Page 26 of What Change Entails

Lydia reached for a biscuit. “No one pities me.”

“I pity the other travelers,” Elizabeth said.

Lydia considered throwing the biscuit at her. Unfortunately, the biscuit was excellent.

The luncheon improved Lydia’s spirits considerably despite her determination to remain tragic. There was cold ham, fresh bread, little tarts filled with preserves, and—most importantly—pastry. She informed Mr. Gardiner that the north might yet be tolerated under strict conditions.

“An encouraging concession,” he replied.

Mrs. Gardiner, however, watched Lydia over the rim of her teacup with entirely too much understanding. “You are enjoying yourself a little,” she remarked.

Lydia nearly choked on pastry. “I am not.”

“Mm.”

“I am merely hungry,” she insisted defensively.

“You have been hungry in Hertfordshire before without smiling at stable boys.”

Elizabeth’s teacup rattled faintly against its saucer.

Lydia flushed. “I was not smiling.”

“You asked him whether he had sisters.”

“That was conversation.” Could they not leave her alone?

Mr. Gardiner appeared fascinated. “Was it successful conversation?”

The traitorous corners of Elizabeth’s mouth moved.

Lydia glared around the table. “You are all very cruel.”

Mrs. Gardiner reached over to straighten the ribbon slipping loose from Lydia’s sleeve. “Merely observant.”

Lydia twisted the ribbon in her hands, suddenly less inclined to argue.

Her aunt possessed an alarming habit of making correction sound companionable. Mama became dramatic. Lizzy became severe. Aunt Gardiner merely adjusted ribbons and continued speaking like no battle had occurred at all.

It was difficult to remain magnificently offended in the face of such tactics. Aunt Gardiner made sulking feel like unnecessary labor.

After luncheon, the weather cleared entirely.

The roads stretched golden beneath late afternoon sunlight, and the carriage windows remained open enough to admit warm air carrying the scent of grass and damp earth. Lydia leaned out farther than Mrs. Gardiner approved of until ordered back inside twice in ten minutes.

“There might be riders passing,” Lydia argued.

“There might also be ditches,” Mrs. Gardiner replied.

“I should not fall into one.”

“That confidence suggests why you might.”

Lydia subsided with poor grace.

Still, she continued watching the road eagerly.

One never knew when interesting people might appear.