The Colonel's Ungovernable Governess : A Pride and Prejudice Vagary

Chapter Fifteen

The twins slept on the opposing seat: Their arms wrapped about each other. Odd as it would be to consider her own feelings on such things, Jocelyn was sorry to admit, she had never been as close to Andrew, as she had observed between Vincent and Victoria. Jocelyn knew the fault rested with her. She had always been a bit jealous of how her brother was the “blessed child,” the one who would secure her father’s barony, while, though being the eldest, she had no real value. In fact, even her marriage would cost her father a hefty dowry. “I imagine Annabelle must have felt something. similar,” she mumbled just as Mr. Jessie directed their carriage into yet another inn yard. This was the third one this night.

“I’ll change out the horses, miss,” he said. “The Lindales have horses kept here, for it be one of the larger inns in this area. I’ll be sending these forward once they be fed and watered and rested a bit.”

They had been on the road for nearly three hours and had yet to learn anything of a sighting of Annabelle and her gentleman friend. She and Mr. Jessie had been attempting to estimate where the pair might be stopping. Annabelle’s coach was a single horse carriage; therefore, the girl and whoever was driving the coach, likely the gentleman with whom Annabelle had eloped or, mayhap, he hired someone local to do the deed, would be required to stop more often than would she and the twins. She trusted Mr. Jessie to know the roads and the inns, but she doubted either Annabelle or this “Mr. Bartholomew” would be as fortunate.

“Might we have some biscuits?” Victoria asked.

“I shall see what is available,” Jocelyn assured. “It is still the middle of the night, so we must be grateful for what the innkeeper has available.”

“I should prefer to relieve myself,” Vincent stated.

“I shall ask Mr. Jessie to accompany you,” Jocelyn explained. “Permit me to learn what I might from the innkeeper first.”

Jocelyn started off for the inn. She despised being placed in this position. It was admirable that Lady Lindale attended her sick husband; yet, from what Jocelyn had been able to discover from the estate’s servants and her own observations, the woman’s children were feeling lost and ignored—set upon a sea too stormy for them to navigate alone. She was beginning to realize how blessed she had been and how selfish she had acted by leaving without notice.

“Yes, ma’am,” a sleepy older fellow said when she entered the inn. “May I be of service?”

“My daughter and her husband were traveling with us, but we had trouble with our carriage, and somehow we were separated. I was wondering if they had stopped here. I am attempting to estimate how far ahead they are. We are traveling so late because we just received word of the severe condition in which the family patriarch finds himself.”

The man eyed her suspiciously, but he responded in a necessary manner. “Young couple more than an hour earlier. Maybe closer to two hours. I heard the gent ask his driver if they be set for Yorkshire. He called the girl ‘Anna,’ I believe.”

“Ah— I am glad they are safe. I owe you for the charges my driver incurred for the horses, and I would be pleased to purchase whatever you might have available in the realm of food. I have two more children in my carriage.”

“Pardon my saying so, ma’am, but you do not appear old enough for so many,” he said with a lift of his brows.

“You have found me out,” she declared with a small chuckle to seal what she would say next. “I am Colonel Clarkson’s second wife, but I adore his children by Mrs. Mildred Clarkson. I am hoping to know my own children soon. That is, if our dear God is willing and thinks me up to the task.”

“We be ready when you are, ma’am,” Mr. Jessie said from somewhere near the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Jessie. Might you see Vincent has an opportunity to know the privy?” she responded. “I shall see to Victoria.”

“Yes, ’em.”

The innkeeper dropped his suspicious nature. “I’ve several boiled eggs in the cold cellar, cheese, and bread. Would that do?”

“Any cakes or biscuits?” she asked.

“I’ll check. Should I prepare a separate bag for you?

“No sense in multiple bags for my family,” she assured. “However, if you would prepare a separate one for my driver, that would be most helpful. While you do that, I shall see to my daughter and then return to pay you.”

Another quarter hour later, they were again on the road.

“Did you learn if Annabelle came this way?” Vincent asked.

