“Very big,” said Georgiana.
“Too large for my comfort,” replied Elizabeth. “I would not desire to live in London — though I enjoy visits.”
“I love the city. Though the country is calm and pleasant, I have always spent part of each year in London, and I shall happily be here the entirety of the year. Mr. Peake has engaged tidy lodgings two blocks from your uncle’s along East Cheap Street, we shall be snug — not taking more space than we must; we hope for more children, of course, and shall need to launch them creditably. Alittlefrugality early shall establish habits which ensurethatwill be easy. But space enough for us both, and my maid,andan extra room we can squeeze you into when you visit. Promise you shall visit, though you normally stay with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in Town. And beg your mother to visit as well.”
“YouwantMama to visit?” Elizabeth laughed. “She has risen in my estimation as well of late.”
“I always adored her. She was so kind to me from the first.”
“She has always been kind toyou. I shall relay your invitation, and she will be delighted to make such a visit. And proud that you requested her.”
The two strolled along the nave towards the massive banded wooden doors, past the rows of intricately carved pews made from dark woods. “We have talked around the subject sufficiently.” Elizabeth smiled weakly. “What of your brother? How does he do?”
“He…he…” Georgiana shook her head. “I hardly know what to say.”
They stepped outside. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still overcast, and the rain had washed the thick London fog. Their footman joined them again. Elizabeth took Georgiana’s arm to lead her towards the Thames to walk along a footpath that looked out over the river between the docksides.
The two were quiet; the streets were not.
After a short walk the road took them to a leafy prospect with a wrought iron railing they could lean upon and watch the Thames flow below. The London Bridge, piled high with houses, stood east of them, and the mighty sluggish river flowed its slow way, with skiffs and canoes and ships sailing in each direction, and crowds of people, and the beauty of the packed buildings along the waterline.
“Fitzwilliam was foolish. He pushed you — I know! He told me the story. How could he be sostupidas to make you that angry!” Georgiana hopped with anger. Then she deflated, and stared sadly at the ships. “I wish…”
A bird hopped from branch to branch on the bare tree above them. Elizabeth sighed. The bird looked at them and cocked its red head and chirped.
“I keep hoping he will come.” Georgiana did not look up. “When carriages unexpectedly stop outside, I imagine it is him following me to admit he cares for me more than family pride. I will sob if he is not present at the wedding.”
“Oh dear girl! I counseled you to act according to your own best lights. Will you be happy without Fitzwilliam’s blessing? There is no hurry. Hurry is something I never would encourage in matters matrimonial.”
“So long. We waited, and then another month. I delay no longer.”
The lark flew away and the two walked back through wet crowded streets to the Gardiner’s ample townhouse. A stiff breeze blew, knocking their curls astray, blowing their bonnets askew and chilling them through their coats.
“If he comes back, promise to listen to him, and let him apologize.” Georgiana looked pleadingly at Elizabeth with wide eager eyes. She seized Elizabeth’s hands and squeezed them. “You two were perfect for each other.”
“We were not. Not at all. We argued at every turn; we shared neither values nor philosophy. A dreadful match.”
“You were. Perfect together.”
“Georgie…”
“You were. Youare. I want you for my sister and I want you to be Fitzwilliam’s wife. I still hope for it.”
Give up hope.
Instead of a harsh reply, Elizabeth shrugged. Georgiana wanted what Georgiana wanted. It was not likely to happen.
“Promise you will listen to him when he returns.”
“I promise, that, in the utterly unlikely case your haughty brother condescends to speak to me about our past connection, I promise that I will sincerely listen to any apology he makes, and that I will then ask my reason if an intimate connection betwixt us would have any likelihood of success. But my reason will speak nay once again.”
They reentered the house, and after their coats were hung up and their walking shoes removed, the housekeeper left the two alone again. Georgiana looked at Elizabeth with hurt soulful eyes.
“I do not desire reconciliation. I ended matters between us for excellent reasons. Fitzwilliam cannot wish a reconciliation either. Not now that he has had chance for his passions to cool — and further now that he hasfurtherexample of my pernicious influence—”
“He loves you. Hecried…”
Elizabeth closed her eyes. She did not wish to recall their happiness.
