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MARY’S LETTER ARRIVED the day Elizabeth packed for Bryden. Maria insisted upon driving Elizabeth back home, as Henry Thorne decided to remain in London to assist with the book sales. He promised to take any books back to Vane Park that she wished to store and for as long as she wished. They waited in the foyer for Maria to arrive with the carriage.
Aunt Cass cried all morning, and it took both Alice and Susan’s assurances that they would not leave her before she finally accepted that she would not be left alone.
“I have grown so used to having you girls around. How shall I part from you?”
“Mrs. Spencer, I am certain that my brother would be thrilled if you wrote to him and asked if I could remain here for some time as a companion. Thrilled would be the proper word for it, too,” Alice said. “And I have never felt so free in my life as I have had these days.”
Susan sniffled and wept quietly, which brought on a coughing fit. “I am very much at your disposal, Mrs. Spencer.”
“Oh you girls!” Aunt Cass wrapped her arms around both of them, and motioned for Elizabeth to join them.
Elizabeth’s trunks were packed on the back of the carriage. The false bottom had fit it perfectly. Her writing desk was neatly placed on the floor inside the carriage, and her little table neatly folded perfectly alongside it out of way.
Elizabeth had sent Sally out to purchase her a small, used trunk that was light enough for her to carry, but that could withstand the trials and tribulations of travel. Sally returned with a perfect little trunk that looked brand new for the surprisingly low cost of only a shilling.
It could fit on her lap inside the carriage, so she would not have it out of her sight, or even under her feet. She also moved her desk’s secret wooden box, with her fifty pounds, into her new trunk. She did not trust that much money to be sat upon the back of the carriage.
Elizabeth gave Sally a one-pound note as a tip. Little Tom got two shillings. The twins, who’d moved into the house to assist with the two young ladies, got a shilling each. She had never been able to afford such extravagance before, having always despaired about how little she could leave the servants at Ashbrook whenever she went to stay with Mary. However, she could afford it this time, and so she would with no regrets.
“Ladies, I promise I will write as soon as I arrive. I suspect I will be needed some days to aid Isabella, but then I shall begin on my studies. If you would be so kind, Susan, would you write to me an outline of study? I must start somewhere. And Alice? Would you so kindly continue going through the library? I am so sorry to leave this house without having finished the task.”
“I am desperate to finish the drawing room!” Alice exclaimed. “Susan has already offered to assist me with the inventory list and we will make copies, of course, just as Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Thorne had done. And Mr. Thorne, of course, will continue to help with the sale of the books. I am certain it will all turn out well.”
“Indeed, Elizabeth. Do not worry,” Susan said. “We will take care of the rest of the business here in town.”
“Thank you so much.”
There was a knock at the door and the ladies all began their hurried goodbyes. Elizabeth hugged them all a final time, and then dashed for the carriage. Once inside, Elizabeth greeted Maria and placed her small trunk on the seat next to her. They made light chatter while the trunks were loaded. Then, the final waves of goodbye.
“What is that?” Maria asked. “Oh. A letter from Mary. I can tell by your expression.”
“I have yet to read it. It came as I was packing.”
“Well, might as well get on with it.”
Elizabeth,
The children wish me to thank you for the sweets. Miss Hattie has been dolling them out for good behaviour.
Thank you for the letters. It was very kind of you to take some time out of your new occult studies to send me what you could. I have not read any of the letters. I do not know if I will. Still, it is comforting to know they exist if I ever wish to.
I believe I shall assist you with sorting the remainder when I return to Bryden later this summer, or Christmas if I cannot get away. As I understand from our father, your occult studies will make it difficult for you to find time for your many duties to your family, but Isabella says not to be cross with you, so I shall not.
Mary
“That was surprisingly cold, even for Mary,” Maria said.
Elizabeth folded the letter carefully and placed it inside her trunk. “Mary does not remember our mother. Her only mother was Augusta. So, she struggles with the knowledge that another woman brought her into the world who was not Augusta. Now that I think on it, that is perhaps why Augusta did not like me. Mary called her Mama. I called her Mrs. Knight, until my father put an end to that.”
