“It’s high time we had a ball in these parts,” Emma said. “Especially since winter is soon upon us. The days shall be dreary without something to look forward to.”
“My dear sister, you are simply ready to leave this household, are you not?” I teased. As the eldest, Mother was always reminding her how important marriage was. At nineteen, it should be 'imminent,' she told her constantly.
“Do not start on me! I know well enough what my responsibility is. However, it is also improper for all of the daughters to be out in society at the same time. I do not see Mother obeying the rules she forces on us.”
True enough. I set down my pen and stared out the window. I was not in the mood to write more in my journal today. I agreed with my sister that the winter looked to be a dull one. The trees were brilliant shades of sunset, but leaves were already scattered on the ground.
“Shall we enjoy the woods before the opportunity fades? We should at least take a stroll while we comment on the unfair obligations which befall us.”
“Yes, Elizabeth, a good idea, as usual. After breakfast, though,” she said, settling on a light red dress to wear. Emma had retrieved several options from her wardrobe, and they were now strewn about my room.
I removed myself from the window seat and turned to the closet. “I suppose I should prepare for the day, also. Let me see, what color should I choose today?”
“Every day you ask yourself that question, sister, and every day you settle on blue,” Emma rolled her eyes as she examined her dress in the mirror and picked up my brush to tend to her hair.
People often joked, “Mrs. Lockton, you should not have wasted so much beauty on your eldest with two others to follow. 'Tis good luck she will be first in society, so the others do not have to wait long for their turn, otherwise her chance would come later.” Of course, this was long before Mother decided to ignore that societal rule, as I mentioned. But Mother’s friends were correct in observing that Emma was of fairest face in the family, with blonde hair and green eyes. “Oh, Lizzie, if only you ever bothered trying,” Emma told me whenever I mentioned this, but I was content with being average. Our younger sister, however, did try, but was too awkward to be considered any kind of true beauty.
“Perhaps today will be different,” I said, still looking at the wardrobe. “No, blue it is. Maybe tomorrow then.”
“You would send me to an early grave if I ever caught sight of you in another color,” Emma laughed.
“Then I shall continue to wear this color out of my affection for you,” I said.
Once we were dressed, we went to the dining room for breakfast. Our younger sister, Margaret, was already down there. “Hello, sisters, I was just telling father that the militia may be coming to town soon. Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Emma and I exchanged looks. That would provide some of the excitement we’d been craving.
“Oh, really? Yes, that is surely good news,” Emma said, sitting down to her.
I gave Father a kiss on the cheek as I passed him.
“My dear girls, do promise me that you’ll not run off with any military men?” he smiled, then laughed as Mother came in with a disgusted look on her face.
“Not my daughters!” she cried, taking him seriously. “Having a husband in the militia is no life for any woman of character. Who could live on such an income? Girls, we certainly cannot support you forever. Oh, the burden you are becoming as you get older…” she waved her arms dramatically.
“Mother, please,” I said. “Do not go on of how we are the weaker gender and cannot support ourselves. I cannot bear it. Let us eat our breakfast in peace,” I grabbed the plate of eggs and scooped some on my plate.
She gave me a look I had seen thousands of times. “If only all my daughters had Emma’s pretty face and Margaret’s friendly disposition. Then I would have them all married.” Mother said this more to herself than any of us, before taking her seat across Father.
“Well, Mother, this town is in want of any gentlemen at the moment. Mr. Dowell wed Miss Lucy just the other week. This summer did not see many weddings.”
“If only you would return the interest of Mr. Richardson. He lives close by. We would see you so often.”
Emma rolled her eyes and I laughed. “He is like a brother to me, Mother. He was already a young man when I was born.”
“I don’t know. Thirty seems much younger than it used to,” Father’s eyes crinkled.
“He is handsome. Mr. Richardson’s home is one of the finest in these parts. No one’s land produces a better quantity of strawberries, I am sure of it. His income would find any woman in a comfortable way of life,” Margaret gushed.
“It is true that he could have wed ages ago, should he have chosen to,” I said.
“Well, Elizabeth, perhaps he is simply waiting for the right woman to be his wife,” she answered.
I took a bit of bread to hide my smirk. Mr. Richardson found her childish, and with good reason. She did not even act her age of sixteen, so she had little to offer to a man of some seriousness.
“Well, Mrs. Lockton, you may be ready for out girls to leave us, but I for one am glad to have our house full for another year.”
“Yes, I think you shall have all three of us for awhile yet,” Emma said happily.
“Not if I can help it. What luck if I, the younger, were to find a husband before my sisters?” Margaret said.
Mother beamed at her. “That is the spirit.”
Finally, talk turned to other matters for the rest of breakfast. As soon as Emma and I could excuse ourselves, we sought sanctuary out of doors. I invited Margaret, but she had no interest in a walk that would not lead her into the society found in town. The day was a little chilly and the sky a dull shade of gray, but I still enjoyed the crisp air.
“Will that woman speak of nothing else?” I said, kicking the dirt on the road.
“By ‘woman’ you mean Mother, I suppose?” she asked. “She only wants what is best for our future, as irritating as the topic is.”
We reached a fork in the road. “Shall we walk to Netherfield? I know it is a long walk, but I have no need to return home until a good portion of the day is behind us. Soon those walls will become a prison, and our walks will have to become much less frequent.”
Emma thought my proposition over. “Yes, Lizzie, I will if you want to.”
The time passed quickly. I had always admired Netherfield. The grounds were phenomenal, with an expansive garden and a small pond in front. The manor itself was made of a dark stone, and the inside was bound to be as grand, though I had never had the pleasure of seeing it. The estate had been empty for some time, it’s previous owner, a wealthy old man by the name of Mr. Smith, having retired to Cambridge.
“There is your castle,” my sister teased, through a clearing.
“Come, let us go closer.”
“We cannot trespass on these grounds,” Emma pulled my arm back.
I continued, pushing some stray tree branches out of my way. “Oh, no one visits here anymore but the ghosts, and we have a while before nightfall. I think we are safe!”
“Must you take everything so lightheartedly, Elizabeth?” But she followed me towards the pond, past it, and near the front stairway, leading to double doors befitting royalty.
“It has always been a favorite of mine, too,” Emma said.
I heard some leaves rustling. “What was that?”
“What was what?” Emma said, absent-mindedly. She was now as entranced by the estate as I always was, and walked around the home. As she headed towards the left, I turned round to look at the pond again.
I heard the sound again, and saw a man appear from the other side of the house.
“Emma,” I said, startled.
“Mmm?” she did not even look as I backed up towards her. Taking her by the arm, I tugged her with me. “Good Heavens. What on Earth?...” then she saw the man, too.
“What! Come back here! Explain yourselves!” he called.
“Yes, time to go,” I said.
Chapter Two
Unmistakable
Stories Main
Frick's Fairytales