AN: As a part of NaNoWriMo I was supposed to write a 50k words of a novel draft... Well, instead I'm writing this. That's why I am posting almost every day.
I hope everyone likes that one :)
####
A visit to the lawyer's office was needed to sign the final version of the prenup, but they were done before Elizabeth could work herself into more nerves than the situation deserved. She did feel an attack of self-consciousness when the woman had to prompt her for her signature and the pen managed to just slip out of her fingers-it was such a stereotypical poor little weak woman behaviour she could have kicked herself.
They signed, they shook hands with the notary, they smiled, they left as soon as they could and William's warm hand was resting on her waist all that time, reminding her although she is a big, self-sufficient girl, even big girls had to be reasonable when getting involved with people who had more money at their disposal than some minor countries. And if signing the bloody prenup in the presence of a supercilious lawyer who smiled at her in a very patronising fashion was what had to be done, then she would do that. Or, in fact, did that.
The bank was easy in comparison. There was an extension of the account contract to be signed, which William did, as the main owner, then Elizabeth was issued a card with her name and "PEMBERLEY" printed on it - no other logos or outward means of identifying it - and she signed her own additional contract and received a sealed envelope with the PIN number. Everything went much smoother than any bank visit she had ever experienced before and the bank employees were not watching her suspiciously.
"Everyone at the house has one" William explained with a shrug. "If you buy anything with it, remember to keep the receipt, that's it. Once a month an accountant goes through them and checks the state of the account against the receipts. I used to lose them all the time, but then..." he smiled guiltily. "She made me reimburse the house for the ones I couldn't prove. Anyway, it's usually Brian who does any big shopping, like building materials or bulk groceries. This is... just a precaution, in case you are in the town and someone asks you to buy something bigger."
"Ah, so the jars and everything, that's why Georgiana insisted on paying...?"
"She has hers, yes."
"But if we start the apple juice thing..."
"I will ask the lawyer for advice on that one - we could make it a separate business working on the estate or part of the bigger whole."
They walked to the car in companionable silence, Elizabeth's fingers encased in William's larger hand as she watched the town around her - quiet on that Monday morning - trying to learn it anew from the pedestrian point of view.
"Things have changed," she ventured cautiously.
"M-hm. Big world came to Lambton and it's here to stay."
"Well, it may be seen as a good thing."
"Depending what it brings. Some things are fine" he nodded to the opposite side of the street, where a coffee shop was displaying the first signs of Christmas offer. "But of some others we get too much."
Elizabeth frowned, looking around as they crossed the street, heading towards the car.
"What do you mean, too much?"
William waved in the direction they came from.
"There used to be one of everything here. One grocery shop, one shoe shop, one whatever. Now there are dozens of the same thing. I never know where to go to buy something."
"Well, competition is good. I, for one, am quite happy that there is more than one dressmaker in Lambton," she smiled at him, but his face was rather serious.
"Fine. Let there be two, maybe three. Everyone picks one they like, done. But why twenty shops with tourist equipment? And each of them selling the same, just in different colours?"
She grimaced.
"Well, that does seem wasteful."
"Not to mention absolute... surfeit of cheap clothing stores. I'm not sure there are enough teenagers in whole county to use up all these clothes. I'd rather have something else in the place of at least half of them."
"Can't help it, unless you know the owner and can convince them to give the shop a boot," she opened the door on her side before he reached it, so they found themselves suddenly off balance and much closer then before.
And William was blushing. Just a bit.
She glanced at him, at the buildings around them, back at him. Then she looked up, at the sky, seeking some kind of sign from higher powers, whatever they may be.
"William."
"Liz."
"Do I even want to know?"
He snorted.
"You always want to know."
"Unfortunately. How long has this been going on?"
"Ever since I managed to find seven discount clothing stores in one stretch of a street, one of which had replaced my favourite ice-cream parlour."
"Apparently you didn't eat enough ice-cream," she quipped, sliding into her seat and pulling her seatbelt down. "So, what did you do?"
He shrugged and smiled innocently.
"Nothing yet, not really. But when the time comes for some of them to renegotiate the lease..."
She leaned back with a moan as he started the engine.
