Of Gossip and Dances

Their carriage rolled to a stop outside the home and Lydia could barely contain herself. Since her eldest cousin had married, she had not once seen her new home or child, and now she was to see both. When the door was opened she climbed out herself and there at the top of the stairs was Beatrice. She hurried up the steps to embrace her cousin only to stop when she noticed the child in her arms.

"Oh, he is just adorable," she gushed, peering down at the child swaddled in an embroidered blanket.

"He is, isn't he?" she cooed, looking down lovingly at her son. She kissed the child's forehead before passing her to the nurse who was standing behind her. "He needs to go for his sleep but I had to have you meet him!"

Lydia nodded and the three girls headed into the house, with Beatrice leading them out into the garden where a parasol had been erected on the outside table and tea had been laid out. They took their seats and her eldest cousin turned to her. "I am so happy Mother wrote to me to say that you were here for a visit. My dear sister did not once think to tell me."

"I told Mother to write to you," Eleanor protested.

Beatrice shook her head at her. "You always say that."

"Do not!"

Lydia gave a laugh. "I would have wrote to you myself, dear cousin - or should I call you Mrs. Thorpe?"

Her cousin playfully tapped her hand. "Oh, don't you!" she exclaimed.

"Beatrice Thorpe sounds nicer then Beatrice Hughes," Eleanor said.

Lydia nodded. "Married life suits you."

"Oh shush!" She then turned to her sister. "Have you thought any more about my proposal?"

That gained Lydia's attention. "What proposal?"

"To seek out a husband for her, of course!"

"You never said!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Eleanor, surely you're not looking?"

"Well, why not?" Beatrice asked. "I was nineteen when I was engaged."

Eleanor waved her hand in a dismissive way and picked up her teacup. "Mother always said you were made for marriage," she said before taking a sip of tea.

"She also said that you were always free-spirited and too independent," her sister retorted.

For a moment Lydia thought that Beatrice sounded so much like her eldest sister, the one who had been married for many years already. Out of her two older sisters, her eldest was the one she disliked the most. She thought that she knew everything and that being unmarried at nineteen was an inherently bad thing. Both Lydia and her mother thought she was being silly.

"What about you?" Beatrice said, turning the attention back to her. "Have you any suitors?"

"Dear cousin, we did not come to talk of marriage and suitors!" she protested, shaking her head.

"We're here to see you and my little nephew," Eleanor added.

That helped steer the conversation towards a lighter topic and they remained in the garden until the temperature dropped slightly as it approached the evening. They were alerted when dinner was ready and Beatrice explained that her husband would be there for their next dinner. Eleanor was the most talkative during the dinner and afterwards Lydia was finally able to hold her cousin's child, cooing gently as he looked up at her. It made her excited for when her sisters would give her a niece or nephew.

Beatrice excused herself shortly after dinner and had them shown to their rooms. Eleanor's room was next to hers and shortly after they had got ready for bed, Lydia slipped out of her room and knocked quietly on her cousin's door before slipping into the room where her cousin was stood by the window, plaiting her hair.

"I don't want to sleep alone," Lydia said, climbing onto the bed. "I thought we could share, like we did when we were young."

Her cousin nodded, finished her hair and climbed onto the bed. They pulled back the covers and climbed underneath them, letting them drop around their shoulders. "Let's promise to never marry."

"Never ever," Lydia promised, pulling the covers closer to their chins. "I wish Father would tell me why he needed to come to Kent."

"Why?" her cousin asked.

"He is stressed and normally only Mother gets like that. He does not know when we are returning and yet tells me to write to Mother and not mention that."

Eleanor sighed softly. "We are women--"

"It is not our concern," Lydia finished, "but I can't help but worry."

"All men need a woman to worry for them. That's you while your Mother can't."

"I don't like it."

Her cousin smiled and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Mother says only a good woman doesn't."

They talked lowly late into the night and only managed to drift off to sleep at an inappropriate time, making it so that when Eleanor's door was knocked at in the morning to alert her that breakfast was soon, neither wished to leave the bed. Lydia wondered when her father last had the luxury of having a couple of extra moments in bed before he had to begin his day. Though she knew her mother wasn't the sort of woman to want to lay about for more than was required, she hoped that he had some rest while they were visiting her aunt. Surely he could not be consumed by work the entire time?

She helped her cousin dress before they ran into the room next door and Eleanor helped her dress. They then went down for breakfast, where Beatrice was waiting for them with her son in her arms. "I was beginning to wonder where you were," she said as they took their seats at the table.

Lydia smiled fondly at the child. "Your sister would not leave the confines of her bed," she replied.

"Dear cousin, you wound me!" Eleanor exclaimed.

"I hope you do not mind," Beatrice said, gesturing to her son, "my husband and I have employed a tradition where after he has been fed, he sits at the table with us each morning."

"What would Mother say?"

"Oh hush!" Lydia chided her cousin. "It's sweet."

The breakfast was a merry affair and only after Lydia had held the child once more was he passed onto his nurse and the three women moved into Beatrice's leisure room, where she had a small array of books and kept her needlework. They sat on the settees, Eleanor next to her sister and Lydia on the one opposite, keeping conversation steady as they began to embroider. It was a leisure that Lydia didn't mind but despised having to do it with her mother. That woman was not the right company for something like that. In fact, she didn't know quite what her mother was the right company for.

It was only when noon broke that their time was interrupted when one of the attendances to her cousin's child knocked on the door. The moment Beatrice saw her she excused herself for a moment, placed her needlework in her seat and made her way to the doorway, talking quietly to the girl. Lydia and her cousin exchanged a look before the woman came back over to them.

"I'm afraid I'm not going to be an accommodating host right now," she said, locking her fingers together. "My son does not seem all that well and the physician has been summoned, for the nurse believes it could be a rash. I must be with him."

Lydia gasped and embraced her cousin. "That's terrible!" she exclaimed, horrified that the young child was ill. "Of course, you be with your son."

"I am sorry," she apologised.

"Nonsense!" Eleanor interrupted, putting a hand on her sister's arm. "We will leave, so that you may focus on my dear nephew. You must promise to update us on his progress."

"Of course," Beatrice said, before hugging each girl and disappearing out the room.

They summoned a servant to help prepare the carriage for their departure, and just after the physician had arrived, they were leaving and heading back to her aunt's. However, they were in better spirits, for they were still there long enough to hear that the illness that had befallen the child was quite common for infants and was nothing of concern. It warmed Lydia to know that the child was fine.

The carriage came to a stop outside her aunt's in the early evening. As the girls entered the home, a servant let them know that her aunt was entertaining guests and wanted them to join her. They made sure they looked presentable before they entered the dining room.

"I was not expecting you back," her aunt exclaimed as they appeared.

To Lydia's amusement, Hugh was sat at the table. There was an older woman to his left and am older man to his right who she presumed were his parents, then on the opposite side was an older woman and a younger man. She went to sit in the seat on the side that Hugh was sat on only for her aunt to stop her. "Dear, why don't you sit next to Mr. Fredrick?" she suggested, glancing at the man who on the opposite side.

She obeyed and walked around the table, making the man stand as she approached the chair and pull it out for her. She graciously sat down. "Thank you, sir," she said, glancing subtly at her cousin who had taken the seat she had been prevented from.

"It's a pleasure."

Lydia looked to her aunt who was smiling widely before nudging her cousin with her foot. They shared a smile as they were served dinner.