Making their way to the nearest carriage for hire, a young man with a cart assisting with their trunks, the sisters paid him and piled into the small space in short order, the shivering of the three eldest stilled somewhat in light of the warmth of so many bodies pushed together.
Thirty minutes later the five sisters’ hearts eased as they stood in front of the Gardiner residence, the street dim with the recent setting of the sun and continual rain. The dark hued door illuminated by little more than the light of the carriage lanterns below, Jane made her way up to it while Elizabeth saw to it that the trunks were retrieved and the men paid.
The carriage driving away as two footmen emerged from the light of the foyer, their trunks were quickly collected as the girls made their way into the dry warmth of the house.
“Jane? Elizabeth? Girls?” Aunt Gardiner said, her tone filled with unspoken questions as she directed them toward the warmth of the drawing room; a light motion with her hand prompting a servant to add food for the fire.
“You came?” Uncle Gardiner noted, the same questioning tone nestled within his voice. “It is good to see you all.”
Brows pulling inward, Elizabeth went to stand nearer the fire. “Aunt did invite us, did she not? I have a distinct feeling that somehow you did not expect us to accept?”
“No,” Aunt Gardiner said as she handed the girls warm blankets. “It is not that, it is merely… we posted the letter five days ago. We assumed you were not coming given the time which had passed. If we had known, we would have delayed your father’s journey by a day or two.”
Five days? No. They had only received the letter that morning. Aunt had to be mistaken… how could such an error have occurred?
“You mean,” Elizabeth questioned as she took a step away from the warmth of the fire, “Father has sailed?”
“This morning,” their uncle answered, his lips pulling downward. “We would have delayed, if we had known.”
“Known,” Mary exclaimed, arms crossing as she glowered at him. “How could we send word when your letter only arrived this morning? We left within two hours of receiving it. Jane, Elizabeth, and I sat in the rain on top of a mail coach to be here! And now you say it was all for naught?”
Wrapping her arms around Mary, Jane sought to pacify all. “Some delay must have occurred. Perhaps the letter was mislaid? Or not sent to the post as it ought? Aunt and Uncle are no more to blame than us.”
“Perhaps not,” Lydia noted, her arms crossing as Mary’s had. “Though given that we only would have received it four days ago at best–if they wrote it five ago–to send Papa away without waiting longer was… It was…” bursting into tears as her arms fell to her side, Lydia’s body shook.
Jane’s wide eyes torn between Lydia and Mary, the latter nudged Jane toward the younger.
“Girls,” Aunt Gardiner worried, eyes glistening as she made her way to Lydia’s side, “I am–we are–repentant. I… We never considered some delay. Your father did not appear worried; it may please you to know his spirits were high. He left each of you a letter, and wanted us to remind you all how much he cares for you.”
At their aunt’s words the room grew silent, and the warmth of the fire, once so comforting, became stifling to Elizabeth. A walk up to Oakam Hill, or simply through the fields of Longbourn, called to her, though she had no way to answer.
“Your letter,” Elizabeth began at last, her voice deafening in the silence, “In it you mentioned that Father should go to a warmer clime for his health. You never mentioned how long that absence might be?”
Face falling, Aunt Gardiner turned toward her husband, a silent plea for him to give answer laced in her eyes.
“The physicians were not all in agreement on that matter. Two were adamant it would prove permanent… the third that one to three years might be enough to see him well. Your father is to have another physician once he reaches Florence; perhaps their opinion might balance out the others or give favour to one. Either way, he promised to write as soon as he arrives.”
“So long?” Elizabeth murmured.
“How ever are we to take on such an expense?” Jane questioned, Elizabeth staring at her sister in equal parts awe and dismay.
That Jane of all her sisters would think of finances at a time such as this?
“Let that one worry leave you; your aunt and I decided some days past that we would see to his expenses abroad. My dear sister would have wished it.”
“The cost… are you certain you can afford it?” Jane worried, her usual caring nature soothing Elizabeth’s unfounded worries, though bringing forth new ones for her aunt and uncle.
“Do not fret. I am well able to manage such an expense. All shall be well,” Mr. Gardiner said before turning toward a maid. “It seems your rooms are readied. Please, worry yourselves no more. You have had a hard journey.”
Elizabeth nodding as he left them in the care of their aunt, the girls followed where she led, the eldest two given one room, the next two another, while Lydia found herself sharing a bed with her two young cousins.
Staring up at the ceiling as she and Jane, nestled in their shared bed, each fought sleep, Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut as they began to water.
Absurd. All of this was absurd! Once before she had heard of a letter having been mislaid. Once. That was all. And the second time such an occurrence became known… it was at the expense of their one solace. Of seeing Father.
Would they ever see him again? And if so, would it have to be abroad? Why could things not remain the same?! Why? Father lived; yet, after having gotten him back from his study, they had lost him again. Or as well as lost. And there was nothing any of them might do this time to rectify it.
Nothing.