"Is it to late for me to just run? Did I get involved with the mafia don of Derbyshire? Don Williamo?"
He show her such a hurt look she laughed.
"I am perfectly serious," he said softly after taking two turns. "This is an investment, Lizzy. Not money-wise. Well, that too, but nothing I expect a huge revenue from. This is an investment in local society. I want people to stay here, to like living in Lambton. I don't want them to move away after they graduate, to run away because the town has no prospects. I want our daughters to have a place to live in, not just visit occasionally when they fly in from some remote corner of the Earth. Or, if they would - because who am I to limit them - I don't want them to come back home and think 'oh, it looks just like everywhere else'. I want them to be able to go up Matlock Street and say 'Oh, see, the tart shop, I love their little pies' or 'I bought a butterfly net in this toy shop' or..." he shrugged. "I probably sound like a maniac."
She sighed.
"No, love," she patted his left hand. "Like a romantic."
"That doesn't sound that bad" he smiled at her as they waited at red light.
"Just try not to make the error most Romantic poets seemed to be prone to."
"That is?"
"Don't contract consumption. That makes for an attractive paleness of cheek, but is rather exhausting."
"I will take your recommendation into consideration, milady."
"That's all I can ask for."
They drove back home slowly, watching people still working in the fields and between the trees, collecting what they could - Pemberley looked the same, with the youngsters picking carefully every apple and pear, grounds crew covering the tree trunks for the winter and sowing the very last of fall rye.
For a moment, she thought of London. Busy streets, everyone looking down, trying to catch the bus, catch the tube, get here, get there, do the shopping, get home. Never really knowing anyone - and, in her case, pretending not to know anyone, in case the person turned out to be someone from the school - never connected, never tethered.
William was tethered. William was Pemberley. He lived and breathed Derbyshire. He might not be talking like a lad from the countryside - usually - he might not be traipsing around the estate in huge wellies and a tweed jacket patched on the elbows, but he was from this place, he was so much from this specific spot on Earth it sometimes hurt.
When they had been walking down the street, people had smiled at them. Every now and then someone had nodded in greeting and Will had nodded back to them. The woman in the coffee shop knew Will's favourite brand of coffee, the man in the bakery knew what to pack when Elizabeth mentioned Mrs Reynolds, and William walked down the streets as if he knew every step and every stone on these pavements.
Well, he probably did, didn't he?
William was home.
William was her home.
She blinked away sudden tears.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he brushed the moisture away from her cheeks and she noticed they were already on the drive up to the house. "Come here, Lizzy. What happened?"
He pulled her closer, until her face was buried in the lapels of his coat.
"Nothing. I'm stupid."
"How dare you say such things about my future wife."
"I am. Like, a complete idiot. I mean, all this... this crap, because I didn't believe in us. In you. And you... I..." she shook her head. "I love you, you know?"
"I think you may have mentioned that once or twice before, yes."
"I have to tell you, every day. Whatever happens. I love you, Will. I love you so much it sometimes feels like I can't hold it together. Sometimes I think I've got it, you know? Like I know everything, I'm in total control, all fine, system check, all green... and then you come and say something so hopelessly romantic like you just did and you blow all my carefully gathered restraint apart and I'm sitting there, trying to understand what the hell am I doing, because the is no way in the world this is real. I must be dreaming."
"Liz..."
"I can understand a lot. A lot a lot. I mean, the house, the estate, the grounds, the foundation - all is fine. But sneakily buying real estate in town because you don't like the shops that are in these buildings...!"
He held her even tighter to his warmth.
"It was... it was all for Rose. I was thinking only about Rose. But all that time, it was for the both of them. All for our little girls."
####
Evie had no other work queued after Elizabeth's dress was finished, so once they had confirmed that everything fitted exactly as it should and two neckerchiefs were produced for Mina and Rose, she was available for a coffee and some gossip. And Elizabeth revelled in it. There were very few people (apart from three of her own sisters and Georgiana) she could just talk to - and Evie, being saddled with a mother disappointed with any choice she had made up to date and a father who couldn't care less, was quite sympathetic towards Elizabeth's strained relationship with her parents.
