Longbourn

Longbourn by Jo Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Longbourn by Jo Baker Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jo Baker
Tags: Fiction, Literary, Romance, Historical, Classics, Regency
slipped through the side gate and turned up the lane; birds hopped and peeped in the hedgerows. She ducked into blue-black woods, and then back out into the starry morning. The sleeves hung low over her hands; she tugged up the collar and dipped her face into it; the old velvet smelt musty. She came to where the lane crested the hill, and met the drovers’ road.
    The drovers’ road was ancient. It swept along the ridge, and was not surfaced or shaped like modern roads were, with their gravel and their ditches. The drovers’ road was just a ribbon of grass worn short by the passing of the herds. The openness, the prospect here were striking; you could see steeples, villages, woods and copses miles away, and the smooth distance of far hills. And she knew that if she just turned that way, and kept on walking long enough, she’d end up at the first city of all the world, and that in itself was a kind of miracle. London was everything that could be imagined; and plenty more, no doubt, that as yet could not.
    She wrapped her arms around herself. A curlew cried. The sun nudged itself up above the hills, flushing the blue morning through with orange. A sheep called; a lamb replied. Shadows reeled out like ribbon; there was green now in the meadows and on the trees. Somewhere, off down the valley, a cockerel crew, and there was a whiff of woodsmoke on the air. And at Longbourn the kettle should be filled and put on to heat because soon enough everybody would need a cup of tea. And she could hardly expect the pixie, however helpful he might be, to think of that.
    As she made her way back down the lane, the house was still dark, its windows glassy and blank. A few sheets hung on the line; the linen was a white flicker through the hedgerow’s weave. And she felt a little inward shift: she saw herself standing down there where the washing lines were slung, saw the flicker of movement that she would be making now, as she passed behind the hedge.
    It hadn’t been a scotchman, of course, she saw that now: it had been James Smith.
    He must have been coming down from the drovers’ road that day, just as she was now. That noise from the stables that evening: that had been him too, sneaking in, honey-talking the horses, like he honey-talked everybody—finding himself a nice warm spot, and bedding down for the night. And in the morning he had somehow contrived to see Mr. B. before anybody had seen him. Why the master had been persuaded to employ him in such circumstances, Sarah had already conjured: it was a matter of economy, no doubt; a bargain so tempting that Mr. Bennet could not bring himself to refuse it.
    But the thing was: if he had come down from the drovers’ road, he hadn’t come from that house out past Ashworth like he’d said, or fromthe farm over the far hills. He could have come from anywhere. He could have come from London. From half a world away.
    The kitchen glowed with firelight when she glanced in through the window; Polly was still asleep, head on folded arms. Sarah could hear Mr. Smith moving around in the stables; she should really just go indoors, wake Polly, and get started on their day. But instead she crossed to the stables, and stood on the threshold, looking in at the warm scene there, lit by a hanging lantern. He was rubbing down the mare with a currycomb, and seemed absorbed and peaceful. The horse noticed the newcomer first, and swung her head round to fix a big soft eye on Sarah, buffeting James and making him stumble back and laugh, and then glance round to follow the horse’s look, his face closing when he saw her, like a box.
    “Thank you,” she said, shifting on her cold feet, her arms wrapped tight around her. “For doing all that work this morning, I mean.”
    He turned back to the brushing. “That’s all right.”
    “It’s mine—and Polly’s, really, but she finds it hard to wake up early. So.”
    “I was awake anyway. I like to keep busy.”
    He did not so much as glance at her.
    She

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