Harris steadied the stirrup as she mounted. “Thank you, Harris.”
He inclined his head and mounted his own horse.
They set off at an easy pace down the lane toward Meryton. The morning was clear, and she felt herself relax with the gentle breeze. Before long they drew up outside the dressmaker’s shop. Harris dismounted first and came forward to hold her horse while she alighted. Elizabeth gave him a nod of thanks and entered the shop.
Mrs. Turner looked up from her worktable and smiled. “Miss Elizabeth, how do you do?”
“I am very well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied warmly, taking her hands briefly. “And how is Nathan?”
Mrs. Turner glanced toward the rear of the shop, where a small boy sat upon the floor, intent upon a toy horse. “Much improved. The air in London did not agree with him. He is far happier here.”
At the sound of his name, Nathan looked up and came toward Elizabeth, his expression bright.
She bent slightly to meet him at his height. “And how are you this morning, Nathan?”
“Good,” he said solemnly.
Elizabeth smiled. “I wondered whether you might like something.” She glanced at Mrs. Turner, who gave a small nod of approval.
“As it happens,” Elizabeth continued, drawing a few small twists of paper from her pocket, “I brought you a few sugar plums.”
Nathan accepted them with visible delight.
Mrs. Turner leaned down and said softly, “What do you say?”
“Thank you, Miss Lizzy,” Nathan replied before returning to his toy.
Elizabeth rose. “I leave for London this afternoon. Have you a list for me?”
Mrs. Turner produced a neatly folded paper. “If it is not inconvenient.”
Elizabeth scanned it briefly, her expression thoughtful. “This will do very well. What cannot be obtained at once should arrive within the week.”
“That would be a great relief,” Mrs. Turner said. “I have several commissions nearly finished and shall begin the next as soon as the fabric comes.”
Elizabeth inclined her head. “You shall have it the day after tomorrow.” With a brief smile, she took her leave.
***
Elizabeth opened the door to her small writing room. Though modest in size, she kept it well ordered. A broad window admitted ample light, and a small desk stood near the hearth,several ledgers stacked neatly upon it. A low fire burned, taking the chill from the air.
She seated herself and drew a folded list from the drawer, reviewing it briefly before a knock sounded at the door. “Come in, Mr. Wilmot.”
The steward entered and inclined his head before taking the offered chair. “We are prepared for London,” he said. “The two wagons are nearly loaded and will be ready to depart at noon.”
“Very good,” Elizabeth replied, glancing down at her paper. “And the new tenants?”
“They are settling well. No complaints thus far. The housekeeper reports nothing out of the ordinary.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I am glad of it.”
Mr. Wilmot continued, “Mr. Bingley requested a tour of the estate yesterday. I accompanied him. He expressed a desire to meet several of the tenants tomorrow morning. His friend, Mr. Darcy, rode with us.”
Elizabeth’s expression remained composed. “Indeed.”
“He appears knowledgeable in such matters,” Mr. Wilmot added. “He asked sensible questions.”
“I am pleased to hear it,” Elizabeth said evenly. “And the Army order?”
