Mrs. Madeline Gardiner
If Elizabeth could be half the woman her aunt was, she would be pleased. She would cherish this letter, reading it repeatedly until they arrived in Rome.
Setting the missive aside, she opened the second letter. It was from Jane.
Dear Lizzy,
I hope that you are enjoying the early stages of your grand escapade. If I have timed this properly, you should have this prior to your departure.
Life at Netherfield continues peacefully. Charles is the best husband imaginable. Lizzy, he is the kindest, sweetest man.
I must share news of our sisters, as I know you will be eager to know of their progress. Miss Peabody insists all students write a proper letter to their family or guardians each week. Our first letters from Lydia, Kitty, and Mary arrived four days after your departure from Meryton.
Lydia’s letter overflowed with dramatic pleas for rescue from what she termed her ‘torment’ at the academy. She could not comprehend why she must learn grace, studiousness, or proper deportment when, as she reminded them, her future as an officer’s wife required only knowledge of the waltz and how to look charming on the arm of a man in regimentals. The letter would have been amusing had it not been so earnest in its desperation.
Kitty and Mary present an entirely different picture. Kitty expressed excitement about her studies of literature and languages. Mary has found a kindred spirit among the more scholarly girls and writes enthusiastically that she expects to learn a great deal. Both seem to be on the verge of discovering aspects of themselves that were overshadowed by Lydia’s more forceful personality.
I pray that, with time and patience, even our youngest sister may come to appreciate the opportunities presented to her, though I confess to being less optimistic on this point than Papa suggested we should be.
Mother spent the first two days floundering at Longbourn with no daughters to promote or matrimonial schemes to pursue. On the third day, she threw herself into mastering her pony cart with remarkable determination. After two days, her daily drives to see us at Netherfield no longer satisfied an adventurous spirit that I did not know she possessed. (Imagine having the freedom of a pony cart and few responsibilities, and you will understand how Mama feels.) I leave you, dear Lizzy, to picture our Mama speeding down our country lanes with the brim of her bonnet bent back and a smile on her lips.
Although these changes in our family are wonderful, I beg that you remain the lovely sister who brings everyone such joy.
With all my love and hopes for your continued safety,
Your devoted sister,
Jane
Elizabeth laughed. She looked forward to seeing the changes her family members were undergoing in their new circumstances. The newfound confidence of Mary, Kitty, and their mother made the decision to join the expedition seem even wiser.
She sighed as she unfolded the note from her youngest sister. It was obvious to everyone except Lydia that she was in dire need of instruction. Much more so than Mary or Kitty. The letter’s contents proved to be exactly as Elizabeth expected.
Lizzy,
Help me escape this prison! Miss Peabody hates me! And I hate her!
Save me immediately!
Your suffering sister,
Lydia
Elizabeth folded and stored each letter. She loved her sisters and mother dearly but was without the power to help or protect them, even from themselves. They were now on their own, as she was.
8
The fire crackled in the grate in Darcy’s study at his London house as he spread the large Mediterranean map across his desk, its edges weighted down with books to prevent it from curling. The candlelight flickered across the coastlines of Spain, France, Italy, the Holy Lands, and the mysterious shores of North Africa. Richard stood beside him, also studying the routes they would soon traverse.
“Strange to think that in less than twelve hours, we shall board theMeridian,bound for these very waters,” his cousin mused. Tracing from Gibraltar to Rome with his finger, he said, “I confess, Darcy. The prospect of traveling as a civilian feels like putting on a costume for a masquerade.”
Darcy looked up from where he was marking potential ports along the coastlines. “Your orders are clear. You are to be nothing more than a gentleman interested in trade opportunities.”
Richard moved to his traveling trunk, which lay open beside the window. He lifted a folded military coat, its brass buttons catching the firelight. “Though I have tucked this into my provisions, just in case.”
“Richard, If the French board us, that uniform could be your death sentence. Enemy officers rarely show mercy toward captured British military personnel.”
His cousin’s jaw set with familiar stubbornness as he wrapped the coat in oiled cloth. “There may come a time, Darcy, when I need to be exactly who I am—a loyal supporter of the Crown and a colonel in His Majesty’s army. I will not skulk about the Mediterranean claiming to be someone I am not if the situation demands otherwise.”