She was an attentive audience and her eyes became round as coins when Elizabeth retold (for what seemed the tenth time) the story of her daughters switching places.
"And now you are here, of all the towns in England?"
"Yep."
"And of all the shops in this town..."
"Yep. Didn't like the bridal store up the street. Even their shop dummies seemed to look down at me."
"And, I suppose, Berta being and inch shorter than you helped to convince you we'd be willing to work with someone of less than runway model height."
Elizabeth only laughed and nodded. They ordered some more coffee and another slice of cake each (Evie wasn't one to deny herself sweets and Elizabeth knew she would probably use up any sugar she ate just by the sheer amount of walking one did on an old country estate to get anywhere) and chatted about everything and nothing - Elizabeth's work, Evie's involvement in the community centre, Elizabeth's recent book purchases, Evie's holiday plans (mostly keeping away from her parents) and the general neighbourhood and potential entertainment to be had in the coming weeks, up to and including the Christmas fair, where Evie was planning to have a booth.
Elizabeth sipped her latte and groaned in sheer relaxation. She didn't have to hurry back home. There was nothing more left to do. The house was clean, there were rooms prepared for everyone - including Kitty and Ted and the girls - the harvest was winding down, with Derek and his employees hard at work every afternoon after school, Georgiana and Mina had been glad to see the back of her and to get back to their practising, Rose was riding her horse with William... And the code was finished and currently in review, thankfully. Even the need for shopping was mostly reduced to "more jars!", which one of the farm hands went to purchase in Matlock that very morning, because local shops had been wiped clean of glassware of any size.
That though brought to mind one more tiny piece of shopping she could do now that she had someone except Mina (very seriously busy Mina who said "just get something for yourself, Mom!" when pushing her out of the door) to accompany her. She smiled at Evie and pulled out the gift cards the girls had won at the competition.
"What would you say if I asked you to give me some professional advice while I go shopping?"
Evie snatched the cards out of her hand and frowned at her with narrowed eyes.
"The hobby shop... But they don't normally have gift cards, do they? Where... The cosplay? It was you? Oh, both of... I was watching, but I didn't hear who won, and... Oh, they were wearing wigs! Did you make these dresses?"
Elizabeth shrugged but failed to hide a small smile.
"Then why didn't you just... you know... sew this one yourself?" Evie made an uncertain gesture. "Girl, you have the skill...!"
She cringed.
"I don't have a dummy. I know it sounds funny, but I... I can sew stuff for the girls, because it doesn't need all that much shaping, but you should know best it's hard to sew for someone without taking this into account" she pointed her thumb towards her decolletage. "And I would need a properly shaped dummy for that. Also, are you complaining about me commissioning a dress at your shop, Evie Martin? Are you crazy, or what?"
Evie choked on her coffee.
"No, no, absolutely not! Commission away! I just meant... Damn, I saw that Elsa dress and it was fab. You do anything else? Like, I don't know, embroidery?"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
"How much free time do you have?" she pulled out her tablet and opened the picture gallery.
#
Evie in the craft shop was probably even worse than Elizabeth herself. They wound each other up, pointing out yarns, ribbons and buttons, giggling over sizes of knitting needles ("you could kill a vampire with this one!") and oohing and aahing at the fat quarters of patterned fabric.
"I have barely touched my machine since we moved - well, I did sew the dresses, yes - but I still have these two absolutely grand quilts planned... Oh" she deflated in sudden realisation and sat at the small table on the side of the shop. "Oh."
"Liz? Something wrong?" Evie joined her at the table, plunking their overflowing basket on the floor.
Elizabeth bit her lip.
"Kind of. Do you know any place around here that would have a quilting machine? I mean, not to buy, but to rent by the hour, or... I don't know. Well, not that the quilts are done in any measure, but..."
"Lizzy Bennet, you are rambling."
"I suppose I am" she shook her head. "In London I used to rent the machines in one of craft centres, they have pay-per-time scheme for casual quilters, but here...?"
Evie frowned.
"You mean these machines with a bench, ones that you can screw the whole quilt in? With the rollers and everything?"
"Preferably, but I can also use a normal one, just with a lot of space under the arm. It will be harder and not so flexible when it comes to the pattern, but won't look a gift horse in the mouth."
