Chapter 30

30

E lizabeth could not wait to be alone. She stretched as best she could in the crowded coach, clutching Maddie onto her lap. On her left was Charlotte, and on her right, young Edward junior, his awkward gangly limbs meaning he took up a lot more room than one would expect of an eight-year-old, even one so tall as he.

She smiled at her aunt, who had little Lilibeth on her lap, with young Stephen sandwiched between Uncle and Aunt. He was not happy that his elder brother had been permitted a window seat and he had not, and Elizabeth had taken an hour to tell a thrilling tale of pirates on the high seas to keep him entertained.

Thankfully, he was now asleep, and Elizabeth could rest her voice, and listen to some adult conversation.

Aunt and Uncle always came to Longbourn for Christmas, and Elizabeth enjoyed the holidays even more for their welcome company. But her uncle was busy in his warehouses, and he had to answer a large number of letters regarding the new music he'd published, especially the March of Hope .

He had taken her aside before he answered the letter from Mr. Darcy. "Lizzy, does he really not know I am your uncle?"

"I am sure he does not, and he is at Pemberley for Christmas, so he is not about to meet you on this visit."

He had looked at her sternly. "We need to talk to your father about this. I believe he will eventually discover about our relationship, and that may make him more suspicious about Santorio."

All those letters made it her fault that they couldn't come home earlier than today, and she had shed a few tears privately with Charlotte that they would both have to miss the Netherfield Ball, and the announcement of Jane's betrothal.

Charlotte had been practical. "Just imagine, Eliza, by the time we get back home, your mother might have calmed down a little from her effusions of joy."

Elizabeth had laughed then. "At least I am glad that Mr. Bingley seems to love Jane for herself and not just her looks."

"And he has proved himself by sending Miss Bingley away as soon as he realised she was causing Jane distress. It has meant Mrs. Hurst will have to be hostess for the ball, and I do not think she will have enjoyed it."

"True. I must make sure to compliment her on how everyone told me how good it was, even if they have not said anything." She sighed. "I abhor having had to learn to be so economical with the truth, especially about my composing."

Now they were nearly back at home, although after setting her little cousins free from the confines of the coach along with their parents, Elizabeth was going to go with Charlotte to take her home, before returning in the coach.

She wondered if Stephens would be free from other footman duties to protect her while she went for a long — a very long — walk this afternoon. That was the only thing about being in London which was difficult for her. Walking around the park was nothing to the hills and woods of home.

She took the opportunity for a private moment with Charlotte as the coach took them the mile to Lucas Lodge. "I hope we can see much of each other over Christmas; I have grown so used to having you around."

Her friend laughed. "We will, Eliza. But remember, do take the time to enjoy Jane's company. When she is married, you will perforce not be able to be so close. So see as much of her as you can. I will be here after she is wed, and will not be offended if I do not see you so much before the wedding."

Elizabeth embraced her. "You are so understanding. I am the most fortunate of women to have you as my friend."

Get along with you. We are here now, and I will need to greet my family."

Elizabeth jumped down alongside Charlotte to greet the Lucases, and supervise Charlotte's trunk being taken down. Then she climbed back in, and leaned back against the cushions, as the coach turned back towards Longbourn. She would make the most of even the six or seven minutes of solitude she would have.

Longbourn was as crowded as it always was at this time of year, and more so, with Mr. Bingley also there from dawn until dusk most days, his amiable face beaming as he followed Jane from the parlour to the stillroom, or the gardens, and engaged her in conversation whenever he could.

Elizabeth was pleased at the way he protected her sister from much of her mother's over-excitement and improbable wedding plans, and she relaxed. Although her sister's beauty had attracted Mr. Bingley's attention, it was obvious that his love for her ran deeper than that, and Elizabeth could relax any concern for Jane's happiness.

But she had no opportunity to walk out to the cottage until after well after Christmas, which passed in a whirl of gathering holly and mistletoe, decorating the house, services, feasts, and exchanging and enjoying gifts.

The doors to the smaller parlours were opened, and Elizabeth gave out that she had acquired new music from Uncle Gardiner, and played some of that alongside everyone's favourite Christmas carols, and that formed her sole recourse to music over the festive period.

But the same day she farewelled her aunt and uncle, she sent a note to Charlotte, and together they climbed the hill through the frost-covered woods to the cottage.

Lighting the fire, they shivered for a while until the cold was banished, and Elizabeth fretted about whether the instrument had lost its tuning because of the damp.

"Go on, Eliza," Charlotte rolled her eyes at her friend. "You will not be content until you have played a little, so I will have to wait for a cup of tea."

"No, you must not wait, we can have our cups of tea first and I can hum the new melody I thought of." Elizabeth reached into the basket for the jar containing the fresh milk.

"Very well. What is this one?" Charlotte had settled the kettle on the stove.

Elizabeth's foot began tapping. "I'm going to call it Hope's Beginning. It's a variation on March of Hope. Since so many people liked that, I thought to give them something different that is also inspiring."

"Good." Charlotte had set out the teacups. "And this will warm us up." She laughed. "Then I think you ought to do an arrangement of the March of Hope for a band and present it to one of the regimental bands. Then the ladies who play it will feel they are in some way part of the excitement of war."

"War isn't exciting." Elizabeth was unpacking the music paper and fresh ink.

"No, but the trappings of war and marching soldiers seem to stir the excitement of young ladies." Her friend smiled.

"True," Elizabeth said thoughtfully. "But it will take a long time to do an arrangement for such a large number of instruments that are new to me. Then I will not keep up with all the new things I want to write." She smiled over at Charlotte. "And we must think of some new songs, too. Your fortune will grow better if we do that."

Charlotte began humming. "You could write one that matches the military theme — on the romanticism of following the drum."

"That would send all the mamas and papas distracted. They would not want their daughters being led astray," Elizabeth was laughing.

"Oh, I do not know," Charlotte looked thoughtful. "The last part of the lyrics could be the man telling her what it was really like and saying that because of his love he would follow her to a better life."

Elizabeth stared at her. "That would work really well."

"I know." Charlotte looked complacent, her eyes teasing, and they were both reduced to laughter.