"Eliza, we will be late indeed."
"And how shall they punish us, cousin? They cannot possibly steal away these precious moments or erase our memories of this golden hour."
Christopher Brandon worried at the potentiality of his father's rebuke when they would arrive late to dinner, Mr. Brandon being so punctual about the serving times. But his cousin's beauty and passion for enjoyment drew him farther from the house to run uninhibited through the long grass. Catching up to her, he grabbed hold of her outstretched arm and brought her close.
"They will suspect us of some terrible sin," he whispered.
"Let them. We will be long gone by tomorrow and they will have no hold over us then."
"Are you certain of your decision, then, my dear Eliza?"
"How can you doubt me my darling? We will be married, and I shall be the happiest woman in all of England. My uncle is sure to change his opinion of us in time. And one day we will all be such a contented family."
Eliza's optimism was contagious, so much so that on returning to the house, both were in a mood of levity. Even so, neither gave any signal of how they truly felt to the rest of the household. The warmth of the day did not follow them inside, and Eliza was soon reaching for her evening wrap. As they entered the corridor that led to the dining room, Christopher could hear his father's footsteps pacing and his lowly toned mutterings to his older son. Finally, they reached a turn and Mr. Brandon caught sight of them.
"I suppose you have lost your pocket watch, have you, Christopher?"
"No sir. We were only enjoying the summer weather and lost track—"
"Well, you had better keep a closer eye on the time from now on, shouldn't you?"
"Yes sir."
"Now, my sweet Eliza, may I escort you to dinner?"
This latest question, like all the rest, was intended for one kind of answer only, with the affirmative. The next hour was spent as all other dinners had occurred before. Mr. Brandon complained to his elder son, James, about the state of the house or the performance of the servants. This occasioned for James to agree with him and give suggestions on how they might possibly go about correcting everything that was amiss. When they had finished, Mr. Brandon turned to his niece, who sat to his right, and asked her about what she was working on to become more accomplished. He would often end that part of the conversation with a line such as 'Your father was a very wealthy man, wasn't he Eliza?' and that evening their dialogue was no different. He then returned to James to ask about what kind of game he had hunted that day, whom he had met in the village, and so forth. It often went that for a good portion of the hour that Christopher would answer a simple question about his reading and then would remain silent, slowing his pace of eating to match the others.
After dinner, they all retired into the drawing room, the smallest but the warmest room in the house. Eliza moved instantly to the piano, James and Mr. Brandon sat down to a game of checkers, and Christopher placed himself at the writing desk. Music soon drifted throughout the room as the low candles flickered on the walls.
"What do you mean to do by sitting over there? Not many important letters to write, have you?" Mr. Brandon asked his youngest son.
"I am practicing my signature, sir."
"Good, then. Make sure it is solid and not too frilled with ornamentation. They say a man's signature shows the strength of his lineage."
"I will try, sir."
As the evening drew late, Mr. Brandon signaled that he was ready to retire to his own room for the night. James aided his father to rise from his chair and Christopher took Eliza's arm in escorting her to her room. On approaching the door, he stopped and turned to face his cousin.
"Well, I should bid you goodnight," he said, taking her hand and kissing it softly. "Until tomorrow, then."
Their hands parted and Eliza was left to enter her room, fingering the folded stationary given to her in secret. James, having been watching the scene from the landing above, was then satisfied and so left for his own bed.
Christopher's note unfolded, Eliza saw that it contained these words:
My dearest, loveliest Eliza,
While I hold firm in my standing that you are still a free woman and have yet the ability to refrain from the plan we have formed, I endeavor to hope the feelings and desires we keep in our hearts are the same. The post will reach here at a quarter past five, at which time I entreat you to be at the gate waiting with me.
Your most devoted friend and companion,
C. Brandon
P.S. I request of you to pack lightly as it will be pleasant weather and we shall not have many opportunities for finery.
The lightened sky signaled the beginning of morning chores. There were papers to be pressed, baths to be drawn, and floors to be swept of remains of the day before. Yet the house still remained hushed in the dawn's expectancy.
Christopher, awakening from the few hours of sleep he had obtained, worked quickly to clothe himself in the dimness of his last candle. Eliza put on the simplest of her cotton dresses and, tying her bonnet into place, was suddenly interrupted by her lady's maid.
"I've come to help you bathe, miss."
"Oh Betsy, how good you have been to me. I will never forget you, I promise. I have something I want to give you," Eliza brought out two guineas and placed them in Betsy's hand. "Please don't tell James and Mr. Brandon you saw me, Betsy. Please, I beg of you."
"I won't if you don't want me to, miss," she said, dropping the coins into her pocket. And she would stay true to her word.
"Thank you."
The post was on time and the guard had their luggage tied to the top of the coach in a matter of minutes. Christopher and Eliza joined three other passengers inside and soon they were heading north towards Scotland.
Christopher continued to glance out the window for many miles in fear of being pursued by a servant, his brother, or even his father. Though his father's age may cause him to move slowly on foot, when enraged, he could ride at a galloping pace.
"Do not worry, the worst is over now. We have left the house without being seen by anyone but Betsy and are now free of any hold they have had over us."
Christopher became calm and allowed his head to rest against the inside of the coach. He felt at once liberated and apprehensive of what was to come. But for a short time, he was content to sit and gaze at his bride to be. Their untraveled road would soon become the setting of the beginning scenes of their story.