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

Chapter Twenty-Two

Edward waited in the shadows, along with several men from the local militia. They watched the few people boarding the ship meant to set sail to eastern Europe. Realizing he could not do it all himself, he had asked for assistance from a militia colonel, and the man had agreed to permit Edward to employ some of his soldiers in obtaining information on ships and the Jennings family. Therefore, Edward had sent riders to all the possible ports on the English coastline, as well as to the first few ports on the Thames to ask of possible European-bound ships, but he was frustrated to learn nothing that would serve him in this matter, until the last rider returned with the information he required.

“A man and his wife and two children, sir. Staying at a small inn before you reach Tilbury.” Edward placed a number of coins in the man’s hand and thanked the colonel in charge and was off once again.

Late yesterday, after confirming what the militia lieutenant had provided, he had called on yet another local militia commander. Once he explained the situation as a man attempting to kill his brother’s son, the lieutenant-colonel was happy to assist him. Now, he waited for Jennings to make an appearance: He must apprehend the man and return to Yorkshire. The boy would never rest easy as long as his uncle was free, and Edward knew that Jennings would not soon abandon his madness.

“Colonel,” the man on his left whispered, and Edward turned to view Jennings walking behind his wife and children, as if he meant to use them as a shield. Edward supposed if Jennings was willing to kill his brother’s only son, he would not hesitate to use his own children to protect his life. Jennings was looking left and right, as well as over his shoulder.

“Hold,” he whispered when one of the men tensed in anticipation. “Steady on.”

As Jennings’s party crossed before them, Edward held his place in a small circle of empty barrels, stacked two high. At length, assured it was safe to do so, he ordered, “Now!” Rising up from his haunches, he strode forward to catch Jennings from behind. He placed a strong arm across the man’s throat and tightened his grip. Jennings bucked and kicked, attempting to be free, but Edward was strong, and his boots absorbed most of the man’s wildly executed blooters. The other soldiers encircled Jennings’s family and stood by while Edward wrestled the man into submission.

“A bit of a care!” he ordered Lieutenant Matthews. Immediately the man removed his pistol from the woman and her children and aimed it at Jennings’s head. “Should I order the bullet Matthews means to deliver to your head or to your heart?” he grunted as he continued to wrestle Jennings into submission.

Immediately, Jennings froze.

“Keep the gun on him, Matthews, and be accurate in the placement of the bullet,” Edward instructed as he wrenched Jennings’s hands behind the man’s back to secure them with a rope he had carried about his own neck.

“Aye, sir.”

“You have no right!” Jennings protested.

“I have every right as a colonel in the King’s Royal Army and as one of the guardians of the rightful Lord Babcock.” He tied the knots as tight as he could make them; then, he looked to where the others secured Mrs. Jennings and the lady’s children.

Jennings did the first respectful thing he had done when he begged, “My wife and children are no part of this. Permit them their freedom.”

“Such is not for me to decide,” Edward declared as he caught Jennings’s arm to lead him towards where a wagon awaited them. “The law will address your sins and theirs. It does not seem fair to me to permit Mrs. Jennings her freedom, while her sister and Marksham’s children are not permitted a like forgiveness.”

Edward tugged the man along beside him to secure Jennings in the back of the wagon. “Let us load them and the bags in the back. Matthews, if you would, have someone fetch the horses. We must set out for London to turn this family over to the proper authorities to oversee their case. Your commander has presented you permission for two days’ leave, meaning you will not be required back until Monday noon. For your assistance, I have promised you a proper room and meals for your trouble. Let us be on with it.”

He sighed heavily. Though he should have been more aware of the danger the boy was in, he had captured all the culprits in the matter. Even if, God forbid, Miss Lambert did not survive, he had found retribution in her name.

* * *

Her brother and Vincent knocked on her door shortly after the midday meal. Andrew ignored the fact her eyes were closed, but she heard Vincent order, “Wait! She is asleep.” Jocelyn remained very still to listen in on their conversation.

“Joce will not mind. She is a good egg,” Andrew declared. She could hear Andrew rummaging in the nearby drawer of her night stand. Evidently, her brother still wished to view the bullet that had struck her.

“Your sister is ill,” Vincent countered. “She is brave. Nearly as brave as is the colonel.” The pair stood together looking at her. Though she could not view them, she could feel their eyes on her. “My sister Victoria says the colonel affects your sister. That means he loves her.”

Jocelyn wanted to ask how Victoria could know such a thing, but she concentrated on not moving.

“My sister was supposed to marry the colonel. My mother’s aunt suggested the match to her brother, who is the colonel’s father,” Andrew explained. “Is this it?” he asked Vincent. “It is so small.”

