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I smirk. “Someone’s touchy about their driving,” I reply in sing-song.
He makes a grumbling sound. “I just need to get a feel for it,” he mutters, wrenching the gears again as he points us to the main road. “And you’re one to talk, you don’t even know how to drive manual.”
“How do you know?” I retort. “I could have learned.”
“Did you?”
“Well… No.” I admit.
“Then quit your yammering and figure out where we’re going.”
“You’re very cranky,” I note sweetly. “Is your blood sugar running low again? Do you need another snack?”
Fraser tears his gaze from the road and gives me a dark look. “You know, only one of us actually needs to get to Glasgow…”
“OK, OK!” I grin. “Navigating now.”
I turn my attention to my map app, and program in the address we got from Clemmie to check the route. “It’s about a six-hour drive,” I report. “Wow, England really is a small country. We’ll be in Scotland by teatime.”
Fraser makes a harrumphing noise. Clearly, traffic-related small talk isn’t on the agenda.
Fine then.
I zoom in, studying our path. I already saved a bunch of destinations on my ‘to go’ list before the trip, historical sites and places of literary interest to try and visit while I’m here. Our driving route takes us close to one of my pins, so I click on it to check.
“Oh my God!” I yelp in excitement.
“What now?” Fraser sighs.
“Nothing,” I blurt quickly. “Just, umm, a cute text. A dog, on a bicycle.”
He snorts, eyes fixed on the road again, while I try to restrain my delight.
Chatsworth House!
According to the map, our drive north takes us within spitting distance of the most iconic Austen filming location ever. The historic stately home was used as Pemberley in the 2005Pride & Prejudicemovie, and a ton of other historical adaptations too, and has been one of my dream tourist destinations for years.
And, by my estimations, it’s only a half-hour detour from our route…
I sneak a look over at Fraser. The way he’s brooding over our minor delay already tells me there’s no way on earth he’ll agree to pause our trip and take a look.
But if he doesn’t actually know that’s where we’re going…
I quickly update our destination with the detour, then sit back. “Lovely day, isn’t it?” I say brightly. “And the scenery here is so pretty. How does that poem go, ‘England’s green and pleasant land’?”
“It’s by Blake,” Fraser replies curtly. “And is actually about the destruction wrought by the Industrial age.” He turns the ancient radio on to a Top 40 station.
“Ooh, Lizzo, turn it up,” I say happily.
He shuts it off instead. “Why don’t we enjoy the drive… in silence?”
“Fine with me,” I beam. His grumbling isn’t going to spoil my good mood now. We’re on the road and will be with Hugo soon enough. Why not enjoy the scenic tour of England while I can?
We driveanother couple of hours in (relatively) pleasant silence through the English countryside. “Take the next right,” I tell Fraser brightly, as we near the turn for Chatsworth.
“Off the motorway?” he frowns.
“That’s what Siri says,” I give an innocent smile. “Maybe there’s a traffic jam, or construction work ahead.”