“How did you ever get him to agree to you calling her Augusta?”
“My dear Maria, surely by now you have noticed I have the most displeasing of female traits. In some circles, it is called stubbornness.” Elizabeth laughed. “I, however, prefer to call it conviction of purpose.”
“That does sound nobler,” Maria said.
They were outside of London before Maria finally said, “I know about Mr. R.”
“Alice?” Elizabeth guessed.
“Henry was on Charles Street. He saw.”
“Ah.”
“How difficult was it?”
Elizabeth considered not answering her friend; Maria would understand. However, their friendship deserved the honestly. “At first, I felt the same rush of affection. But, there was a coldness about him that I never saw before. I do not know if I was blind to it, or if he had changed. The longer I stood there, the angrier I became at the very sight of him.”
“That is only to be expected. You thought you were going to marry him.”
“No, that was not the source of my anger. At least, it did not feel as though it came from there.”
“Then where?”
“It was as thought my heart was angry for ever having loved him.” She smiled at Maria. “I believe whatever was there in my heart for him is now gone forever. I am surprised by the relief that gives me.”
*****
ELIZABETH’S ARRIVAL home was not as joyous as it should have been. Cassandra grasped her in a grip of the suffering. Thea was sullen. G was loud and abrasive. Isabella looked pale and tired, but was in excellent spirits all the same. Mrs. Taylor stayed at the rectory for three more days, to allow Elizabeth the opportunity to settle in. Then, she accepted an invitation to return to London with Maria.
Her father was cold to her and avoided her company whenever possible. He frequently was away all day, and often did not return from his many visits about the parish until well into the evening. He was not at home for one family dinner.
Charles, likewise, was nowhere to be seen. He left word that he and his father decided to travel to Ashbrook.
“Something about asking Mr. Fitzharding for assistance with Oxford,” Isabella said.
Elizabeth was seated in the drawing room, in the small side chair. Isabella was propped up on pillows on the sofa. “My father is angry, isn’t he?”
“No, I would not call it anger. It was more embarrassment that he and your brother were duped by those men. And that the person who saw through them...”
“Was me,” Elizabeth finished.
“They will come around.” Isabella looked about the room, ensuring they were alone. “Elizabeth, do not tell me how much money you made from your books.”
“I...why not?”
Isabella chose her words carefully. “Most likely, we will have to hire a nurse to help care for me if my condition worsens. Charles wishes to return to Oxford. Cassandra is out in society now and we need to spend money on her clothes and dresses. And your father is leaning toward letting Thea and G as well, since that might be the only way to get any peace around here. So, more dresses and more hats, and all of that.”
“Ah.”
“Please take no offense in what I am about to say, but it is clear that you will not be marrying.”
“I will not. Especially not at my age and with a much younger, prettier sister.”
Isabella nodded, still choosing her words carefully. “Charles may have let it slip that you will have made more money than any of us were expecting while in London. He said something about it being the talk of the town. Now, of course, we can dismiss most of that as idle gossip. But, you should know that there is an expectation that you will share.”
Elizabeth blew out a breath. She had known this would happen. And she had prepared for it. “Mr. Thorne is selling the remainder of my books. I gave money to you, for the girls, and to Charles, to help him. I also purchased my desk and my table, as I wished something that was mine.”
“Oh, Elizabeth, please do not think we want all your money. Not even your father said that. He simply...” Isabella sigh.
“You do not need to explain.”
“Explain what?” Mr. Knight asked, strolling into the room.
“We were...um...” Isabella stammered.
Elizabeth smiled and said, “Discussing how best to distribute my good fortune from the sale of my books that I inherited from my uncle.”
Mr. Knight’s face brightened for the first time since she had arrived in Bryden. “Oh, indeed?”
“I am unsure of the total price, of course, since Mr. Thorne has not completed the task in London. And I gave Charles five pounds in London, to help with his expenses. And the three pounds to the girls. Then, I purchased myself my desk and table, as well as a small trunk. And the writing desk for Cassandra for her birthday, but please do not say anything. It’s still in London. That leaves me with a little more than eight pounds.”
