“Bonchurch Old Church, Near Ventor” (From the book Isle of Wight), painted by A. Heaton Cooper. 1908. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“Lucy, I am here to offer comfort to you, not garner your praise.” He (Philip) chuckled.
“Passing on my father’s praise gives me comfort. It makes it seem less like he is gone.”
“Then, I shall attempt to receive his compliments graciously.” He leaned back and looked toward the grave next to which she had been kneeling. “You said you were sharing news with your father. Is it anything with which I could be of assistance?”
She tilted her head and gave him a searching look. She had promised her father that she would speak to each of the men on his list. However, she had intended to do so with her Aunt Tess present, not while alone in a churchyard.
Rudolph Ackermann. View of Piccadilly from Hyde Park Corner Turnpike. The Repository of arts, literature, commerce, manufactures, fashions and politics, 1809. Internet Archive Book Images, No restrictions, via Wikimedia Commons
He (Henry) whistled a jolly tune as he mounted his horse and made his way toward the park. A bit of fresh air, a good breakfast, and then one call. He pulled in a deep breath. His happiness was very close; he could almost feel it now. Constance had smiled at his admission of wanting to marry her. His chances were very good if he could get her brother to agree with him.
“Crawford!”
Henry turned toward the barouche that was coming toward him. “St. James,” he greeted with a tip of his hat.
The rather portly gentleman waved Henry over.
“How can I be of service, my lord?”
“You can learn to be discreet,” the man answered, scooting to the side of the carriage closest to Henry…
[Description: “Phaeton with canopy”, draft by Johann Michael Hoppenhaupt der Ältere (the elder), 1745.] Johann Wilhelm Meil (1733-1805), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
I know the image above is a phaeton and the vehicle below is a curricle, but when I saw this drawing, I couldn’t help but think that it was the very sort of carriage the scheming Miss de Bourgh from Becoming Entangled would drive. 🙂
“You are Alistair’s friend, are you not?”
He nodded.
“And you do know the counties of England, do you not?”
Again, he nodded.
She stood. “Then you will be perfect.” She paused, furrowed her brows, and pursed her lips as if uncertain about something. “Unless, of course, it is not something you are brave enough to do.”
His brows flew halfway to his hairline. “Is it dangerous?”
A small smile played on her lips. “Not if we do it correctly. Now, if you would be so kind as to help me back into my curricle, I must be on my way to the parsonage. I do not wish to be late. Mrs. Collins will be waiting.”
From The Lady’s Monthly Museum. Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
She looked at the faces which stared back at her in disbelief. “I am not fit for bedlam, if that is what you are thinking. I know it is a sudden turnabout, but a turnabout it is. I have made my choice and am moving forward. How is it you said it, Richard? The past is in the past? And that is where it shall stay.”
“And you are certain of this, Catherine?” questioned Lady Matlock. “You are not just taking the role expected of you for the sake of the family?”
“Good heavens, no!” Lady Catherine shook her head. “I have spent far too many years doing as the family expects. Is not a lady in her dotage allowed to do the unexpected? In three weeks, I shall hand over the care of Rosings to the younger set and shall begin to take my ease.”
Monatsbilder (labour of the months) c1622. Matthäus Merian, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“What are you reading?” Mr. Wesley sat down next to his daughter on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the walled garden.
The sun was slowly climbing its way into the sky. Dew still clung to the plants in the beds that circled the fountain except for where they were interrupted by walkways.
Charlotte flipped her book open to the title page of the novel she was not presently reading but was, instead, using as a concealment device.
“I thought you had already finished this book?”
Charlotte could feel her cheeks warming under her father’s skeptical look. “I did, but I wished to read it again. There are so many different details that stand out when one reads a book a second or third time.”
“I will not deny that. In fact, I will say it is because you already know the path the story will take, and because of that, you can pay attention to the scenery along the way instead of just attempting to find the destination. However, it appeared to me as if you were not actually reading about the Dashwoods.”
She sighed and opened the book to where a letter was tucked between the pages. “It is silly,” she said.
Her father took the book from her and examined the letter. “Why is reading Mr. Chapman’s letter silly?”
