Chapter 39 Return to London 1: Past Dreams

This year's Christmas falls on the last Saturday of December. The Gardners plan to return to London on the Monday of Christmas week to ensure they have enough time to complete their business and prepare for a warm and hearty family Christmas.

In the last two days before leaving, the Bennett family once again experienced the level of busyness that they experienced on the eve of the ball.

Hesel's clothing and luggage had been mostly packed a few days in advance, and the lack of business in Longbourn and Meryton had not added much to the luggage during the past few months.

But her sister Mrs. Bennett could not bear her sister's insistence on making everyone's luggage overwhelmed, so she persistently tried to get her brothers and sisters to take Mrs. Morley's homemade jelly, cheese, air-dried pheasant, smoked ham, cider and jam, as well as Jane's hand-sewn cushions and handkerchiefs.

Heather ruthlessly refused all the food and only chose a kitten-shaped pillow as a souvenir. Mrs. Gardner was not so "lucky" and was forced to empty an entire empty box specifically for these local specialties.

The echinacea plant in the utility room had already sprouted thin green shoots. Heather carefully wrapped them one by one in coarse cloth, preparing to put them under the seats in the carriage and take them to London.

Mary leaned quietly against the door frame, watching her aunt's busy back, and a feeling of reluctance gradually spread in her heart.

Three months ago, her aunt had appeared from nowhere like a fairy godmother in a fairy tale. From that moment on, Mary Bennett's story had taken a turn. Now, with the fairy godmother gone, and even the flower pots about to disappear, perhaps her life would once again return to its dull, uninteresting trajectory.

Heather turned around and saw that her niece, who was always calm and rational, had a rare sad expression on her face. She knew that she was reluctant to leave.

Heather calmly continued to work, a sly glint hidden under her slightly drooping eyelashes. "What's wrong? Are you so sad? Do you want to go to London with me?"

Mary shook her head heavily, her eyes widening as she forced back the tears. She feigned indifference, saying, "No, Jane's almost recovered. She'll definitely go to London. It wouldn't be nice for me to go with her to my aunt's." She came over, picked up a piece of cloth, and helped pack the pottery basin. "Come visit us at Longbourn next year when you're free. In the meantime, write to me often!"

"Okay." Hazel frowned, her face etched with grief. "I went to such lengths to convince your mother to let you come with me to London, to keep me company. Turns out you don't want to go at all."

"Ah? Ah! Why didn't Mom tell me!" Mary put the basin down in a panic and looked over with her big round eyes in shock. "Really, Auntie! Are you kidding? Can I really go to London with you? Does Aunt Gardner agree?"

Heather nervously pulled the jumping girl away from the row of precious plants. "Of course it's true. I agree to it, because we will only live in Gracechurch Street for half a month at most, and then we will move to our new home. You can live in whichever room you want. Besides, I have discussed it with your mother, and you can live with me until you make other plans."

"Ahhhh!" Mary cried out, laughing and crying. She suddenly threw herself over and buried herself in her aunt's not-so-large but very warm embrace, then quietly shed tears of happiness.

"Are you really that happy?" Heather touched her hair that was blown up like a little lion.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Mary nodded desperately. She whispered in Heather's ear, "Mom likes Lydia and Jane the best, Dad likes Lizzie the best. Auntie, tell me in secret, do you like me the best?"

Heather blinked, "Shh!"

The night before leaving, before going to bed, Heather knocked on Elizabeth's door.

"Hey, you're all still awake. How's everything, Jane? Tomorrow's a tough trip."

"Aside from the occasional cough, all other symptoms have disappeared." Jane was extremely grateful to her aunt for helping her realize her wish to travel to London as soon as possible when she needed it most. "The bottle of medicine you gave me was truly miraculous. It more than doubled my recovery. Without it, I would never have been able to leave with you."

Heather was also surprised that the cold tincture made from Echinacea was so effective. She didn't know whether it just happened to suit Jane's condition and constitution, or whether it was effective for everyone.

"Then when we get to London, remember to write down in detail the changes in your body over the past few days, as well as the timing and dosage of the medications you took. This will serve as my first experimental record."

Jane agreed without hesitation.

Heather turned to Elizabeth again, and this time she hesitated, not knowing where to begin.

Elizabeth and Jane sat side by side on the bed and looked at her curiously.

"Well, actually, what I want to talk about is Officer Wickham. He's not in Meryton recently because of personal matters, but I think he might be back soon. I know you admire him, Lizzie, but I still want to remind you to be careful."

"Mr. Wickham?" Elizabeth obviously didn't expect that this was what Hazel wanted to say.

"Yes, you heard correctly. In fact, Major Brown told me something before he left Longbourn that day. Before he left, he learned from his superiors that Wickham had privately reported him for hiring people to beat up Lieutenant Davis because of a personal grudge between the two. Wickham's excuse was that he had personally seen Major Brown carrying the unconscious Lieutenant Davis out of the woods behind the mountain."

Heather told Elizabeth the whole story of how Davis had followed her in the back hills. Elizabeth looked solemn and could not speak for a long time.

"I don't know what motivated him to report it, but Major Brown told me that he and Wickham's immediate superior were competing for a promotion at the time, and Wickham's leave of absence was to be taken to Sawley, where he had previously incurred a large debt. Elizabeth, you're so smart, I believe you should understand how unusual it is for so many coincidences to come together."

"Will Wickham make use of this matter to affect my aunt?" Elizabeth immediately became worried.

Hazel didn't particularly care about this. "He can't do anything, and there's no real evidence. In fact, Major Brown's superiors didn't take it completely seriously. Perhaps they were just trying to use this incident to warn him when necessary. But Elizabeth, Wickham is definitely not as upright as you think. And if even you can't tell the difference, how can your two little sisters screen out officers who are not worth associating with?"

