Mr. Brandon was the one who introduced the staff to her: Mr. Baker, the butler, Mrs. Hughes, the housekeeper, and the cook, Mrs. Clark.
Elizabeth, uncomfortable with her new position and the distance she would be forced to keep from the people who cleaned her room and prepared her food, smiled at them in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.
A timid young maid who said her name was Catherine showed her up to her bedroom, where Mary was waiting for her. The two friends ran into each other’s arms like they had been separated for two months instead of two days.
“Oh my God, Lizzie, I missed you so much!”
“I missed you, too,” Lizzie replied, on the verge of tears for some reason.
The anchor of familiarity that Mary represented at this sea of her new life was priceless, Elizabeth realised as she exhaled for what felt like the first time since her wedding.
“How was your trip?”
“I was done to a cow’s thumb,” Mary exclaimed as she sat down on a chair. “But I had a chance to sleep a bit before you got here, so I’m fine now. How was your trip?”
Lizzie blushed and looked away, and Mary grinned wickedly. “I see.”
“You don’t see anything,” Lizzie said defiantly and started pulling the pins from her hair.
“I see that your mouth looks really irritated, like someone’s stubble was scraping against it,” Mary teased.
Elizabeth’s hand flew up to her mouth as she ran to the looking glass.
“You liar!” she screamed as she laughed at herself.
Mary could hardly breathe from laughter.
“Oh, you young, blushing bride, it is too much fun to tease you,” she said as she wiped her eyes. “But seriously, are you alright?” she asked soberly after a minute. “Was it awful?”
“I’m alright, Mary. It was the opposite of awful,” Elizabeth admitted bravely, although her face burned.
“I’m glad.” Mary smiled.
“What do you think of Norwich?” Elizabeth redirected the conversation towards calmer waters.
“It’s magnificent. The staff were all very welcoming. I think you shall be very happy here.”
“Both of us, I hope,” Lizzie smiled at her oldest friend.
“I’ll let you freshen up now,” Mary said after she helped Lizzie out of her travelling dress. “I’ve laid out your clothes for dinner in the dressing room,” she said and motioned towards a half-open door, “and I’ll come up after dinner to help you get ready for bed.”
“Thank you, Mary.”
When Lizzie was alone in her room, she carefully examined and touched every single thing in it - the enormous and soft bed with its cloud-like pillows, the ornate plasterwork on the walls, the intricately carved fireplace, the escritoire and the chair next to it, as well as the two armchairs separated by a small table.
There were three doors inside her bedroom: the one through which she had entered led out into the hallway, the half-open one led to the dressing room that Mary had mentioned earlier, and the last one had to be connected to her husband’s bedroom. The very idea of him being so close at night made her shiver in anticipation.
Is it customary for young brides to feel like this?she wondered.Or is there something in my blood that makes me this wanton?
Elizabeth closed her eyes against the idea. She didn’t want to think of that possibility. She just wanted to go to dinner and then be with her husband.
*
“Is everything in your room to your satisfaction?” Talbot asked as they were being served the main course.
“Yes, it's perfect, thank you,” Elizabeth replied shyly, realising that she should have mentioned it without being prompted. “Everything I’ve seen so far is beautiful.”
“I shall show you the entire manor tomorrow in daylight,” he promised. “And we shall tour the estate bit by bit while we’re here.”
