Chapter Thirteen

Elizabeth

10 th February 1812

E lizabeth lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Unfortunately, this was nothing new. For the past fortnight, she had found herself sleepless quite often, her thoughts consumed by Georgie.

The two of them had grown closer these past few days, closer than perhaps they ought. Her father had taken them fishing as she’d promised Georgie—and as expected, he’d turned out to be an excellent fisherman. In addition, he’d shown himself a capable hunter and knowledgeable when it came to the various trees and around the estate. She’d established this on one of their many walks. Indeed, she had found reasons to spend time with him, primarily by offering to help her father as they attempted to tidy Longbourn’s ledgers. Thus, she had found herself spending hours poring over receipts, letters from tenants, and bills to match them to the ledger.

It was not that her father was a bad landowner, but since his previous steward had retired, he had taken care of the ledger himself—and to say he did not have a system in place was an understatement. Mr Cook, his new steward was tackling the more recent transactions, but her father had felt it was his duty to sort out his own mess, rather than give the man extra work. Georgie had proven himself capable of sorting through the ledger, though much of the time they spent working together was taken up by conversation unrelated to the task at hand.

Georgie had a wonderful sense of humour and they shared a similar taste in literature. Likewise, they bonded over their shared love of sweet foods and just yesterday they had compiled a list of the perfect puddings. She smiled as she thought of it now. Georgie was a delightful man, and she found him entering her thoughts many times throughout the day. Yet it was not merely their commonalities that occupied her, there was another question that bothered her.

Who was he really? The question had been gnawing at her since his arrival, but more and more, she found herself worrying about what would happen if he recovered his memory and left. Or if he never remembered anything at all. His life would have to go on one way or another and soon it would lead him away from Longbourn, that she knew—and dreaded.

Chiding herself, Elizabeth rolled over and sighed. No good could come from these thoughts. It was foolish to dwell on someone whose past was a mystery, someone who would disappear from her life as quickly as he had arrived.

She pulled the blanket up to her chin, shivering. The room was cold, the February chill seeping through the walls. Elizabeth groaned, aware she would not get any rest. She would need to stoke the fire in her room if she had any hope of getting warm.

Thus, she swung her feet out of bed, wincing as the icy floor bit at her toes. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she walked towards the fireplace, glancing out of the window as she passed. The glass was frosted over, delicate patterns of ice making it difficult to see outside. She rubbed a small circle clear and peered through.

To her surprise, she saw Georgie sitting on a bench in the garden, bathed in the cold, silvery light of the moon. He was hunched over. What was he doing out there at this hour?

Curiosity and concern propelled her into action. She quickly donned her thickest redingote, picked up her woollen shawl, and slipped on her boots.

As she made her way through the silent house and out into the garden, the cold air stole her breath, and she pulled her shawl tighter around her. Outside, her breath became visible at once as she pressed on into the garden. Something had to be wrong if he was sitting alone here in the cold.

When she approached him, he was seated with his legs pulled up on the bench, his arms crossed on his knees, and his head pointed skyward. She cleared her throat to announce herself, so as not to startle him.

He looked up at once and rose to his feet. “Elizabeth, is something the matter?”

“No, nothing. I could not sleep. I happened to look out of the window and saw you, so I thought I would ask if something was the matter with you.”

He smiled, and inside, her heart leaped. “It seems we are both sleepless tonight. What kept you up?”

She took a deep breath. “Well, it started with my missing my sister, as per usual. Jane and I have always been so close, and now that she is in London for a few weeks, I miss her terribly. Then it occurred to me that it is Mary’s birthday next week, and I have not got her a present yet. And then my thoughts simply wandered to the past family celebrations…” She shrugged, leaving out the part where she had spent a long while thinking about nothing but him. “You?”

“I do wish that I could be kept awake by thoughts of my past. Although, in a way, I am. I am kept awake imagining what my past might have been like.”

“I beg your pardon, it was insensitive of me to talk about my past when you…” She waved her hand.

“Please, you need not apologise. My lack of memories does not constitute a need for you to suppress yours. Anyhow, I have found that not knowing who I am allows my imagination to run rather wild. For instance, I just imagined myself a member of the royal family, staring at the starry sky at Whitehall, thinking that all of this could be mine one day.” He chuckled, and she found herself giggling as well.

“I suppose there is something to be said about being able to make up one’s past. Although I do not think I should like to be a member of the royal family. There is too much scrutiny attached to it. Besides, if you look at our not too long-ago history, women do not always fare well.”

“Indeed, I think that could be said about the current royal family and its women,” he said and scoffed. “You see? I know things about our royal family, but nothing about my own.” He pressed his lips together, and she noticed a subtle change in his demeanour.

“You seem troubled, Georgie. Are you certain there is nothing else keeping you awake?” she asked, knowing that she should not pry into his personal matters, but unable to help herself.

