Page 48 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

Caroline laughed. “Miss Eliza, your mother judged correctly. You are indeed a bluestocking.”

Elizabeth grinned at her friend, then addressed the clerk. “Sir, have you any illustrated books containing embroidery patterns? My friend has a particular interest in that form of artistry.”

The man looked pleased. “I do indeed, miss. If you will wait here, I shall bring the finest one we have.”

He returned with a copy of Ackermann's Repository of Arts. He handed it to Caroline, who began leafing through its pages. It was a collection of monthly issues bound in leather and beautifully illustrated in color.

She said, excited. “Look, Eliza. It includes a large collection of embroidery patterns.”

The clerk said, “If I may, madam, toward the back you will find a section devoted to color combinations for silk embroidery, along with many elegant decorative arts.”

As Miss Bingley continued to look through the book, Elizabeth rose. “Sir, I am ready to pay.”

He carried the heavy stack to the counter, wrapped each volume with care, and wrote out a receipt.

Fear stirred in Elizabeth's chest when he announced the total. Eight pounds for the collection. Papa paid Alice, Longbourn's maid of all work, eight pounds a year in wages.

Her stomach tightened, but she reminded herself that if she could discover how to cross the veil and allow her family to begin again, eight pounds was little enough. But what if it was all for naught?

She thrust the thought aside. Failure did not bear thinking of.

She counted out the money, accepted her receipt, and returned to Caroline.

In the end, Mr. Bingley purchased a print, and he also bought Ackermann's Repository for Caroline. They then went to Gunter's and enjoyed ices. Neither Elizabeth nor Jane had ever visited the establishment.

After taking a spoonful, Jane pressed her fingers to her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut.

Mr. Bingley laughed. “Did you eat too quickly, Miss Bennet? Have you brought on a frozen brain?”

Jane opened her eyes, laughter shining in them.

Elizabeth looked fondly at her sister as she ate her own ice in careful bites to avoid the sharp ache of the cold.

Her thoughts returned to Derbyshire and Stonehenge. She would study day and night to learn all she could, for Jane's sake, and for her parents, who had both passed so young. Then her thoughts settled upon Lydia. She would study for Lydia's sake as well, who might even now be living in a hell of her own, alone, friendless, and at the mercy of who knew what manner of man. She grimaced and amended the staggering truth. Perhaps many men.

Elizabeth bent her head, shielding her eyes with one hand as she strove to banish the image of suffering and degradation from her mind. Above all, she would study for her youngest sister. Of them all, Lydia paid the highest price for her misstep. The elder Bennets lay peacefully in their graves, and life had not dealt too harshly with the remaining sisters, but Lydia...

* * *

A week into her studies, while Jane, Uncle Gardiner, and Mr. and Miss Bingley conversed together, Elizabeth approached Mrs. Gardiner.

“Aunt Maddie, is your father still able to read a letter and write a reply?”

Madeline laughed, greatly amused.

“You remember Edward's remarks and now wish to question the man himself.”

“Well, not exactly question him, Aunt Maddie. I should simply like to ask what he remembers and what he has heard.”

“He will very likely think you a fanciful girl with no more sense than to believe in fairy tales. My father is a physician, a very practical man who draws his conclusions from the world around him.”

“No, Aunt. I shall tell him I am a student of history. As evidence, I will explain that through the years Papa and I studied the Greek poets, along with Plutarch, Aesop's Fables, Virgil, Ovid, Horace, and Cicero.”

Elizabeth leaned in. “And then I shall tell him we had only just begun reading the works of the antiquarians. Dear Aunt, I should very much like to speak with someone who has gathered the folklore of Derbyshire from the people themselves. Those old tales have been passed from one generation to the next for centuries. Do you think that will serve, Aunt Maddie? Or will he think me too fanciful?”

Madeline Gardiner watched as her niece's eyes brightened.

When Elizabeth finished, Mrs. Gardiner said, “Lizzy, I believe what you need more than a position is time to study and learn, away from all the loss and sorrow. My sister married a wealthy gentleman and resides in a beautiful country manor. If I wrote to her and asked whether she would allow you to visit my father, would you go?”