Vincent declared. “It went through her shoulder, striking the bone, then exited to hit me. I was on the ground. They think it struck one of the paving stones and split.” The boy hummed under his breath, as he often tended to do when he was considering something important. “Then your sister will be my aunt. I like her as my governess, though. She treats me as if I am important to her.”

She heard Andrew close the drawer again before he said, “If Jocelyn is your aunt, she would have more say in your education. Though, knowing my sister, she will have a say even if no one asks her opinion.”

“At least your sister speaks with intelligence,” Vincent reasoned. “My sisters always speak nonsense. Dances and calling cards.” Although Jocelyn could not view Vincent’s reaction, she suspected he shivered in revulsion or made a gagging motion.

Andrew laughed. “Jocelyn likes those things also.” Her brother sighed heavily. “Could we not see the horses anyway, without her permission? I heard Mr. Darcy say both his driver and yours are in the stable, now that the man who shot my sister has been transported to the city of York.”

Vincent paused longer than necessary before he responded. She knew the boy was weighing all the possibilities. “I suppose she will not mind if I am with you. However, not too long. I must finish my conjugations and my reading. I promised her I would return.”

“You always keep your promises to Jocelyn?” Andrew asked as they started away.

“Your sister keeps her word to me,” Vincent stated in firm tones, so characteristic of the child.

A long pause followed before Andrew added, “With me also.” When she could hear their voices in the hall, Jocelyn opened her eyes and smiled. Her future was clearer than it had been in many a year.

* * *

Edward knocked on the back door of Darcy House. He had thought to stay in his father’s London house, but it had been several months since his parents had been in London, and he knew the house was essentially closed up; whereas, Darcy had been absent a matter of weeks.

“Colonel!” Mr. Thacker said when he responded to the knock. “Welcome, sir. I apologize. I did not hear your knock above stairs.”

“I did not bother with the street door,” he confessed as he stepped into the warm kitchen. A delicious smell filled the room, and his stomach growled. “Might I bother you with my presence this evening? I shan’t be in London long. I must speak again to the Middlesex magistrate tomorrow and then I return to Yorkshire.”

Mr. Thacker directed him further into the room, accepting Edward’s gloves and hat and sword. “Please come in and take in the heat. Should I see to your horse or carriage, sir?”

“I left my horse with Darcy’s grooms,” he admitted. “Just a place to rest my head and perhaps something to eat would be wonderful. I am exhausted.”

Mr. Thacker sent a maid to set a fire in the grate of the room Edward customarily occupied at Darcy House. “Would you care to eat in the morning room, sir?”

“If it is not too much of an inconvenience or too upsetting of your customary gathering, I would sit at your table, ma’am,” he addressed the cook.

“I have a stew and an apple pie, sir. If that would please you.”

“They sound delicious. It has been since early morning since I have last eaten,” he explained.

“Here, sir. Take this seat,” the woman said. “Susan, retrieve the butter and that loaf of bread.”

“Thank you, everyone. I have been on the road for nearly a week, and there is still much to do before I can return north. I appreciate your kindness.”

“Were the master and mistress well when you last saw them?” Mr. Thacker asked.

“Very much so,” Edward said as he relaxed for the first time in many days. “By the time Mr. Darcy and I reached Lincolnshire and my brother’s estate, young Master Bennet had decided it was time to take his first steps.”

“Splendid,” Darcy’s cook said. “We all wondered if he might do so soon.”

“Yes,” Edward said as the tension drained from his shoulders. “All those at William’s Wood had made bets as to whether Darcy would have happy tears in his eyes or not. Those who bet he would held bragging rights. The boy even walked into my waiting arms. I am pleased to view my cousin finally knowing happiness.”

“As are we all, sir,” Mr. Thacker declared.

“Oh, and there is another important point of note. The midwife has confirmed that Mrs. Darcy is again with child. Your master is beyond himself with glee.”

Later, as he crawled in the bed that evening, Edward made the only decision that made sense for him. “I do not know with confidence that the lady has survived or not, but my heart says she has. I cannot think to marry Miss Romfield when my destiny is marked by Miss Lambert’s hand. As I have told my cousin, I will accept Darcy’s offer to purchase another commission. If my father objects and refuses us lodging, I am confident Darcy will assist us as he has indicated. Some way and in some manner, the lady and I can survive. I am able to support a wife without my father’s hand on my shoulder. Like it or not, eventually, the earldom will be mine. I can make Miss Lambert a countess and my children part of the aristocracy without my father controlling my life.”

With a new determination, Edward forced himself to sleep. He had another long day ahead of him tomorrow. Several long days, in fact, but for the first time since his father’s edict, his heart felt lighter.

By the time he reached Middlesex the next morning, the magistrate had had “quite enough” of Philip Jennings’s rantings and ravings. “I mean to place him where I cannot hear him again, at least until he must appear at Old Bailey. I will send out some of my men to interview Mr. Darcy, the young earl, and the lad’s sisters. They will also take Mr. Marksham into custody. Hopefully, he will repeat his story to me if he means to save his mother and sisters.”