Elizabeth had actually lost her trust in Wickham a long time ago. As she got to know Darcy better and combined with her own observations, she could easily spot Wickham's inconsistency between his words and actions. But now, she was completely wary of him.

"Don't worry, Auntie. I'll be careful with him and try to keep an eye on Lydia and Kitty."

Heather hugged her and said, "Good night. When I get settled in London, I'll bring you over to play."

The next morning at eight o'clock, it was time to leave.

Mrs. Bennet hugged her sister, wished her well, and asked the two girls to take good care of themselves and write back when they had time. She obeyed her sister's instructions and did not mention Mr. Bingley at the time of parting, in exchange for an encouraging smile and a promise to send her a present.

Elizabeth was reluctant to part with Jane, as this would make the already boring winter even more unbearable.

But the saddest person was Lydia. She gave Mary a farewell hug, but sincerely wished that she could exchange identities with Mary. She hoped that it would be she who went to the city to have fun, and it would be Mary who stayed behind to face the tutor.

Mary gave Lydia a look that told her to fend for herself and promised to use her saved pocket money to buy her a fashion magazine and send it back to Longbourn next month.

"goodbye!"

"goodbye!"

The wheels rolled over the wet soil, leaving the familiar country road behind inch by inch. The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the church spire in the distance gradually blurred into a gray silhouette.

Heather gradually fell asleep in the rhythmic swaying of the carriage. It was a very long dream, a dream that took her to the blurred boundary of her memory.

That winter was as cold as the blade of a guillotine. The Seine River was covered with a rare thin layer of ice, but it was not a clean, pure color, but a leaden, dead silence.

Looking out the car window, the mansions in the Saint-Germain district were tightly closed, giving no sense of life. But it was better than the city center, at least there were no red slogans covering the walls and ragged homeless people hanging around in the corners.

The woman in the carriage stretched out her long black nails, pried open the window curtain, and looked out. At the door of the last mansion at the end, a well-dressed gentleman squatted before an equally well-dressed young master, earnestly giving him instructions. She glanced at him, lost interest, sneered, and lowered the curtain.

The man came up quickly. He didn't say much, but gently told the driver that they could set off. The road was slippery due to the snow, so he must pay attention to safety.

"You look very happy, Earl Lawrence." The woman casually took out bright red lipstick and applied a thick layer on her lips. The overly heavy makeup made her delicate face look a lot more tacky.

"Of course I'm happy, Heather." Earl Laurence took out four first-class tickets and handed them to her. "Look, you can go home soon. Are you happy?"

Heather had no intention of answering the call. She just looked at the chaos on the street boredly, not knowing what she was thinking.

Earl Lawrence withdrew his hand without a care, brushed off the snow, and continued, "My son will recite an English poem today. It's from Burns's Auld Lang Syne. I think he's quite clever. Your sister would definitely like him if she saw him. But why hasn't your sister sent any letters in recent years? I remember when we first got married, she was very concerned about your life in France."

Heather slowly raised her eyes, her delicate eyebrows slightly raised, as if she was watching some amusing and clumsy performance.

"My sister? You know, she only likes the real money and a blood-related nephew. In my reply, the only thing I can boast about is my considerate husband and luxurious life. She doesn't want to hear about that."

Earl Lawrence put aside the smile he had been wearing and stared coldly at the unscrupulous woman opposite him.

Heather was unafraid, staring back without dodging or evading. She half-leaned against the cushions behind her, looking up, yet her posture clearly conveyed both defiance and indifference.

Count Lawrence looked away irritably. "You have to understand that no matter what, we are all in this together. I can't leave, and neither can you. The Jacobins are in power, and they won't let the Lawrence family go. As long as you still bear the title of Mrs. Lawrence, do you think they will let you go? I've been planning this for ten years. As long as you cooperate, we can continue to live a good life in England."

Heather didn't say a word, she just withdrew her gaze and continued to look out the window.

To Earl Lawrence, this was the same signal of compromise and truce as every time before. He sighed, put on the mask of a gentle and honest man again, and gently placed the ticket on Heather's knees.

"Don't worry, believe it or not, I'm not someone without a conscience. I took advantage of you, but after the job is done, I'll give you the compensation you deserve. After everything calms down, you can do whatever you want."

The carriage stopped at the entrance of a modest mansion on the Champs-Élysées, and Count Laurence was the first to get out. He always walked with his head lowered and his posture slightly hunched, trying to avoid eye contact with those around him, like a fool absorbed in his hobbies.

Heather sat in the car for a long time before finally getting out. The snow was getting heavier, and the maid caught up with her from behind and put a heavy cloak on her, leaving only the big black skirt swaying in the wind.

"Do you want to go back to London, Reina?"

"If Madam wants to go back, I'll follow her. But can we really go back?"

"Of course we can go back, but there are others who can't."

The black carved door slammed shut, leaving only a neat string of footprints on the long street, which were soon buried by the fresh snow.

"Ma'am, wake up, we're almost there!"

Heather suddenly opened her eyes and saw Lena pushing her gently with excitement. The connection between the scenes in front of her made her unable to tell whether it was a dream or reality.

Heather looked out in confusion, seeing an identical face reflected in the glass. She brushed her fingertips across the thin brows, which showed no trace of worry. Perhaps the face before her was incapable of producing that tired yet determined sneer.

The carriage stopped, and the inertia made her lean forward for a moment. When she looked up again, she saw another face outside the window.

The man bent down slightly and raised his hand to knock on the glass. Snow particles sparkled among his golden hair and then touched the corners of his slightly raised lips.

Heather stared at his lips and couldn't react for a moment.

He repeated it slowly again, and this time, Heather finally understood it slowly.

Lancaster said:

Welcome back to London.