It had been lovely to dine with Papa and Aunt, like old times. But when we retired to the parlour and I spied Mama’s portrait hanging in its new position above the pianoforte, I could not help but feel disconcerted that there were changes happening beyond my control. If I had been living here, would Papa have grown a moustache and consented to Mama’s portrait being moved? I think not!
Another thing I was pondering was Aunt’s parting remark in the hallway when I saw her out. ‘Enjoy your time in Bath, Felicity,’she had said, pulling on her gloves. ‘But stay vigilant where Lucinda is concerned.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, as her chaperone, you will need to make sure she is not led astray. She is too young and impressionable to be going to such a place.’
I felt like saying, ‘It’s only Bath, not Sodom and Gomorrah.’ But I held my tongue.
‘I will do my best, Aunt,’ I said dutifully.
She shook her head. ‘Pray, what is her mother thinking, sending her there?’
‘She wants her to find a husband.’
‘Yes, but what kind of husband will she find?’
‘A fun one?’
Aunt had tutted, but I didn’t think I should be too concerned about Lucinda attracting the wrong kind of man. As Max had said, she was a good girl—a quiet bookworm with too much good sense to be ‘led astray’.
Chapter 3
Breaking up our journey at Papa’s had been an excellent plan. After partaking of Sue’s nourishing meals and having a couple of good night’s sleep, I recovered my natural optimism. But all too soon, it was time to leave for Bath; and on that morning, Lucinda and I were up bright and early.
Saying goodbye to Papa was not easy. But he reassured me that he was content and looking forward to Harriet, Evan, and little Evie coming to Ashbury. And that Mrs Snelling was always popping over with news and keeping him entertained—I tried not to dwell on that! A letter to Harriet asking if she knew anything about the nature of their relationship was definitely well overdue!
Meanwhile, we had a day of stagecoach travel to endure. Being packed in with other passengers, and Lucinda’s elbow poking into my ribs whenever she moved, could have been trying. But I did not let it temper my excitement. Soon, we would reach Bath and, of course, Jane!
When the coach made an unscheduled stop on a high ridgeline to drop off a passenger who lived in a nearby farm,Lucinda and I took the opportunity to stretch our legs while their luggage was offloaded. A thin-faced woman had insisted on the window being raised for much of the journey, so I was feeling nauseous again.
I breathed in lungfuls of cool fresh air and delighted in the glorious view. All around were green rolling meadows, and way down in the valley, I saw a church spire rising from a cluster of honey-coloured buildings.
One of the drivers, a middle-aged man with a neatly clipped beard, had joined us for a smoke. ‘Excuse me, but is that Bath?’ I asked him. He nodded.
‘When will we reach it?’
He sucked on his cheroot and blew a stream of smoke out of the side of his mouth downwind.
‘Not long, madam, an hour at best,’ he replied, flicking something from beneath a fingernail. He glanced at Lucinda, who had wandered off a short way to peer at some grazing cows. ‘She your daughter?’
What impertinence! How old does he think I am?‘No, she is not. She is my sister-in-law’s daughter. I am but four years older.’ I pursed my lips in annoyance.
He saw that I had taken offence and doffed his hat. ‘Apologies, madam. It was an easy mistake to make, what with such attractive ladies as yourselves being so similar in appearance.’
I humphed, partly mollified, and he grinned.
He ground out his cheroot stub with his boot heel and said, ‘Right, madam, we best be off if you and yourniecewant to arrive in Bath before nightfall.’
I went to collect Lucinda forthwith. Hopefully, it was a one-off occurrence because he had poor eyesight—I did not want to be mistaken for her mother when we were socialising!
Whether the driver urged the horses to gallop faster to make up for his faux pas, I did not know, but the last leg of the journey passed rapidly. Before we knew it, we were standing with our trunks on the front stoop of 13 Queen Square, our home for the next six weeks.
Lucinda’s hand rested on my arm, and I could feel it quivering.
‘Do not be anxious. The Austens are very friendly and welcoming,’ I said and raised my hand to rap the brass knocker smartly on the cobalt-blue door.
We waited, but the door did not open.
