“I can take you to Alderley,” he said, pleased—as if the news was no more life-changing than that. Eliza supposed it was not. For they could have done it, without the fortune, together, and neither would money remove all the hardship ahead. Eliza’s choice in a husband would not be greeted with unequivocal approval: at the very least, a lifetime of stares and whispers awaited them, and Eliza suspected the Balfours’ displeasure at the paths she and Margaret had chosen—at the persons with who they were aligning—would be far more vocal.
“And at least we will be well-dressed,” Melville murmured, as if in direct response to Eliza’s thoughts. She smiled, twining her fingers through his and squeezing his hand in reply.
“We must go,” Caroline said gently.
Camden and Laura Place were both empty. Two carriages stood outside, loaded with bandboxes. One was bound for London, the other for Dover.
“I shall miss you, Caro,” Melville said, grasping her hand tightly.
“I should hope so,” Caroline said, but she touched her forehead very gently to his shoulder.
The moment felt unbearably private. Eliza and Margaret drew a little away.
“I shan’t say goodbye again,” Margaret said stoutly. “I do not wish my eyes to be puffy for the journey—but you will write?”
Eliza nodded, her chin wobbling. She held out her hand for Caroline to shake, as she approached, and Caroline knocked it away with a snort, pulling her instead into a tight embrace.
“Look after him for me, will you?” she whispered into Eliza’s ear.
“If you will do the same,” Eliza whispered back.
And they were gone. Leaving Eliza and Melville alone, at last. Melville turned to her, giving an extravagant bow and a superfluous flourish of his hand.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said. “I have prepared a great many things to say to you on the journey.”
“Why am I instantly concerned?” Eliza said, smiling. “I do hope they are not improper.”
“How can they be, when we are to be very properly chaperoned for the entire journey?” Melville said loudly to the street at large, throwing Eliza a very obvious wink.
They set off not ten minutes later, and Eliza leaned out of the carriage window to watch Camden Place as it faded from view. It had been the first place she had ever been truly, completely, incandescently happy. But like all the best things in life, one could not enjoy them in just the same way, forever.
I will come back, she promised Bath. Soon.
It would always be the most splendid city she had ever seen.
“Would you prefer St. Paul’s or St. Mary’s, for our wedding?” Melville asked her, as Bath too began to fade into the distance.
“I was wondering . . .” Eliza said, removing her eyes from the window and staring toward her fiancé. One might think, with all the many, many hours she had already spent gazing at him, that she would be tired of the view. She was not.
“You were wondering?”
“How difficult is it to source a special license?” Eliza asked. “You seem the sort of gentleman who would know such a thing.”
“The aspersions you are casting,” Melville said, “I care not for them.”
He regarded her, eyes twinkling and mouth smiling. If Eliza were to paint the scene, she would use only her warmest, brightest colors—but she would not. Some moments could only be lived.
“You do not want a grand occasion, with all the pomp and ceremony we can muster?” Melville asked.
“I have already had one wedding such as that,” Eliza said. “I would rather elope.”
“I shall have to consider the matter,” Melville said. “Perhaps, now I am to be the married Lord Melville, I might decide to become dreadfully proper and dull.”
“You dismay me,” Eliza said, biting her lip to hide her grin. “For now I am to be the married Lady Melville, I have made a very different decision.”
“Is my Lady Melville to be a very dashing creature?” Melville enquired politely.
“Oh, yes—dreadfully wild,” Eliza said. “You have my sympathies.”
Melville laughed, leaning forward to kiss the smile upon her face.
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Acknowledgments
Writing a second book is a very different beast to writing a first. Suddenly having real-life readers, real-life editors and a very real-life deadline has been bizarre and challenging and wonderful—and having the time and space to delve deeper into research has been the greatest joy. If you are ever passing through London and fancy seeing some Georgian art, do pay a visit to the fantastic—and free—Tate Britain, where I (under the expert and much-appreciated guidance of Sara Dibb) started my research journey, and if you are interested in learning about Britain’s colonial history and the experience of Indian people in Regency England, I cannot more highly recommend the brilliant books by Rozina Visram, Dr. Arup K. Chatterjee and William Dalrymple. I love novels, but the stories of the real people living through this period are far more complex and important than any fiction. I also feel hugely privileged to have spoken both to Ann Witheridge from London Fine Art Studios and to Dr. Arup K. Chatterjee from OP Jindal Global University, who answered my questions with such grace and generosity. All errors are of course mine, and any deviations from their expert counsel were made under the influence of a romantic imagination.
More time and space for writing this year did also make room for more self-doubt, too, and so my biggest thanks must be paid to my editors, Martha Ashby and Marie Michels, who guided me from first to last draft with an impossible amount of patience, humor and perception. It’s been a very fun honor collaborating with you, and I feel so lucky that, alongside my wonderful agent, Maddy Milburn (and every single glorious person at MM!), and publishing powerhouses Pam Dorman and Lynne Drew, I get to work with such a talented and fashionable editorial team. Big thanks must also go to Georgina Kamsika and Kati Nicholl for their insight and sharp eyes—they are hugely appreciated!
Next, I would love to thank the whole team at Pamela Dorman Books, Viking and Penguin, for all the shrewd, quick and highly skilled work that goes into publishing a book: thank you to Brian Tart, Andrea Schulz, Kate Stark, Mary Stone, Lindsay Prevette, Kristina Fazzalaro, Julia Falkner, Christine Choi, Paul Buckley, Libby VanderPloeg, Sabrina Bowers, Jeramie Orton, Matt Giarratano, Norina Frabotta, Chelsea Cohen and all the people in the supply chain who move heaven and earth to get my book everywhere it needs to be. Huge thanks to the book bloggers who put out so much joy with their reviews, it’s always such a delight connecting with you, and thank you also to the booksellers who continue to build such glorious spaces on our high street.