Puck and Prejudice

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The night lay silent, devoid of any stirring breeze. Above, through the shroud of clouds, faint glimmers of cold light pierced

the darkness. The stars stood sentinel over Lizzy’s solitary stroll. As she unlatched the gate to the cemetery, the frigid

metal protested with a loud creak, causing her to startle. Nearby stood the imposing mausoleums of the wealthiest families,

their names all too familiar to her. Yet, she sought a more secluded spot, away from prying eyes. Her gaze settled on a simple

hand-dug grave, its freshly disturbed earth marked by a modest stone. Dread filled her at the sight, but she pressed on, each

step slower than the last, the crunch of gravel beneath her shoes echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.

Finally, she reached that darkest, shadowy corner of the yard. From underneath her black shawl she removed a single red rose

and bent to throw it at the bare clumps of dirt. The name carved into the stone read tucker taylor rip 1812 .

Lizzy startled awake, beads of sweat coursing down her back.

Tuck glanced up from her stepfather’s newspaper that he was reading beside her in the carriage.

“You okay? You’ve been twitching in your sleep.”

“I—I simply had a dream, nothing more,” she murmured, her hand bracing against the brocaded wall for support. “We’re nearly there.” The rolling green fields of Southampton spread out beneath the unblemished deep blue skies. This was reality; she wasn’t in a cemetery, and Tuck was not deceased. Yet, this was the third time she had dreamt this since Frank Witt’s passing. It was as though the looming reality of becoming a widow haunted her, forcing her to confront all the careless words she had uttered about it in the past. Despite the tight ache in her stomach and the throbbing in her chest, she couldn’t bring herself to plead for Tuck to stay. Not if his health declined again and something unfortunate occurred. She would never forgive herself.

“Hey now.” He slid his hand over and took hers. “Your breathing is speeding up.”

“I suppose I’m feeling a bit fatigued,” she said with a forced cheeriness.

“You sure that’s all?” He searched her face. “I’m here if you need to talk.”

“You may always talk to me. But I’m perfectly well, thank you.”

He appeared as though he might resist for a moment, and her throat constricted with apprehension. If he insisted on having

this conversation now, she feared she would break down in tears. And once she started, she doubted she would be able to compose

herself before reaching the Woodlands.

“Georgie and Jane will be glad to see you. Last they saw you, Henry got on the chase right after.”

“They both sent me letters cursing his name. If he possesses any morsel of wit within his small head, he would be wise to

steer clear of the area. Their capacity for holding grudges surpasses that of most.”

“It feels like six years since I crawled out of that pond.”

“Everything has changed, hasn’t it? And yet out there?” She gestured to the rural scene out the window. “The world continues as it always has. How many others like us are out there, people whose entire worlds have shifted, and yet the sun rises and sets regardless. Some days are warm, others bring rain. The seasons inexorably change.”

“You are acting like we are facing death.”

“I’m sorry,” she said automatically.

“Don’t do that. Apologize if you’ve done something wrong and you want to make it right. But don’t say sorry because you think

I’m getting annoyed; that’s not who I am, and that’s not what we are. I respect you too damn much to need you to make yourself

small in the hopes that I’ll listen.”

He didn’t pen her sonnets or odes, but something in his plain speech sent her swooning just the same.

She poked out her lower lip. “Please kiss me, immediately. Right here.”

He smirked. “I just have to say a few nice words and you want to kiss me?”

“Truthfully? I always want to kiss you. But right now, I want to kiss you as properly as possible.”

“Because?”

“I need no reason. But if I am to offer one, it’s for my own pleasure and hopefully yours as well. You make me happy.”

“In that case? I accept.”

He leaned in and she watched him the whole way. She never got tired of noticing the small ways the brutal hard lines on his face eased when he looked at her. Or how his mouth, wide and stern, softened. She put a hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes for a long moment. His lashes were so dark and thick. When his lips brushed hers, they both released a sigh, the heat from their breath warming her face. She began to pull back, but he grunted his refusal, his hand reaching up to cup the back of her head.

His subsequent kiss was firmer, more exploratory. As she parted her lips, his tongue slid across hers in a languid manner,

as if time were of no concern, when in reality, it was slipping away rapidly. It felt surreal that this moment, so intensely

real, would soon become nothing more than a fleeting memory. He pressed in and her neck tilted back as he deepened the kiss,

taking his time to taste her properly. She clung to his wide shoulders and let him steal everything he wanted, because the

great mystery was that for everything he took, he gave her back twofold.

The carriage jolted with a hard bounce and they knocked apart.

“That’s enough. I want Jane and Georgie to be glad to see me. Not to pull into the Woodlands with the idea that if this carriage

is rocking don’t come a-knocking,” he said.

She slapped a hand over her mouth as she swallowed back a giggle. “Rocking?”

“I’m serious.” He grinned. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

The carriage slowed as the large redbrick home came into view. Somewhere a dog’s deep bark began. “Goliath knows we are back.”

“That means everyone else does too.”

