When breakfast was nearly concluded, Mr. Gardiner laid aside his napkin and rose.
“My dear, I must be off. Hargrave expects me first, and there are others to be seen in the course of the day. Sir Thomas Ellison has pressed me for a consultation, Captain Mountjoy is eager for his turn, and Mr. Darcy has also desired a fuller account. It may take some hours to bring all to their close.”
“I shall keep something hot for you, Edward.”
He bent to kiss her cheek before turning to Elizabeth.
“And you, my dear girl, do not tire yourself with too long a walk again. The shore is beautiful, but the tide comes swiftly. Promise me you will keep James in sight.”
Elizabeth assured him with a smile, and he pressed her hand before departing. His affectionate concern warmed her more than the chocolate in her cup. It was so unlike her own father, whose words of parting were most often cloaked in irony or indifferent banter. The steady kindness of her uncle carried no sting, and Elizabeth found herself watching the door a moment longer after it had closed behind him.
Her aunt rose with her embroidery frame and settled near the window. For a few minutes Elizabeth wandered restlessly about the parlour, pausing first at the shelves, then at the sea beyond the glass. Yet her thoughts refused to settle. They returned instead to the morning and the gentleman she had met upon the shore. She had seen him once before at Covent Garden, though then only in the dimness of the theatre. To encounter him again so unexpectedly had startled her more than she cared to admit.
Who could he be? His manner had carried a gravity that suggested consequence, yet his courtesy had been simple and direct. He was clearly known to her aunt's wider family, for why else should he have appeared both in Lord Matlock's box and now upon this very shore?
The question lingered only a moment before Elizabeth dismissed it. To speculate upon a stranger was foolish. Not wishing to dwell upon him longer, she reached instead for Jane's letter, which lay folded upon a small table where she had left it the evening before. Hoping it might distract her thoughts, she broke the seal and began to read.
My dearest Lizzy,
Longbourn feels strangely altered without you. Mama complains that nothing can be found, Lydia has already misplaced two ribbons and insists they were stolen, and Kitty has been in one of her odd humours, alternately following Lydia everywhere and quarrelling with her whenever she does.
I cannot tell you how often I have thought of you these past few days. I went to your room on the morning of your departure intending to bid you goodbye properly, only to discover that you had already gone below. I waited a little while, believing you would return, but when you did not, I feared I should only delay you by seeking you out. I have regretted it ever since.
You must not suppose I let you leave without a thought. I missed our farewell more than I can express.
I hope your journey was comfortable and that Aunt Gardiner is spoiling you as thoroughly as she always threatens to do. Pray write soon and tell me everything.
Your ever affectionate sister,
Jane
Elizabeth folded the letter carefully and sat for some moments with it in her hands. Her aunt's voice interrupted the reverie. “Lizzy, shall we see what the village offers? My mother will be glad of some trifle, and I think we ought to send a small token to Amelia and Lord Ashford before their household is overrun by our children.”
Elizabeth laughed.
“That seems only fair.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled and gathered her bonnet and gloves.
“Come along, then. Let us see what the village can provide.”
Together they stepped out into the sunshine.
The village proved small but lively, the cottages whitewashed and bright, with flower pots set in nearly every window. Fishing nets hung drying against walls, and the air carried mingled scents of tar, salt, and newly baked bread. The main street offered only a handful of shops: a draper’s, a toy-maker’s with wooden horses in the window, a haberdasher’s where ribbons fluttered like streamers in the breeze, and even a modest lending library. Elizabeth’s eyes lit at the last, though Mrs. Gardiner promised they would visit another day when more time could be spared.
They paused first at the toy-maker's. Shelves crowded with painted soldiers, carved animals, dolls, and puzzles lined the walls, while a collection of wooden skittles occupied a place of honour near the window.
Mrs. Gardiner lifted the skittles and laughed. “Bethany will be enchanted with these. She has always longed to topple something without being scolded for it.”
Elizabeth set them aside for purchase and reached instead for a small carved horse. Its mane had been carefully painted, and one foreleg was raised as though in mid-gallop.
“Eddie would prize this.”
“He would attempt to ride it before the day was out,” said Mrs. Gardiner.
“Certainly.”
A rattle hanging nearby caught her aunt's eye.