“There is. I have flashes of memories. I cannot explain it. Perhaps they are not even memories, for they do not tell me anything about who I was. For instance, when I first woke up, I looked at your dressing table, and suddenly recalled seeing a similar table, but neat and tidy, with carefully arranged pots and brushes all in rows…”

A giggle escaped her. “So not mine at all. Mine is always rather in disarray.”

“I noticed,” he replied with a warm smile. “It was not yours, but I do not know whose it was. Then another day, I saw the image of a young woman with blonde hair, skipping away from me.”

She straightened at this, pulling her shoulders back and holding her head high. Why was she alarmed at the mention of his remembering a woman? Surely, there were all manner of women in his past—mothers, grandmothers, sisters, and yes, perhaps someone more romantic as well. It should not bother her, yet it did.

“Do you know who she was?” she asked.

He shrugged and buried his hands in his pockets. “No. I had thought perhaps a sister, but I cannot know. I wish I did.”

Elizabeth shivered as a gust of wind whipped through the garden. Instantly, he took a step towards her.

“You are not dressed for being out of doors,” he said, and offered his coat, placing it carefully around her shoulders. His nearness sent a warm shiver through her, and she looked up at him. Momentarily, their eyes met, and she felt his breath rush across her cheeks.

“Now you will be cold,” she said breathlessly.

“I do not mind. Now that you are more comfortable, will you sit with me?”

“Perhaps we ought to sit over yonder, near the stable, it may offer us some shelter,” she said although she had to admit his warm coat had already improved her condition, though she worried now about his. He gave a nod and together, they made their way to the stable and took their seats on a bench where the grooms usually took their lunches. Once settled, he turned to her.

“Pray, if you could be anything or anyone, what would you be?” he asked and took a step away from her.

Elizabeth was aware how irregular it was to be sitting outside alone with him, but she could not bring herself to care. There was nowhere she would rather be in this moment.

“If I could be anything, I imagine I would be a sailor. I would like to see the world. When we visit London, I love visiting the shops with spices and teas and herbs I have never seen before, languages that I cannot read, people who have the most wondrous stories to tell about life in faraway lands. I would love to see those lands. If I could, I would visit them all.”

“That sounds enticing. I imagine I have never been to any of those faraway lands either. Even if I was a member of the royal family, it seems unlikely I would have travelled that far. There is some appeal to it, these faraway lands. It does not matter that I do not remember who I was. I could be anyone. We both could.” He tapped her arm with his elbow in a conspiratorial manner. “We could visit one of these faraway lands together. We could go right now. We could run away to the seaside, board a ship and see where it takes us.” He said this with a glint of longing in his eyes.

“Ah, but then who would strain to milk already milked cows to provide amusement for my father?” she said and he let out a burst of laughter.

“That is true,” he said before growing serious again. “If you could visit any country in the world, where would you go first?”

Elizabeth thought for a moment, then smiled. “I think I would visit Italy. My friend Charlotte, the one who is now married to my cousin, once travelled there and told the most wonderful stories about it. She described the beauty of the countryside, the history that seemed to linger in every corner, and the friendliness of the people.”

Georgie nodded enthusiastically. “Italy sounds splendid. One of the books I found in your father’s library is set in Rome. The descriptions were so vivid, I almost felt as if I were walking through the ancient streets myself. I wish I could see Rome. Perhaps I did at some point…”

Elizabeth hesitated, watching him carefully. His gaze was far away, lost in the possibility of memories just out of reach. She took a deep breath and asked a question that had been gnawing at her. “Georgie, do you think you might be married?” They’d briefly spoken about this topic once before but never in detail, and never with as much tension in the air between them.

He was taken aback, and so was she for having asked it. The silence that followed seemed to thicken the air around them. Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I am sorry, I should not have asked that.”

Georgie shook his head, his expression thoughtful. “No, you were right to ask. I do wonder about it myself, but… I do not think so. Because…” He paused, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge a stubborn thought.

Elizabeth leaned in slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What is it you want to say?”

He hesitated again, then looked into her eyes, his gaze intense. “I hope I do not have a wife because I have grown rather fond of another young lady, and it would make things rather awkward.”

Elizabeth felt a rush of heat despite the cold night air. She wondered if she was the young lady that he spoke of, and the way he looked at her made her believe it might be so. Though perhaps she was mistaken. She felt suddenly awkward and giggled nervously. “Yes, it would indeed make things a bit strange.”

Georgie nodded, taking a step back as if sensing her discomfort. “I should not have said that. It is not fair. I am not even sure why I said it.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Finally, Elizabeth stood up, shrugged off his coat and instantly shivered again.

“It is cold, and I need to go inside,” she said, handing him back his coat.

He rose at once, taking his coat though as he did, their hands touched, she gasped at the spark she felt, and he jerked his hand away, clearly feeling the same.

In that moment, it became clear to her that he had been talking about her. She had suspected it of course; it had been almost too clear but she had not been certain. Now she was. And she did not know how to react or what to say. Thus, she rushed back to the house, more confused than ever, her heart pounding so hard she felt it in her blood.