“I hope so, as well,” Edward said as he picked up his hat and gloves. “If I know my cousin, Mr. Darcy has moved Marksham to a safer place. Most likely to York, but your men can determine that when they question him. Just advise whoever comes to call on Darcy and the boy that the child is exceptionally intelligent, but a bit hesitant when speaking to strangers. Without a father to guide him, he is somewhat awkward around people he does not know. Lord Vincent does respond well with Darcy, as well as with his governess, Miss Lambert, near.”

“Every boy requires a father’s hand on his shoulder,” the magistrate said. “Very proud of my own lad. Have you children, colonel?”

“Not yet, but I hope to soon. There is a lady . . .”

“I can recognize your affection for the woman in the tone of your voice when you consider her. I wish you well, sir.”

“My cousin Darcy and I will be available if you require our testimony in this matter. We both witnessed the manipulations Jennings enacted against his late brother’s family, as well as the attack on Miss Lambert and the theft from the estate.”

“Greed and jealousy,” the man declared. “Every crime is rooted in one or the other or both.”

A few hours later, Edward was again stepping down from his horse before Romfield Hall. “Give him some water and a cup of oats if you would.” He tossed the stable boy, who had run out to assist him, a coin. “I shan’t be long.”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy, lead the horse towards the stables, as Edward shored up his resolve and released the knocker. He counted to fifty before the same butler as before answered the door. “Colonel Fitzwilliam for Lady Romfield and Miss Romfield.” He would deliver his refusal to both so there was no expectation he would change his mind.

“I apologize, Colonel, but the master and mistress are away from the manor. Even the young master is not within nor at school. There was some mention of a family situation, but I cannot speak of the nature of what occurred.”

“And Miss Romfield?” he asked suspiciously.

“Also not in residence, sir.”

“May I inquire how long the Romfields have been absent from the estate?”

“The master finally arrived from Europe some nine days back, which greatly eased her ladyship’s mind. Then they received a letter. Two letters, actually, and chaos erupted, for they were called away.”

“And Miss Romfield was already absent before this family emergency occurred?” he asked suspiciously. He thought maybe the girl was as set against this agreement as was he and meant to avoid him.

“All I am permitted to say, sir, is Miss Romfield is not at the manor.”

Edward swallowed his frustrations. He wished the business settled. “If and when the Romfields return, speak to them of my call. Explain that either my father, Lord Matlock, or I will call again to make our explanations.” He wanted to add “our excuses,” but such would not be proper.

As he left the manor, he strode to the stable to reclaim his horse. Whatever the ‘situation’ the Romfields had was their problem, and, perhaps, his father’s and his Aunt Catherine’s, but no longer his. He was going “home.” Wherever Miss Lambert dwelt would be his “home.”

* * *

“Where do you suppose he is?” Jocelyn asked. Her parents had retired to their quarters after the midday meal and with assurances she was not overextending herself. Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy had taken Vincent and Andrew upon a ride across the estate. Mr. Jessie was to ride with them so each boy would have someone along beside them in case the horses chosen for the boys did not like the children’s less firm hold on the reins.

Mrs. Darcy was sitting on the floor, rolling a small ball back and forth to Bennet. The woman looked to Jocelyn and grinned. “I suppose the ‘he’ refers to my cousin Fitzwilliam.”

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. “It was your assumption that the colonel and I would suit, so do not pretend you did not understand my question.”

Mrs. Darcy scooped her son up and planted a kiss on the boy’s cheek before sitting him before her once more. “The colonel was near Norfolk three days ago and was to chase Mr. Jennings towards Kent. He did not know Philip Jennings’s exact location, which means he must investigate each port large enough to accommodate such a ship along the Kentish coastline and, perhaps, along the estuary and the Thames itself. Then, after he captures the man, he would be required to escort Jennings to London for the man to be held for trial. It would take him three, perhaps four days to travel this far inland from London, and such is assuming he must not first check in with Captain Carlson. The colonel does still hold duties to the army. Yet, I am confident he will send word if such is so.”

“Another five, perhaps six days, then,” Jocelyn calculated in her head.

“Yes, and Mr. Darcy must return to Pemberley for a few days. He is considering taking Vincent with him so the boy may view the fields and the tenant farms so Vincent will better understand what my husband has ordered for Babbington Hall in the boy’s name. As it is already May, adjustments must be made if crops are to be saved.”

“Your husband has been very good for the boy,” Jocelyn observed.

“His time with young Babcock will be good practice for when he must start teaching Bennet of the land. Under my husband’s oversight, we have begun making changes in how we treat the land with a four-crop rotation instead of three, as well as changes to the nearby village of Lambton. We have invested in roads going both north and south and east and west. The area is bordered by a moor and mountain range, with which we must contend, but we do not wish to become smothered by our own isolation. Such is true for where Babbington Hall is located. It is more than a bit isolated.”

