Lydia walked over toEllen.
“I would love to, but look at me. I am a bedraggled mess. I have been climbing trees and hauling branches like a farmhand. You would make me ride a quarter of a mile behind you so as not to be seenwithme.”
Ellen laughed. “You do not lookthatbad. But I suppose you are in the midstofwork.”
“I am. But I have missed seeing you. Can you come sit with me in the office so we cancatchup?”
“I wouldloveto.”
They walked to the office and sat at thetable.
“How is your writing going? Would you ever let me read anything?” Lydiaasked.
“I am reluctant to let anyone see what I am working on, but I do have a few short stories I could letyouread.”
“I would like that,” Lydia said, as she tried organizing the cluttered table. “And are you keeping up a correspondence withBartley?”
Ellen sat back in the chair and beamed. “Oh, yes. And I cannot wait until January when I go up to London.” She suddenly had an idea. “Lydia, why not come with me? We would have thejolliesttime.”
Lydia was surprised by the suggestion. “Oh… That sounds delightful, butmywork…”
“It will be January. What work in the garden will there be for you to do? It will be all frozen and bleak. No. Comewithme.”
“I would have to get Edwin’s approval,”shesaid.
Ellen waved her hand. “Oh, Edwin. I can handle him. Not to worry—you shall comewithme.”
“Yes, that sounds like a great deal of fun. But it could only be for a limited time. There will be a lot of work to do getting ready for springplanting.”
“A month. Can you free yourself for amonth?”
Lydia thought about that. “I do not seewhynot.”
“Excellent.”
“And your Mamma will not object?” Lydiaasked.
“Oh, no. She is in herschemingmode.”
“Howso?”
“She has totally given up on Pamela Stafford as a possible wife forEdwin.”
Lydia felt a jolt in her stomach at that announcement. “Oh? Does that mean Edwin is free to find hisownwife?”
Ellen guffawed. “Oh, Lydia, I can see you have not yet grasped the extent of the Duchess’s grasp and control. No, she has found a newprospect.”
Lydia’s stomach jolted once again. “Are you at liberty totellme?”
Ellen smiled. “But you are my friend. Of course. The name of the newly selected lady is Miss Caroline Beaufort. Her father is the Earl of Albemarsh and his estate abuts ours. However, they primarily live in London, and the lady seems disinclined to visit for fear the hem of her gown might be soiled in the wilds ofShropshire.”
Lydia chuckled. “Poor dear. And has Edwin been informed of hisintended?”
“Hehas.”
“And hisresponse?”
“One might say cool tochilly.”
