I want to always remember standing here and watching the Sun rise over the sleeping world, alone with God.
By the time she made it to her dressing room, Mary was, by some miracle, already there, yawning in an armchair by the fire, and Lizzie smiled to herself at her earlier notion of being the only one awake in the manor. The kitchens were most certainly already hot and fragrant and bustling with activity, while she, now acting the grand lady, had been gazing at cobwebs and contemplating the beauty of the world.
Oh, how quickly man forgets.
“Good morning, Mary,” she said cheerfully. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Morning, Your Grace,” Mary grinned through a yawn.
Elizabeth shook her head at her friend’s teasing.
“I’m here because the duke ordered me to prepare some clothes for your outing later today, but warned me not to tell you anything about it.”
“He did? But youwilltell me, of course?”
“No,” Mary shook her head, “I dare not defy your husband.”
“Traitor,” Lizzie teased, secretly happy that her best friend and her husband were conspiring to surprise her.
She continued wondering about the outing Colin had planned for them as she descended the stairs. She had Mary put a cherry red ribbon in her hair to complement her mulberry dress, and she didn’t know whether it was all that colour, or the lack of sleep, or the feverish thoughts from that morning, but by the time she arrived at the morning room door, she felt restless and discomposed.
Lizzie pressed a hand to her stomach to calm its fluttering, then opened the door. Her husband was already seated and was reading the newspaper, and he lifted his head when he heard the door. Elizabeth was certain her eyes mirrored the delight in his.
“Good morning,” she said shyly, not wanting to seem too eager for some reason.
“Good morning, wife,” he replied warmly, rising from his chair.
He seemed so perfect to her, immaculate in both his attire and his manners. Would she ever cease admiring him?
“Have you slept well?” he asked.
“For the most part. I had a strange dream, so I awoke quite early.”
He returned to his paper as she filled her plate, and they sat in companionable silence until the servant who was arranging the last of the food left.
Talbot then wordlessly pushed the newspaper towards her. On the cover, she saw the wordsA year after Peterloo,and looked up at him. He was gazing at her intently as if waiting for more seditious sentiments.
“Thank you,” she said and started reading the article. It talked about the heroic yeomanry and the treacherous enemies of the Crown, and Lizzie put the paper back on the table, all her earlier good mood gone.
“A two-year-old boy was killed that day, and a woman who was expecting,” she said quietly, “I don’t think that boy had been plotting against the Crown.”
“He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Talbot said, clenching his jaw as he took in her distress.
“Eighteen dead, over six hundred injured,” she recited from memory.
He said nothing. Elizabeth looked at her husband (the perfect gentleman, the Duke!) and realised that he viewed every attack on the Crown as an attack on his own title.
Had her brother thought the same thing? Was that why he hadn't wanted her to read the papers any more?
Lizzie didn’t want to look underneath the gilt on her idea of Colin, so when he remained silent, she added, in a conciliatory tone, “I cannot believe a year has passed already.”
He nodded, seeming pleased at her change in tone, and she felt something inside her relax. She didn’t want a third man in her life to be disappointed in her.
“Yes, time flies, doesn’t it?”
She nodded and managed a small smile.
Colin cleared his throat. “Ever since our carriage ride to Norwich, I’ve been wondering how and why you even started reading the newspapers?”
