The Elizabeth Papers by Jenetta James Read Free Book Online Page B

observed her in that uncomfortable exchange. She had watched that collector stalk out of the door and down the street, and although she was glad to see the back of him, she recalled how he had fixed her with his eyes, and she couldn’t get it out of her head. His hand had brushed hers as she had handed him her card, and the memory of it stung her between the eyes. Even now, when he was long gone, she felt unbalanced by it.
    “Erm, I’m not sure, Auntie. I’ve never met him before.”
    “Really? I thought you might know him.”
    “No, never met him before.” It was the truth, and yet it felt like a lie. She knew that she was blushing to think of it. “I’m glad he’s gone though. He seemed really, really arrogant.”
    “Nice looking though, isn’t he? And so tall…”

Chapter 6
    April 2, 1820, Pemberley
    My sister Lydia has been our guest these three weeks, and already she has made me most uneasy. I remind myself that, although she is foolish, she is also young and widowed, and I love her. I also love my husband, who is not at all foolish but in certain circumstances can be irritable. Balancing the two characters is a task to which, I believe, no woman can be the equal. Only this morning, Fitzwilliam and I were awakened with a shriek through the wall from Lydia’s room.
    “Well, if that is the best that Lizzy can do, then I shall have to speak with her! She cannot expect me to wear such a dreary thing. She simply cannot. It is not fair. And anyway, in case you had not noticed, I am just as blessed about the chest as my sister, so there is no need for that dreadful, little panel…”
    My blood pumped with embarrassment to hear her breathy protests from the next room. Beside me, Fitzwilliam’s hand reached for his forehead and his eyes closed in exasperation. I had already regretted installing Lydia in the room next door to my own. It had been in my mind that the view of the lake might soothe her, but alas, it had not. I had considered asking the servants to move her, but it seemed to be both ridiculous and an admission of defeat. It is for Lydia to behave reasonably, even in her grief. It is not for me to place her in isolation in order that we are not disturbed by her histrionics. Her voice whined away from behind the wall, and I could bear it no longer.
    “Elizabeth, what are you doing?” asked Fitzwilliam as I leapt out of bed and began pulling on my shawl.
    “I will go and speak with her, Fitzwilliam. I know what this is about, and I cannot have her being so rude to the servants or waking us with her dramatics. It is only the next-door room, and she is my sister. She has seen me in my nightclothes before.”
    I knew that he was about to protest further but did not wait to hear it. His annoyance with me for leaving the chamber undressed and with my hair down was as nothing to the annoyance that he would begin to feel towards Lydia if I could not rein her in. Hair streaming and shawl trailing, I appeared in her room. She looked me squarely in the face and put down her teacup.
    “Lizzy. There you are. Now, I cannot wear that thing for dinner this evening. What will Lord and Lady Matlock think? It is so dreary, and I am meeting them for the first time. You just cannot—”
    “Lydia, keep your voice down. What are you doing awake at this hour? You have roused Fitzwilliam and me with all this nonsense—now be quiet.”
    To this, she merely smirked.
    “Well, I could not sleep, and I am not that loud. You must have particularly fine hearing. Anyway, if your husband still keeps to your bed after all these years, Lizzy…well, you should have nothing to complain of.” She laughed and glanced at the maid, Milly, who blushed and looked at her feet.
    “Thank you, Milly. That will be all.”
    I believe the poor girl was more than grateful to be dismissed.
    “Well, there was no need for that, Lizzy. Why I am sure that the whole staff knows—”
    “Lydia, that is enough! If you wake me again with these morning