Jocelyn swallowed the bite of egg she had taken before answering. “They are ‘more than an hour ahead of us’ according to the innkeeper. Perhaps closer to two hours.”

Vincent mused, “Even with how long it was for us to pack and leave, Annabelle is no farther ahead of us than she was when we left. Does that not mean we are gaining on her?”

“I fear I do not know the exact calculations and figures to determine if such is true, but your reasoning appears sound,” she confirmed.

“Thank you,” he said softly. It broke Jocelyn’s heart to think the boy had been made to believe himself incapable of strong opinions.

She set the egg and bread upon the seat. “I have something to discuss with you. I require your opinions.”

“Our opinions?” Victoria asked.

“Yes. Are you confident Annabelle said they were going to Scotland to marry?” Jocelyn inquired.

Even in the dark shadows inside the coach, she knew the girl frowned.

“Where else could Annabelle go to marry without Mama and Lord Lindale giving her permission?”

“Such makes excellent sense indeed. However, the innkeeper said he overheard ‘Mr. Bartholomew’ instruct his driver to continue on to Yorkshire.”

“Yorkshire?” Vincent questioned. “Why would they be returning to our father’s home?”

Victoria asked, “Could the innkeeper have erred?” To her brother, the girl said, “Likely Annabelle said something about being close to her home.”

Jocelyn did not agree, but she explained her reasoning, “What I do not understand is why now? Why did Annabelle return home to William’s Wood only to run off within a week of her arrival? If she wished so desperately to marry this particular gentleman, why not leave from Bath towards Gretna Green? Most assuredly, she and Mr. Bartholomew either came to a new relationship or renewed a previous one while still in Bath, for she and Miss Carlton were in Bath together. If I have it correct from the servants of several houses, Miss Carlton returned home in Annabelle’s carriage.” Jocelyn wished she had known this fact before the colonel left the estate, but their cook seemed to have come by that information when Annabelle came down to see the ducklings while Jocelyn was working with Victoria on the child’s French lessons. “The young man followed Annabelle to Lincolnshire, but was such planned?” she continued to voice her concerns aloud. “I am not convinced a marriage is part of the gentleman’s plan.”

“You think . . . Mr. Bartholomew . . . does not mean . . . to marry . . . our Annabelle?” Vincent asked. Evidently, the idea upset the child, for hesitations had reappeared in his speech, when moments earlier there were none. His speech pattern had proven to be a tool for the child to operate in an unsure world, providing him time to evaluate what he wanted to say before saying it.

Victoria protested, “Annabelle said they would marry.”

“I do not doubt your words, Victoria, nor Annabelle’s belief such is what is intended. Yet, my instincts say there is much more to this than we first believed.”

“What should . . . we do?” Vincent asked.

“We shall continue north as long as Annabelle’s trail tells us to do so. Yet, we must be prepared for other possibilities.”

“Is Uncle Edward . . . following?” Vincent asked. “I feel safer . . . when he is near.”

“As do I,” Jocelyn affirmed. “Your uncle is built to protect those he affects, and the colonel affects both of you, as well as Annabelle.”

“You, too,” Victoria declared.

Jocelyn prayed the child truly saw what Jocelyn did not. However, she said, “I am not part of your family, but I am confident the colonel would protect any in danger, including me.”

* * *

“Colonel!” Edward looked up to view his cousin’s approach. Darcy rode with his carriage driver, Mr. Farrin, though both were on horseback.

“How did you find me so quickly?” Edward asked.

“When she read your missive, Elizabeth insisted I come immediately. Mr. Farrin and I set out about seven of the clock.”

“Did Mrs. Darcy send Farrin to protect you?” Edward asked with a lift of his brows.

“My lovely wife says Farrin knows the roads in this part of the country better than I.” Darcy glanced to the man and grinned. “He is also known as a splendid shot, if necessary.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Women are always the more practical lot.”

“With that being true,” Darcy countered, “Elizabeth also said you likely left Maitland Manor without your breakfast. She charged me with feeding you.” He nodded to the road off to the left. “Farrin claims there is a passable inn about three miles along. We require a plan and such proves easier on a full stomach.”