Evie pulled out her phone and thumbed through the pictures.
"Large space under the arm, right? Like this one?" she turned her screen to Elizabeth.
"Yeah, sure, one of these would work fine. It will be a bit of a hassle to roll up the whole thing, but it would work. Is this a workshop somewhere here in the town? Can I see it?"
Evie leaned back.
"Well... That depends."
"Evie!"
"Are you afraid to visit a cellar of iniquity?"
Elizabeth pressed her lips into a thin line and looked at her friend patiently.
"The storage room below the shop. This isn't the first sewing establishment in this building, you see. My great aunt - she is the one who bequeathed that house to me, I think it had to be solely to thumb her nose at my mother - used to sew... guess what."
"Evie..."
"Quilted. Comforters."
####
Rose was watching her sister protectively. Not that Mina needed protection, as such - she was doing much better socially at school and her integration with their homeroom class was seamless - but sometimes the fifteen minutes of difference between them grew into an unsurmountable distance and Rose felt So Much Older!
Mina was enthusiastic. Mina got involved in stuff. Singing contest was one thing, but that whole Christmas concert thing? Who would volunteer for that?
(Apart from aunt Georgiana, that is, and she was in love with Miss Yang, so she probably kind of had to/wanted to.)
Poetry contest.
Poster about your favourite book.
Not to mention Christmas tree decorations and Italian club.
Rose felt... jaded.
For her, it was all so last year. Well, except for the Italian club. She wondered what they would be doing - cooking pasta?
She sighed and checked the time on her mobile. She had been waiting for at least twenty minutes already...
"Rose!" her sister sounded winded. "You will never guess...!"
Rose sighed and listened attentively.
Teddy happened by, stood with them for a moment, holding Mina's hand, listening to her story about an event that was to be held in the library, some kind of reading aloud competition for the benefit of the youngest pupils - the same as the year previous, of course, but as Rose rolled her eyes, she saw Teddy looking at her sister with a small, sad smile and then raising his glance to Rose and shrugging, just slightly, grinning.
Ah.
Mina had never had that. Her school her never been welcoming.
Nobody could say that Lambton high school was a place that fostered all and any talent and supported every need, but Rose herself had experienced Mina's London school - if only for three weeks - and it had sucked.
No wonder she is excited about every tiny thing.
It was the same as at the school dance - Rose was an old hand with these, two or three a year made her inured to the excitement of them - but her sister was living through a new experience a day, just because of the fact that the school existed and was moderately inoffensive to its students.
And Teddy saw it, too.
They had become used to the luxury of a society that - to varied degree, but still - accepted them as they were.
Mina was still discovering it anew.
That was... fine.
Rose watched her sister bid Teddy goodbye with a hug and followed her out of the school, still marvelling at the small but important differences between them.
In fact, sometimes looking at everything through Mina's eyes made Rose appreciate what she had even more.
#
The rest of the week was deceptively calm. They checked their wedding outfits daily, just to make sure everything was in order. On Tuesday, late in the evening, Mom brought the dress home, carefully wrapped in opaque plastic, together with two bulging bags of craft materials which made Mina almost salivate and two neckerchiefs of soft draping, deep wine-red material that Mom asked them to add to their sets for Saturday.
Dad had fortunately found something he needed Mom to urgently have a look at and Mina deftly offered the two of them would take care of the craft purchases - "put them away so that the kids won't find them when they come" - and Rose sighed in relief when Mom took them up on that offer and followed Dad into his study.
Next days were mostly filled with additional shopping for jars (Mom actually suggested they should set up their own glassworks next year and Dad for some reason found it extremely funny), stewing more apples and pears than Rose had ever considered possible, Derek's people crowding the kitchen and helping Mrs Reynolds to put the storage in the cellars to rights, Brian delivering flat packages of shelving units from IKEA in Sheffield, Mina practising with aunt Georgiana like a woman possessed, Rose practising on a printout of the guitar fretboard and various last minute adjustments that were commonly needed before any large family gathering, including enormous amounts of linens washing and obsessive scrubbing of all surfaces that were deemed too dirty by their progressively more and more frazzled housekeeper.
