“I shall not believe you,” objected his sister. “Even the second son of an English earl must have his means, and to have been given such a prestigious appointment! He must be very well connected.”
“Mother,” Jane reasoned, “I doubt they give the horse buyers much honour within the regiment. I think if you were to ask him, he would much prefer to be commanding soldiers.”
Mrs Bennet would not be deterred. “But that is so dangerous! No, surely, the preferred appointments are ones such as these, where a colonel may still wear his uniform and serve his country in safety.”
“Now, Fanny,” Mr Gardiner asserted with finality, “you may put such notions aside. English soldiers do not come to the American frontier in search of a wife. If they entertain feminine companionship at all, it is not done with regard to the dignity of the lady. While under my roof, I will not allow—”
He never finished his statement, for at that moment, the door opened behind him. Elizabeth’s entry might have passed quietly enough, had her mother not determined to enlist her aid against her uncle. Apart from Jane, who had already mildly disagreed with her, Elizabeth was the only one of her daughters who had ever proved capable of dissuading Mr Gardiner from his course.
“Lizzy!” she bubbled. “Oh, Lizzy, did you see all the officers just come from the train?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, I heard something about that. I think most of them had already gone off to the corrals by the time I returned. Oh, Jane, I knew you would like that book! Tell me, how far have you come?”
Jane held up the book with a faintly wan expression. “Five chapters worth of flowery prose. You said it gets better?”
“Oh yes, most assuredly.”
“Lizzy!” interrupted her mother. “You must hear all about the new officers! Did you know that Colonel Marcus is to be replaced?”
“I believe it was his replacement I encountered on the way home. Rather high-handed, if I do say so. Oh, Uncle Edward, Papa said he needs a new order of shoes and nails for the remounts.”
“I will see he gets them, Lizzy.” He smiled, a twinkling expression of victory, and patted his niece on the shoulder. “Mary and Lydia, I believe it is your turn to help your aunt in the store this afternoon. Run along, girls, for she has several new bolts of fabric to sort and shelve.”
Mary stood placidly enough, but Lydia began to whimper. As the youngest daughter of Thomas Bennet, former Angus rancher, one would naturally expect that she had encountered her share of work. However, by the time of Lydia’s birth, the ranch had known several years of relative prosperity. All had been comfortable indeed before that last year when sickness had struck down the Bennet herds and forced the family into insurmountable debt. Lydia’s days of hard labour had been short enough, and she felt, with all the more resentment, the demands her uncle placed upon her in exchange for her keep.
An instant after expressing her typical reluctance, however, a new thought came to her. She flushed up, her eyes and cheeks bright, and turned to a little looking-glass at the end of the room to see that her hair fell as she liked it.
“I believe,” Uncle Gardiner commented drily, “that the British have all gone on to their duties with the horses, Lydia.”
“Uncle—” she came near, her tones serious and wheedling—“do you not think I should wear my hair up, as do Jane and Lizzy? It would look so much better for working behind the counter. I think I could sell twice the fabric and notions to the lady customers if I looked the part.”
“When you turn seventeen, and not a day before. Off with you, now!”
Lydia scowled slightly, then turned to give herself one last look in the glass. She tilted her head, pressed back her shoulders, and gave a sharp tug at the back of her blouse to wrap it more snugly into her skirts.
Uncle Gardiner cleared his throat.
Lydia sighed loudly and departed with Mary.
“Lizzy, how was Papa today?” enquired Jane.
“Oh, I do wish you would not ride out to that horrid place alone!” Mrs Bennet lamented. “Goodness knows what might befall you in that horse camp.”
“I am always with Papa,” Elizabeth objected. “He is well today, by the way. You know he was kicked last week, but he is mending well enough.”
“Lizzy,” Uncle Gardiner sighed, “I fear your mother is right. There are simply too many strange men about town now. I do not think you should be riding alone—no, not even with one of your sisters. Perhaps Billy Collins can ride with you. I do not think any will trouble you so long as you have a man with you.”
Elizabeth groaned.Not her cousin!Billy could scarcely sit a horse without being strapped to the saddle, and nobody prattled such banalities! “What of John Lucas, Uncle? We would be safe with him, I am sure.”
“John Lucas works for Mr Drysdale now and will be wanted at the rail yard. I can spare Billy well enough.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes toward Jane, finding a sympathetic gaze awaiting her. Uncle could spare their cousin so well because Billy was essentially worthless, and everyone knew it—save for Billy. That Uncle Gardiner kept their cousin employed was more a testament to his generosity than any merit on Billy’s part.
“Come, Lizzy,” soothed their uncle. “I know you will not argue with me. You heard what happened with Mary King—why, it makes my blood boil just to think of it! I cannot bear for such to befall you on your visits to your father.”
Elizabeth was still pouting, but only faintly. In a last half-hearted objection, she offered, “Mary King was walking alone after dark, Uncle Edward. I am mounted, during the day.”
Her uncle only lifted a brow, shaking his head. Dearly as she loved him, she could do little but concede.