Though Edward did not wish to “waste” the time it would take for him to eat and allow his horse water and food, he nodded his agreement. He knew Elizabeth Darcy to be a sensible woman, even in times of distress.

A half hour later, Darcy ordered a stew and an ale for each of them before sitting at the table. “I had already planned to call on you, even before your note arrived. Just a bit later in the morning. Elizabeth had insisted there was something ill at William’s Wood.”

“How would Mrs. Darcy know there was a crisis with the children?” Edward asked with a frown. “I understand how perceptive she is and how caring.”

“Someday you will understand that women ‘sense’ things that we men would not think possible, especially when they are with child,” Darcy responded with a grin.

“Congratulations, Darcy,” Edward said with genuine happiness for his cousin, but he was again being left behind. “I know you considered the possibility.”

“We had. The midwife confirmed Elizabeth’s symptoms. Even so, the babe will not arrive for many months. For now, you have a need of my services.”

“I appreciate your loyalty. Of all the foolish choices. Father will be beside himself with the future of Lindale’s family. My brother’s marriage to the former Lady Babcock was meant to save the Babcock children and their mother. Now, Lady Annabelle’s actions will destroy it all.”

Darcy waited for the food to be set before them before he responded. “Your note said the young man’s name was ‘Bartholomew.’ Is that not the family name for Mr. Jennings’s wife?”

“The wife of the previous Lord Babcock’s brother? Jennings’s nephew is called ‘Bartholomew.’” Edward felt as if he had been thunderstruck. He had been wondering why he did not know the young man’s family. He had thought the unknown fellow’s surname was “Bartholomew,” not the man’s Christian name. The fellow was, in truth, a Marksham. Bartholomew Marksham. “Are you suggesting this was a plan set in motion by Jennings to set aside his late brother’s family so he might assume the Babcock title?”

“It makes little sense,” Darcy admitted between bites of the stew, “for even Annabelle’s ruin could not set aside Lord Vincent’s claim to the earldom. I think, with or without Lindale, that you and your father should put in the necessary request to name Vincent the earl and the Matlock earldom his guardian. They may not permit Lindale to stand as guardian, especially if anyone learns of his continued ‘illnesses,’ but you could be made guardian or Matlock, with you as the secondary choice. The boy should theoretically have multiple guardians, for he has a variety of needs, but, if he is not named the earl soon, he remains in danger.”

Edward returned his mug to the table. “God, I pray Miss Lambert does not suspect what we do. The chit will chase Annabelle to Easingwold.”

“Do you wish me to attempt to intercept her?” Darcy asked. “Accounting for time for meals and changing out the horses, she and the twins must be somewhere in Yorkshire along the road towards Northumberland and the border.”

Edward thought Darcy’s suggestion the most practical choice, but an inner voice said his cousin had hit on an idea that spoke of the drama surrounding the Jennings family. “The twins are traveling with Miss Lambert. Could all this have been a ploy to entice Vincent ‘home’?”

“To do what?” Darcy said with a frown.

Edward scrubbed his face with his dry hands. “I do not know, and you are completely aware how much I despise a puzzle box with a missing piece.”

Darcy placed his spoon down. “It sounds as if you are suggesting we should divide and conquer. One of us should cut across Yorkshire to intercept Miss Lambert and the children and the other should call at Easingwold to learn if Lady Annabelle is at her father’s estate.”

“I suppose I am,” Edward declared with a heavy sigh. “I should go to Easingwold. Jennings will not permit you to learn if Annabelle is within. He will attempt to prevent my entrance, but I will then charge his nephew with kidnapping. They will be forced to produce Annabelle to prove she is there of her own will. After that, who knows what to expect?”

“In my opinion, Jennings’s family has no right to claim the manor house designated for the earl nor the estate associated with the Babcock earldom. Was not Jennings allocated an estate of his own? Your family may be required to move, at a minimum, Lord Vincent back into the estate.”

“By my ‘family’ you mean me,” Edward asserted.

“Who else might there be? The child will require a guardian who Jennings fears.” His cousin paused before saying, “You may be required to marry Miss Romfield sooner rather than later.”