#
On Friday morning, when everything was as organised as possible and they were looking forward to seeing their cousins (Rose had to admit the little monsters had grown on her, if only a little bit), breakfast was quiet and sleepy. With aunt Georgiana sleeping in after working on some article until dawn, they sat four, nibbling slowly on their toast and scrambled eggs.
Dad was surreptitiously checking something on his mobile when a well-aimed balled-up napkin hit him in the face.
"Elizabeth!"
"Put that phone away and eat your breakfast" she pronounced regally. "What is so important?"
"Jonathan is badgering me for input about tile purchases. It is a bit early, but he claims we can get some great deals if we order now and in larger numbers..." he bit into his toast and chewed it slowly. "I mean I could tell him to just get generic white for everything, but wouldn't we want to put some colourful accents here and there? I don't want this to feel... utilitarian. If we are building this from scratch, we don't want to install something we won't like from the outset. I'd rather have it done later than hate the solution for twenty years."
"Well, for the one that nobody be actually using day to day, yes, I don't see an issue. Make it all white," Mom suggested with a shrug. "Ask Georgiana what she wants for hers and..." she nodded to the two of them. "Well, here they are, just collect their input."
Dad's eyes alighted on them and Rose elbowed Mina, who was overly focused on her cereal.
"What would you two like to have in your bathroom, hmm?" he raised an eyebrow in question. "All white? All pink?"
"Dad" Mina mumbled with reproach.
"All teal? Aqua? Plum and fuchsia?"
"William."
Rose glanced at Mina, who swallowed a mouthfull of cornflakes and finally asked "Can we get a kind of Marrakesh combination?"
Dad frowned.
"A Marrakesh...?"
"Like the mosaics?" Mina wiped her hands on a napkin and pulled out her phone. She typed something, swiped a few times and turned the screen towards Dad.
"So... blue, orange, yellow, black, white and red?" he bit his lip. "I hope you don't want literal mosaics, kitten."
"No, no. Just colour accents. Make..." Mina glanced at Rose, who just nodded. "Make everything white, but not like hospital white, just a bit off, like maybe a bit ivory. And add a line of this sea blue, and another of kind of rusty orange... I could draw this for you if it makes it easier."
Dad drained his coffee cup and leaned towards them.
"Could you make a model of it? I have this piece of software that I can model interior designs in. They say it has a nice base of all kinds of items you can use to build rooms..."
"You mean you have a 3D modelling software that you could use to design our bathroom? And I can play with it?"
Rose was torn between laughter at her father's expression at Mina's exuberance and worry. Her sister was going one day to just tear herself apart trying to follow too many interests at once.
"Well, I suppose you could, yes. Not like anyone else is using it, really. I mostly leave the modelling to the actual interior designers, but they installed a copy on my computer so I can show their suggestions to the customers, too..."
Mina quickly drained her teacup and swallowed the rest of her cereal.
"I'm done" she declared. "Can I see it today?"
Dad stammered.
"I don't have it on my laptop" he explained at last. "Just on the desktop at the office. And you two have school in less than an hour anyway, so..."
Mina honest to God pouted.
"No, definitely no. School first. Now, brush your teeth, collect your backpacks, take your lunch boxes from Mrs Reynolds and catch that bus, ladies."
"But...!"
"But me no buts, Mina. I won't let you go to the office and play with the program instead of going to school!"
Rose heard a suffering sigh from her little sister, but soon they were racing each other upstairs and crowding into the bathroom to grab their toothbrushes.
"School" Mina mumbled. "Overrated experience."
"No school, no Teddy" Rose reminded her kindly.
"Yeah, I know... But! 3D modelling software!"
"Later."
"But if I don't see it today...!"
"There will be time enough. Don't worry."
####
Having finished committing the code after the review and sending the invoice for a healthy sum, Elizabeth wandered downstairs on Friday around lunchtime and found Mrs Reynolds cleaning the main kitchen table with bleach and a stiff brush. Very carefully she disarmed the older woman, taking away her gloves and apron and pushed her into the rarely used armchair in the corner of the room, requesting that she stay there and, for goodness sake, stop trying to strip varnish from that poor tabletop.
