“Some time ago. It was heavy work.” He sighed and then raised the tenor of his voice. “I then took my exercise in the form of a walk. And you?”
“I rode.”
“Now what? Lord, how long can a day be?”
“At Rosings? Long indeed,” I said. “I have spent the last hour trying to decide what to do for Georgiana’s birthday, and after what feels like a week of hard thinking, I have come up with nothing.”
“Oh.”
“If I had the means, I would buy her a sprinkling of friends,” I said.
“That would solve myriad ills. But perhaps she will form many new acquaintances during her presentation.”
“Are you suggesting a host of acquaintances can stand in for one friend?”
“She would at least be occupied.”
“And quite likely more miserable than ever.”
“How so?”
“Where else than in a crowd of people far gayer than you might you feel loneliest?”
He sat beside me considering this, and we fell silent, for he could not disagree. Still, I could see that he too was thinking what I was thinking—therewereladies with whom she couldfeel comfortable, who would entice her to smile more often. I changed the subject abruptly.
“To whom did you write?”
“I sent an express requesting the casualty lists.”
It was then my turn to reply, “Oh.”
After a pause he said, “We have become morose. Perhaps we ought to venture into Hunsford this evening.”
After a longer, much heavier pause, I said, “We ought to do so, certainly. But perhaps we should await news from your regiment.”
CHAPTER 5
My cousin reluctantly agreed to my veiled suggestion that we defer a visit to the local tavern until we had cause to properly drown our sorrows.
This restraint, however, meant we had little to do other than present ourselves to be of service to Lady Catherine at various times throughout the day. It was true that time at Rosings Park crept along most frustratingly, and suffering from such an inhibition of our inclinations to be anywhere else, we persevered. Like two weary elders, we proceeded through the following few days, one of which was Sunday.
We met the party from the Hunsford parsonage at church, dined with them afterwards, and bade farewell to Sir William Lucas. Lady Catherine was in peak form throughout, instructing the gentleman where to change horses, and since he meant to stay in town for a day before returning home, she also told him what shops to visit and even what he should eat. His young daughter shrank behind her older sister and became invisible to Lady Catherine, and since presumably, Mrs Collins’s life had been mined for opportunities in which to meddle, my aunt turned upon her next target—Mrs Collins’s friend.
We endured her cries of, ‘No governess!’ and ‘Out! All at once?’ and ‘Upon my word. You have decided opinions for so young a person. Pray, how old are you?’
Fitzwilliam, sitting across the table, darted a look at me ripe with concern for a young lady subjected to such ungracious treatment. I, not sharing his anxieties on her behalf, sipped my wine before filling Anne’s half-empty glass. Lady Catherine would discover for herself that rather than being daunted by her presumption, some persons would likely find it invigorating.
Later, having retreated to my room as was our habit, Fitzwilliam said, “I must say, I have never seen anyone so well equipped to flick away our aunt’s provocations.”
Perhaps I had partaken of one too many fingers of brandy, for I replied in a drawl, “Who do you mean? Miss Maria Lucas?”
He chuckled. “You know to whom I refer, but if you wish to hear her name?—”
“Thatlady needs no chivalry, Cousin,” I said.
“No. I daresay she does not. She seems to have a ready supply of her own. If only she had a fortune.”
What ensued was a mighty struggle within me to decline the invitation to canvass the topic ofherone word further.
