After visiting Milan, Verona, and Venice, they settled down for the winter in Florence in a sixteenth-century palazzo fronting the Piazza del Signorini. Inspired by the sights of Florence, Lizzy tried her hand at painting watercolors, with Georgiana as her instructor. However, she was so unhappy with the results, she “donated” all of her canvasses to a fellow Englishman and painter when the party moved on to Rome and Naples.
After an early bout of homesickness, Lizzy eagerly embraced her nomadic existence with her “beloved.” Lizzy was a faithful diarist from the time she married Will. Her entries also recorded the intimacies of the newly married couple from the earliest days of their marriage. When Will and Lizzy made love, she made note of it by referring to her husband as “my visitor.” Will was a frequent visitor.
The Laceys’ stay in Naples was particularly interesting. The Duchess of Devonshire had provided the couple with an introduction to the British Envoy to the Court of Naples, Sir William Hamilton, an amateur vulcanologist, whose beautiful wife was the famous, or infamous, Emma Hamilton, the future mistress of the hero of Trafalgar, Lord Horatio Nelson. I was scanning the pages for interesting entries, when one caught my eye:
14 April — Lady Hamilton never fails to amuse. Tonight, by request of the King, she posed in one of her attitudes as Cleopatra, ending with the Queen of Egypt’s death scene. With little more than a few shawls, including one that served as an asp, Lady Hamilton portrayed the grieving queen taking her life after learning that her lover, Mark Antony, was dead. I found myself drawn into her tableau and was deeply touched when at last Cleopatra closed her eyes. However, Will was offended by the suggestive nature of her poses but did not object when I struck a similar pose that evening after we had retired.
I was so glad that Lizzy and Will had married before the Victorian Age. Two generations later, a woman would never have written about the intimacies of marriage, but it was obvious these two lovers complemented each other in so many ways.
I was about to type out the entry regarding Lizzy and Will’s journey to Mt. Vesuvius, where Will burnt the soles of his boots on the lava, when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, I nearly broke Beth’s ribs I hugged her so tightly.
“I thought you might be going dotty typing all those diaries, so I decided to come to London for a few days to see how you were getting on,” Beth said, putting down her suitcase. We went into the morning room, and Beth rang for Andrews. Andrews entered the room with a look of disapproval, believing I was the one who had summoned him. When he saw Beth, his whole demeanor changed.
“Andrews, is it possible to have some sandwiches served in here on a tray? Whatever is in the larder will do.” This was the Beth I rarely saw, but when I did, it was apparent she had grown up in a household full of servants and was quite comfortable in giving orders.
I told Beth I had come up with an idea that could possibly make everyone happy. A timeline showing events taking place in the lives of the Lacey family, along with transcriptions from Lizzy’s diary, would be juxtaposed with quotations from Pride and Prejudice.
After thinking for a few minutes, Beth said she liked it, and after finishing the history, she hoped I would continue working on the diary “at my leisure.” I didn’t say anything about going back to the States.
I told Beth how Lizzy called Will “her visitor” whenever they made love. “They were really and truly in love, just like you and Jack.”
Smiling, she said, “I can take a hint. But let’s wait for Andrews to bring the sandwiches. He is positively Victorian, and he wouldn’t appreciate hearing a discussion of my love life.”
Andrews brought in a tray with cucumber sandwiches and coffee. After making sure he was safely out of the room, Beth said, “Actually, at first, it wasn’t Jack whom I was attracted to but his brother, who was exactly my age. You’ve seen pictures of Tom at Crofton Wood, but they don’t do him justice. He had these incredible blue eyes and the most engaging smile. He was also a comedian, which made him everyone’s favorite.
“When I was about sixteen, Tom had invited me to go to a dance in Stepton. Matthew dropped the two of us and Billy, the footman, off at the dance hall. About an hour later, Jack came in with some friends and asked me to dance. He was most unpleasant.” Straightening her skirt, she continued, “He said the local girls had been waiting all week to come to the dance to show off in front of the boys, and then I had walked in and hogged the limelight.”
I couldn’t help but wince. Apparently, Jack didn’t approve of masters and minions mixing.
“I was terribly hurt because the thought had never entered my mind. After I had a few dances with the local boys, Jack offered to take me home. I had no choice because, if I rang the house, they would know what I had got up to. I was really quite intimidated by Mr. Crowell, and I didn’t want to have a lecture about above stairs and below stairs not mixing. When I got out of the car, I said to Jack, ‘You don’t like me very much, do you?’ And do you know what he said? ‘If anything, I like you too much.’ From that time on, I certainly paid more attention to him, but nothing exciting happened until the motor tour.”
“I’m surprised your mother let you go.”
“No more than I. But I didn’t know until later how much maneuvering my grandmother had done behind the scenes. We were a couple of weeks into the trip when we arrived in Brighton. While Reed was busy sketching, Jack and I went for long walks. Finally, he kissed me. There was nothing chaste about these kisses. We just about devoured each other. When we returned to Montclair, he acted as if we hadn’t been at each other for weeks. But before I knew it, he was on his way to Manchester, and I was off to Cambridge.
“At our annual Christmas tea, I slipped Jack a note asking him to meet me at an abandoned cottage the following day. I nearly froze waiting for him, but he did come. He was very agitated, and we had a violent argument. He said something to the effect that if we were ever to be together, I would have to be willing to give up Montclair and everything that went with it. I told him I would come into some money of my own from a trust fund when I turned twenty-one the following year. This is what he said to that, ‘Christ, would you listen to yourself? Someone who is going to come into some money from a trust fund shouldn’t be sneaking around with the butler’s son.’ And he stormed off.
“After the Lenten term, Jack came home, as he always did, but made no attempt to see me. Then one day my mother sent me to find Clyde, who was not quite normal, but who was capable of exercising the horses. Often, when out on his rides, he’d find a nice shade tree, tie up the horse, and have a lie-down. When I got to the stables, Jack was mucking out the stalls, filling in for one of the grooms. He asked if I was looking for him, and I said ‘yes.’ And he said, ‘What do you want?’ And I answered, ‘I want you to love me.’
“‘I already do. What else do you want?’ He said it just like that. ‘What else do you want?’
“I told him that I wanted him to marry me, and he dropped his rake and asked, ‘Have you gone off your head?’ I stood my ground and said, ‘No, I’m just in love.’
“I don’t know why he finally gave in, but we had a most pleasant afternoon. We met whenever we could, usually at an abandoned cottage at the far end of the property. But then he had to go back to Manchester, and I had to go through the motions of my third season. My mother was nearly in a panic because it was believed if a girl was not married by the third season, something was wrong with her, or why had she not made a match?