Page 38 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Mistress, the pudding is being served. I shall bring it directly.”

Mrs. Younge asked, “Do you have any nuts we may take with us?”

“Yes, mistress. I shall have some wrapped for you and bring them with the pudding.”

Georgiana ate the pudding, thinking it the finest she had ever tasted.

Mrs. Younge stopped a server as he passed their table.

“Would you bring me a sheet of paper and a pencil, please?”

When he returned with them, she began writing.

After a moment, she glanced up. “Georgiana, eat some cake. We will not dine until we reach Rochester, close to six o’clock, and after that we shall have nothing more until tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mrs. Younge.”

Georgiana nibbled at her cake, and though she was not hungry, she finished it without complaint.

* * *

When Georgiana next awoke, darkness had fallen. The rattle of the chaise over the cobblestones had awakened her. They must have reached London.

She sat up and looked through the window. The lights of the city stretched before them.

“We made it, and Mr. Wickham did not follow us. Oh, I can hardly wait to see Fitzwilliam. What will he say when he learns everything?” She drew into the corner of the chaise and wept.

Chapter 17: Sacrifice

The young couple sat at the far corner of the drawing room and spoke in low tones. Mr. Bingley asked, “Can you not remain in Meryton, Miss Bennet, with the same uncle who will shelter your younger sisters?”

Jane's eyes brightened for a moment as she met his gaze and saw the earnest entreaty within it.

“Sir, my Aunt Phillips does not have sufficient room for my two sisters and me. And because it has been only three months since my parents passed, it would be unseemly for me to attend any social engagement beyond church. Were I to remove to my Aunt Phillips's home, which stands in the center of town, I could not receive your visits. Everyone would see who comes and goes, and my name would become a byword.”

“Would it be easier for you to receive visits from my sister and me in London?”

She offered him a sorrowful smile. “It would be easier, sir, but under the circumstances, I remain in deep mourning, and I do not believe my uncle would permit it. He was my mother's younger brother.”

Mr. Bingley lowered his gaze. “I understand. Miss Bennet, would you walk out with me? Since you leave tomorrow, this will most likely be the last opportunity we shall have to visit.”

“Yes, sir, it would be my pleasure.”

They both rose, and Elizabeth watched as Hill handed him his hat and Jane her bonnet and gloves.

Miss Bingley said, “I am sorry, Miss Eliza, that your home must pass into the hands of tenants. What a barbarous custom, to dispossess a gentleman's daughters in favor of a distant cousin.”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “Not only a distant cousin, but one who has also passed away. One, moreover, who did not think it just and proper to offer his hand in marriage to one of those daughters.”

Mary said, “When a gentleman chooses to entail his estate, it would be considerate if he required the heir to marry one of the bereaved daughters, should any be of a suitable age and unmarried, or else assume responsibility for their support until they marry.”

“That would indeed be ideal, Mary,” Elizabeth said, “but, as we ourselves have discovered, the decision belongs entirely to the heir.” She looked to Miss Bingley. “Let us speak of happier things. Did you bring your embroidery? I wish to see the colors you selected for the roses.”

Miss Bingley's eyes brightened. “Eliza, it is becoming the most beautiful piece I have ever created. I owe it entirely to Jane for helping me choose the colors.”

All four ladies gathered by the window to admire Miss Bingley's work.

“This is beautiful, Caroline. It shall become an heirloom, handed down through the generations.”