Sure enough, as they stepped out of the carriage, Georgie came rushing out the front door. Before Lizzy could even raise a

hand in greeting, her cousin enveloped her in a warm embrace.

“My, what a tumultuous time you’ve had,” Georgie exclaimed, checking her over. “Come inside, come inside. Let’s have you fed

and rested. I’m eager to hear every detail.”

“What’s the order of events here?” Lizzy teased. “Eating while telling you everything? Or resting first?”

“Let’s see if you can manage both at once. You’re talented. And you.” Georgie released Lizzy and dusted off her skirts while eyeing Tuck up and down. “You’ve gotten bigger in your absence.”

“Nah. If anything, I’ve dropped weight. I haven’t had time to focus on my fitness.”

“Hmmm.” Georgie gave them both a suspicious glance. “Something tells me that’s quite a lie. Lizzy’s cheeks are too bright,

for starters.”

“Cousin!” Lizzy was scandalized, but Georgie was already leading them back inside, chuckling to herself.

“Jane shall be coming to dine and will remain a few days.”

“How is she?”

“Consumed by this book. I believe she is almost finished, though she keeps saying that. She claims it’s her best one yet,

which is alarming given that Sense and Sensibility was frightfully good. How about you? Have you been writing?”

“Not a word,” Lizzy admitted. “But...” She forced a bright smile. “That won’t be for long. Soon I’ll have all the time

and I’m ready to get right to work.”

Georgie drew near. “Does that mean what I think it means?” she muttered, out of earshot of the servants carrying in their

cases. Tuck was walking at a discreet distance, giving them time to catch up with each other. “You figured out a way to send

him back?”

“I’ll explain when Jane comes. I don’t think I can do it twice.” Something in Lizzy’s voice caught Georgie’s attention.

“I see,” her cousin said in a tone that made it clear she likely didn’t, but she was willing to be more patient than usual.

“Shall I put Tuck back into Neddy’s old room or—”

“He can be with me,” Lizzy said briskly, though she imagined her cheeks must have been the color of summer tomatoes.

“Hmmmm.” Her cousin sent out a few orders before asking for tea and cakes to be brought into the drawing room. Tuck excused himself to stretch his legs.

It didn’t take long for Georgie to be spraying crumbs of cake as Lizzy described encountering Henry in Gretna Green.

“I knew he was a toad, but I hadn’t pegged him for a rat,” she said, taking a glug of tea to clear her throat. “We’d thought

locking him up would be deterrent enough, but the horrible creature went crawling down the drainpipe, did he? Too bad he didn’t

break his traitorous little neck.”

“Georgie! Henry is your cousin too,” Lizzy scolded.

“Is blood thicker than water when one is as odious as your brother? I think not. He would have either strong-armed you into

a hideous marriage with one of his popinjay friends at his club or he would have made your life an absolute living hell if

you remained unmarried. Likely forced you to be a governess to his future spawn. Imagine a nursery full of little Henrys.”

She gave a full-body shiver. “The very notion will haunt my dreams. Ah, there’s Jane now.”

Lizzy turned to see Jane walking up the front yard, her arms wrapped around her middle and her thin lips mashed together in

thought.

“Is she quite all right?” she asked.

“I’m telling you, it’s this book. First Impressions is what she’s calling it, but that isn’t a very good name, is it?” Georgie took a sip of tea.

“It’s not so bad,” Lizzy said diplomatically.

“It’s not so good either. She can do better. And I’m sure she will.”

Jane was announced to more exclamations and hugs before Georgie got them all back down to business with her usual pragmatism. Lizzy filled them in on what Ezekiel Fairweather had surmised in terms of ley lines, Druids, and the eight wheel dates. By the end, both their eyes were round. They exchanged a glance.

“You believe it will work?” Jane asked.

“Mr.Fairweather seemed to think so, and while it makes little to no sense to me, it also doesn’t make a great deal of sense

how he arrived here in the first place.”

“And in three nights’ time, he will go back to the pond, and if he doesn’t come out again, it will have worked.” Georgie sat

back in the chair. “And what will be the story?”

“There cannot be a body,” Jane said with authority. “That much is clear. We’ll hatch the little story about Mr.Taylor going

down to Southampton Water to go bream fishing near Hamble. He takes out a dinghy and doesn’t come back by teatime. A fishing

accident. We can organize a search party that bears no fruit. Our Lizzy grieves. We observe a time of mourning. And then...

she is free.”

Lizzy tried to take a full breath. Had her stays gotten tighter? Or was the room just overly stuffy?

“Good heavens, that’s quite a plan to come up with on the fly. Remind me never to be your enemy,” Georgie remarked.

“We can arrange to have all her belongings sent down from London, and she can become permanently installed here. My goodness,

Lizzy. When you used to say you dreamed of being a widow, I must confess it felt rather like a dream that we’d indulge. And

now look, here you are, right on the precipice of having everything you wanted. You’ve made all your dreams come true!”

Lizzy grasped the arms of her chair tightly, meeting the smiling countenances of her two closest companions before promptly

bursting into tears.