"But what am I supposed to do now, Lizzy? There will be children coming and everyone..."
"Most of them had already been here" Elizabeth replied serenely. "And you are supposed to sit, breathe calmly and keep me company for the next two hours, so that I don't start fretting about tomorrow. Two of us panicking won't do any good."
"But, lovey, what are you doing?"
Elizabeth brushed her hair back and tied it away with a fat scrunchy.
"Baking the wedding cake, of course" she opened the cupboard where she had stored the baking chocolate bought online specifically for that occasion.
"Oh, dearie, but you should have ordered one! You should be relaxing right now, not... not bothering with baking!"
Elizabeth propped one hand on her hip and pointed the spatula at the older woman.
"William had ordered the rest of the food to be delivered, but the cake is mine. I relax this way. If I go upstairs and sit in our room, I'll start fretting about the dress and I'll do something idiotic like try to add something to it. Or I'll throw up due to nerves. That has been known to happen. I need to do something manual. It takes my mind off..." she waved at the ceiling. "Him."
"What? William? Why would you be worried about Will, dearie?"
She shrugged, not finding the right words.
"Sometimes... Sometimes I'm still worried he... he will wake up tomorrow and understand what kind of terrible mistake he is doing and change his mind at the last moment. So, I need to be doing things or I will simply tear myself apart with nerves."
"Oh, Elizabeth..."
"I'm fine. Fine. Now, where is that darned mixer..."
She started the standing mixer and quickly put five yolks and the sugar into the bowl to be beaten into fluff, placed the chocolate in a bowl over hot water and set the oven to start heating. As the mixer was buzzing happily, she prepared the round tin, covering it with a thin layer of butter and dusting it with flour.
Once the cake was in the oven, the cherries were draining on the strainer, the gelatin was slowly dissolving and the mixer was now beating the whipping cream into proper stiffness, she allowed herself a moment of respite over a cup of tea prepared by Mrs Reynolds, who in that time had prepared a small lunch for the two of them.
"You shouldn't worry so. You won't sleep well and tomorrow you will look tired."
"The ceremony is in the afternoon" she dismissed the problem. "Even if I look like a death warmed over, Jane and Kitty will have no problem dealing with it. And I can't really stop worrying. That's my default frame of mind. I always worry."
The sound made by the mixer changed and she sprinted towards it, but it was already too late.
"Damn" she watched as a handful of pieces of sweet butter gathered on the side of the bowl. "Good thing I bought a double backup amount or we'd be in trouble."
They moved the butter to a covered bowl - it was perfectly usable for cookies - and started on another pint of cream, fresh from the fridge, chilled and sweet. This one worked without an issue and soon Elizabeth had the cooled cake on the stand and started layering the cream on the top and the sides of it, piping a decorative row of rosettes at the bottom of the whole thing and decorating the top with cherries she had put aside earlier.
Once the cake was chilling in the fridge and all the bowls were set in the dishwasher, except for the chocolate melting one and the pan, Elizabeth took out the square marble slab she had kept - carefully covered - in one of the cupboards and a tray tray covered with a baking sheet.
"That doesn't make sense" Mrs Reynolds remarked from her corner. "But go on. I wish I knew what you were doing."
"Chocolate curls" Elizabeth smiled and fetched the thermometer and more chocolate from her stash. "I want them to be perrrfectly shaped and this is the way I do it."
She brought the chocolate to the correct temperature and, once sure of its tempering, poured it on the slab. Spreading it with a spatula to get an even layer took time, but she wanted this to be done correctly in the first attempt, so she was patient.
Once the chocolate started setting, she fished out another bit of equipment and started to scrape the curls off the marble, storing them in a prepared baking tin. Once she ran out of the dark chocolate, she repeated the same operation with a bar of milk one, and then, again, with a white.
The curls were then transferred to the fridge and Elizabeth suddenly found herself without an occupation for her hands.
Which immediately started shaking.
Damn.
She forced herself to focus on cleaning the marble and filling the dishwasher with the rest of the equipment. Once the table was washed, last remnants of the chocopalooza removed with warm water and the thermometer cleaned and stored away, she sat at the table and allowed herself to have a moment of quiet panic.