“Oh, that is disappointing. Those occult fellows made it sound like it would be more.”
“That is not all, though, Mr. Knight. There is still what is left in London,” Isabella said. She glanced at Elizabeth. “How many books are left?”
Elizabeth did not lie when she said, “I have to think. We separated the library books from my inheritance. I believe my books are three of the trunks. I provided Mr. Thorne the list, so I do not remember precisely.”
“Oh, so that should fetch us another pretty sum?” her father asked, brightened at the prospect of unexpected money.
“Yes, indeed. However, I cannot plan for that, since we do not know how long it will take to sell, or if they have to go to auction. We might not make as much that way. However, the eight pounds I have is ours to share. I simply did not know how best to distribute it, especially since I gave Charles more than the girls.”
“It is only right and proper for Charles to have it. He has Oxford to consider.”
“Is he going back?” Isabella asked.
“That is what he says. Mr. Fitzharding has agreed to cover his tuition for the final year, which is a great relief for us all.” Mr. Knight smiled at his daughter. “I must say, Elizabeth, Charles spoke rather highly of your behaviour in London.”
“That is very kind of him,” Elizabeth said.
Her father eyed her. “What happened in London? Charles was very much against going back to Oxford until he went to London. Now, he returns and begs for assistance.”
“I had understood that was what you had wished for him,” Elizabeth said.
She absolutely did not want to lie to her father’s face. More importantly, she did not know if she could. He might see through her.
“Yes, Charles gaining his ordination has always been my wish. I think he will grow into the role. And he is still young enough to handle the rigors of a curacy, and has no wife or child to support.” He did not break eye contact. “But not a day before he left for London, he’d said that he was not ready for Oxford. And yet, now he returns a changed man, with five pounds in his pocket.”
“I gave him that, Papa.”
“I know you did. Why?”
Elizabeth gulped and said, “There was no purpose. He was in town, and needed to stay some days. I had come into a little money, and felt it was better to share it with him than for him to write home and ask for more.”
Her father was not convinced. It was obvious in his stare. “Was he gambling in London?”
“I did not see him gamble, or even play cards. As I understood it, he often ate at a Sir Gregory’s house. Charles had gone to school with the gentleman’s son.”
“Are either of these men gamesters?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Truly, I do not know. I have not met either. I only know Sir Gregory’s name through my uncle’s lawyer, Mr. Grant. He is also a friend of this Sir Gregory, so he is an acquaintance of Charles’, too, I suppose.”
“And this Mr. Grant. Do you trust him?”
“Me?” Elizabeth asked. Her father had never asked her opinion on anything in her entire life.
Her father drew in a deep breath, as if he were about to swallow a bee. He glanced at Isabella, who gave him a knowing look. He took another deep breath, preparing himself for whatever horrid thing he needed to say.
“Sometime, along the path of life, my eldest daughter turned into a rather intelligent, prudent, resourceful young woman. And, so, I find myself wondering if that daughter was able to do for my son what I could not.”
Mr. Knight had never complimented Elizabeth in her entire life. Any compliment he issued was for all of his daughters, as one bunch of pretty flowers. He called Mary out by her name, of course. But never Elizabeth.
Until now.
“I did nothing but encourage him to follow what was in his heart.” Elizabeth forced a smile. “So, whatever was there, you and Augusta had instilled in him.”
He gave Isabella a final look before his shoulders sagged. “Of course. All this worry is turning me into an old woman, worrying about all of the young people in the village. Eight pounds, did you say? That is after you gave away all of your money? I saw the ribbons you brought back from London, Miss Elizabeth Knight. There is enough there for us to open our own shop in the kitchen!”
Elizabeth let out the breath she was holding when her father turned to pour himself a cup of tea. She had managed not to tell an outright lie to her father. She thought of the book and her fifty pounds. Now both would need to remain a secret.
But, for now, she knew how Henry Thorne felt when his father told him well done. For she, too, would grasp at this compliment of her father’s and hold it tight in the coming days. No doubt, she would need it.