the past sadnesses that Lucy had lived and never spoke about.
“My brother will be coming next month, I think — he is so protective.” She shook her head fondly.
“I thought it would be impossible to keep him away for so long. But he writes to me every week and asks questions about whether I am well and such-like.” She rolled her eyes.
“I am fortunate Robert is so good-humoured about it.”
“He sounds like an utterly devoted brother.” Lucy’s voice was warm.
Georgiana wondered if she could get her friend to speak of her past. “Is your Nan the only family you have left?”
“Almost.” Lucy changed the subject, looking out at the meadow. “You have the most beautiful estate, you know. Have you decided what you wish to change first?”
“Well,” Anna glanced round. She didn’t want any servant to hear.
“I find it awfully intimidating, the house is so large to have responsibility for. But the decoration is quite tired. I was thinking to start with something small. The morning room, perhaps. It is one of the smallest parlours, and has very dark red furnishings. I think I could make a difference to it.”
“That is a wonderful idea.” Lucy clapped her hands together. “You are thinking of exactly the right way to go about it. Something small that can seem completely different with a few changes, and without too much disruption to the rest of the house.”
“Oh, thank you for saying that. It makes me feel better.” Anna grasped her friend’s hand. “I wish I’d had a friend like you when I was growing up.”
“I have a saying I wonder if you might like to attempt to live by, Anna. Only remember the past as it gives you pleasure. There will always be things in the past that you cannot change no matter how much you must wish to. But it is important not to dwell on them. Learn from them and then let them go.”
Anna looked at her curiously. There was a sense of resolution in her friend’s words. Perhaps she sometimes found them hard to follow. She squeezed Lucy’s hand. “I will remember that.”
Later, as she watched her friend walking away down the drive, back to her dedicated life of care, she was distracted when the post was delivered to the butler, and she crossed to the drawing room to receive it.
She sorted through them, there was nothing of importance.
She recalled yesterday’s letter from William.
He had noted that the work on the dower house had been completed, and that he had commissioned new lavender beds to border the walkway in the garden nearby.
Anna furrowed her brow; she did not understand why this project seemed to be of such importance to him that he would write to her of it, but then, she did not understand much of what he said now.
All she really knew was that he was utterly changed.
He was still her devoted brother, but he had changed.
There was a heaviness about him, a sense that the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
His wife’s departure had hurt him badly.
Her lips tightened; she would go to review the menus for the next day, perhaps.