She didn't hear Mrs Reynolds leaving and she never noticed William arriving until he was sitting next to her and pulling her to his warm side.
They sat like this, she curled up against him, eyes closed, breath slowly evening out, head growing heavier and heavier with every breath, calm and soft and close.
That is, until the main door opened with a crash of wood against plaster and Rose could be heard shouting about guests incoming and was there anyone home, or were they supposed to handle all the aunts and uncles by themselves?
Even then, despite the fact that she straightened nervously, William held her for a moment longer, cupping her hip and her shoulder in his big hands, his lips pressed into her hair.
"Everything will be fine" he said softly. "We will be fine. I'm not changing my mind. Nobody is changing their mind. We are here, right now, us, our home, our family. This is as it's supposed to be. Unless, of course, you are having second thoughts?"
She looked up at him, eyes wide.
"Never."
"Then let's go upstairs and greet our guests."
#
Supper was lasagne - done in advance, easily heated, satisfactory to almost everyone (except for Evelyn, who begged not to be fed 'slimy noodles' and managed to wheedle some fried sausage out of Mrs Reynolds) and in quantity sufficient to fill all empty bellies and still leave a lot - useful if someone felt peckish during the night.
Washing the children (operation divided into two bathrooms for easier handling) went quicker than ever before, as if it was a practised exercise. Soon Rose and Mina were corrupting Jackie with something they had found on Netflix and other children, although grudgingly, allowed themselves to be put to bed and fell asleep, letting their enterprising parents set up discreet electronic nannies and leave the slumbering younger generation (with the exception of the oldest three) in order to seek some entertainment of their own.
#
Elizabeth had led the ladies downstairs to the library, where she had already prepared a space for all of them to sit, some not-very-strong cider and some card games, all setting a perfect scene for an unusually calm and ordered hen night.
None of them wished for a more energetic type of celebration and a few rounds of one game or another (and Elizabeth had a large choice of these) seemed a perfect idea.
Until, that is, the moment when Mary got stuck standing up during a game of "Voodoo" and came back down holding a book she had fetched from one of the shelves.
"I dare you" she said in an over-the-top serious tone. "I dare you to a reading challenge."
Georgiana frowned at the idea from over the cards she was putting into their little compartments in the box.
"What do you mean?"
"Each of us reads ten... No, fifteen sentences aloud, with proper emotion and everything. Who laughs the first in each round, takes a drink. This cider is barely stronger than apple juice, so we won't get very tight, but it may be a bit of fun."
Elizabeth twisted lazily in her comfortable spot, trying to see the cover.
"What is it?" Kitty pulled the book closer to her. "'In The Safety of Her Nest'? What the hell is this?"
Elizabeth felt her face growing red. Very, very red.
"Um," Georgiana stuttered. "It's... it's William's."
"William reads regency bodice rippers? Oh dear, it even has an appropriately idiotic cover with a busty milkmaid..."
"No," Elizabeth groaned dropping her face into her hands. "He writes them."
Her future sister-in-law was an absolute lightweight.
Kitty turned to her in astounded silence.
Mary surveyed the volume she was holding as if it had morphed into a dead lizard.
"He what?"
"He writes them, when he is bored or annoyed," Georgiana provided hesitantly. "I, well, uh, I of course have never read them, but..."
Elizabeth just hoped they would fall asleep quickly. Right that minute would have been the best.
"Come on, Lizzy, live a little" Jane prodded her side. "Let the others see what kind of fantasies your boy harbours."
"I'm not sure I should be reading this," Georgiana cringed. "It's embarrassing."
"OK, we will read it. All you have to do is keep a straight face. Ready, ladies?"
Jane topped up all the glasses with cider and they sat around, leaning on the cushions Elizabeth had gathered there in preparation for that little event.
"Alright, from the beginning, or random page?"
"Random!" Kitty made the choice for them.
"Fine, random" Mary closed her eyes and opened the book somewhat in the middle. "Here. From this spot" she jabbed the page with her outstretched finger and finally opened her eyes. "Fun! Now, listen."
Mary coughed, clearing her throat, and began reading.