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The carriage made its way to the Portsmouth harbor. Nestled between the naval ships was a small boat. Elizabeth smiled. They had rented a cottage on the Isle of Wight for the summer. A few servants had traveled ahead of them to set up the place, but no other family would be traveling with them, which was a relief.
“Let me get your bags, Mrs. Bingley,” the man at the dock said.
“Hurry up, Charles,” she called out behind her. “Tide waits for no man, you know.”
“I was just thanking the driver, I’m here, Elizabeth,” he said.
“It’s time and tide, you know, Mr. Bingley,” the man said. “Of course, nearly everyone forgets that part.”
“Oh, of course,” Elizabeth laughed. “I suppose they do.”
“Well, you two have a nice trip to the Island,” he called out as the boat was readied for the journey.
“I’ve never been to the Island before,” Elizabeth observed as the boat pulled away from the dock.
“Neither have I,” Bingley replied. “But I’ve heard it’s lovely.”
“Every warm shore is lovely, don’t you think?”
“I suppose that’s true. But it should be less exciting than Brighton, don’t you think?”
Elizabeth let out a groan at that memory. “No, I believe I have no interest in returning to Brighton again.”