“What happens if the lady refuses to accept the guardianship of the children?” Edward asked. “It is one thing to take on a husband, but quite another to assume the care of two children and a young girl on the threshold of womanhood and in a neighborhood where half the citizenry is loyal to Jennings.”

Darcy appeared to want to argue further, but he said, “I am to finding them on the North Road. If I learn the young Jennings twins are already on their way to the family estate, I will follow.”

“Send word if you must follow them towards Scotland,” Edward said as he stood. “Be safe, Darcy. I do not wish to stand before Mrs. Darcy while she dresses me down for permitting you to know harm.”

His cousin grinned. “You have never met a more delightful termagant than is Elizabeth Darcy when she is defending family. A more adorable scold cannot be found.”

“Someday I will tell her what you said of her.” Edward spoke his farewells and departed the inn, nagged by a feeling of loneliness he could not quite shake. He was not customarily jealous of Darcy, even with his cousin’s wealth, for Darcy had often been from step with society and depended on Edward to lead the way. Now, though, Fitzwilliam Darcy had assumed the superior position in their relationship, again, not because of his cousin’s vast fortune, but because Darcy had found a woman who made him a better man. Elizabeth Darcy assisted Darcy in becoming comfortable with the path he must travel in life. Being “comfortable” had never been Edward’s forte. He performed his duties to his family and his country, but he saw no future where he could know happiness. He would walk any path he chose alone. He may have a wife at his side, but would that lady truly hold him in esteem or would she simply covet the idea of one day being a countess?

* * *

“Are you assured Mr. Bartholomew is associated with the Jennings family?” Jocelyn asked the innkeeper’s wife. They were in Yorkshire, and the children were exhausted. When they had departed Lincolnshire, Jocelyn had thought perhaps they would overtake Mr. Bartholomew and Annabelle, but they had heard nothing of the pair until this inn, about halfway across Yorkshire. The idea of continuing was proving a daunting one. The children sat at the same table as she, but their heads were down in enervation.

“Known the young fellow since he be a boy,” the woman declared. “He’s mother’s sister, that be Miss Carolyn Bartholomew, marry the youngest Jennings brother, Mr. Philip. I’s have an aunt in those parts. She be sickly and requirin’ someone to tend her durin’ the day when me uncle be out in the fields, and I lived with her nigh on seven years before she passed. The Bartholomew family who married into the Jennings’s one havin’ themselves no title, but the father be a landed gent. The younger Bartholomew girl set her sights first on the older brother, the earl, but he’d be already engaged to Lady Elaine. Cant recall her family name. I don’t know much more, but I did hear once that the second Bartholomew sister married herself a baron, or mayhap it was a baronet. Marcum or something similar. But when her time came to deliver, she upped and named her son ‘Bartholomew.’ My aunt wrote me about the fuss with the boy’s name, for some thought the boy not belong to the lady’s husband.”

Jocelyn slid a coin across the table. Once the woman returned to her duties, she asked Victoria, “Please speak truthfully of where Annabelle told you she was going.”

Victoria refused to raise her head, but her body tensed with an apparent wish to escape.

Jocelyn placed her hand on the girl’s back “No one is angry with you, but I do require the truth. Otherwise, we will claim a room at this inn and wait until the colonel comes to fetch us.”

Vincent implored, “What did Annabelle tell you, Victoria?”

Tears skirted down the girl’s cheeks. “Annabelle said—Lord Lindale was going—to die soon,” Victoria said through her sobs. “She said she—was going to—Babbington Hall—to reclaim it—for all of us.”

“The problem with that explanation is Annabelle is not old enough to serve as Vincent’s guardian. She cannot reclaim the family estate. Only Vincent and his appointed guardian can do so.” Jocelyn remained silent for several minutes, choosing what was best for them to do. “If the innkeeper will let us a room, we will remain here tonight and make our decision on how to proceed in the morning. We are all exhausted by the miles and the unknown. Mr. Jessie requires rest, as do the horses. With rest, we shall have clearer minds. Perhaps the colonel will discover us and make the appropriate decisions for us.”