All the time Mrs. Darcy described her husband’s aspirations, Jocelyn could hear the pride in the woman’s voice. “You are quite knowledgeable regarding Mr. Darcy’s transactions.”

“My husband permits my opinions, even seeks them out, especially in social situations, but also in dealings with the estate and our children’s futures. We decided, very much from the beginning of our pledge to each other, what our image of our life together would entail and what we hoped to leave behind for our children. Mr. Darcy’s mother and father created Pemberley for its greatness and its status among the landed gentry and the aristocracy. Mr. Darcy and I have refined that image, focusing on its lasting legacy, while we created strong bonds with those in the area. We have become leaders in growing not only Pemberley’s security, but that of all the farms and villages about it. It does us no good to have crops rotting in the field because the roads about us are too bad half the time for wagons to pass over them. We wish Lambton to grow large enough to sustain the businesses there, while handling traffic going north and south, as well as east and west, to new markets.”

Jocelyn wondered if she could assist the colonel equally as well. She knew very little of the ideas Mrs. Darcy rattled off the top of her head. “I wonder if you would consider speaking to me and my parents of some of your and Mr. Darcy’s plans. I do not imagine either my father or mother has considered how much Britain has changed in their absence.”

“Assuredly, I would be willing if you believe they would wish to hear of the innovations Mr. Darcy has installed at Pemberley. Though I know much of what my husband enacts each day at the estate, I will be speaking from a woman’s point of view.”

“It would be good for me and them to begin thinking of our futures. I would be most appreciative of your insights.”

* * *

Just as she had predicted, Mr. Harwell arrived in the afternoon to change her bandages. While he was there, her mother had insisted it was time that Jocelyn change into a day dress rather than a dressing gown and robe. Though he had “agreed” that such would be more ideal, the surgeon instructed, “Not until the sleeve of the day dress is cut away. It would be too difficult for your daughter to move her arm in and out of the dress just to save her demureness. The robe can be draped over her shoulder and fastened about her to keep her modesty. Though it is not ideal, such is best for the time being. I do believe we can provide her a sling rather than wrapping her arm to her body so as to prevent movement.”

Her mother said, “My daughter has sung your praises, sir.”

Harwell winked at Jocelyn. “I cannot claim all the credit your Miss Lambert’s . . .”

Jocelyn prevented his compliment before her mother could address the necessary information. “My family name is ‘Romfield.’”

Harwell presented her a puzzled look. “I apologize, Miss Romfield.”

“It is a long story, but I am Miss Romfield. My parents are Lord and Lady Romfield.”

“My honor, my lady,” he said with a bow directed to first her mother and then her.

Her mother said, “It is I who owes you my honor, sir. You brought my daughter back from the brink of death,” her mother said with an aristocratic nod of her head.

“Mr. Darcy took excellent care of Miss Romfield before I arrived, and your daughter did her own bit of fighting to live.”

“When we set out for Yorkshire, we had no idea if our daughter would be alive when we reached Babbington Hall. All we knew was she had been shot,” her mother explained as tears again pooled in her eyes.

“I am grieved you were so beset upon,” Harwell said. “Yet, all is well now, and it is a time to rejoice.” He asked tentatively, “Is Colonel Fitzwilliam aware of your recovery and your true name? Pardon, if I am too outspoken, but I could not help but to overhear the colonel’s pleas for your survival before he set out to locate Mr. Jennings. It was the evening I was summoned to tend you for the first time.”

“I could hear him,” Jocelyn admitted, “but the laudanum would not permit me to respond.” She sighed heavily. “To answer your unspoken part of the question, the colonel does not know I am Miss Romfield, but he is aware that his family and mine have arranged a marriage between him and Miss Jocelyn Romfield.”

Harwell barked a laugh. “I hope I am here when the colonel returns. It will be grand to view his face when he learns the woman to whom he wishes to pledge himself is the same woman his parents wish him to marry.”

Jocelyn frowned. “Please do not tell others of this arrangement. I must speak to him first.”

“It will be tempting to share your secret, but I will be close-mouthed. Yet, please remember me once you are Mrs. Colonel Fitzwilliam. I am in need of a patron, and, if you and the colonel are to continue to care for the Jennings children, you will require a physician to tend their broken bones and broken hearts.”

“Who says, even if we marry, that the colonel and I will live at Babbington? Their mother is married to the colonel’s brother. It would be natural for them to remain with their mother,” she reasoned.

“But the boy should be at his family’s estate,” Harwell argued. “Mr. Jennings corrupted the trust of the estate’s tenants, the village, and the area, as a whole. The British aristocracy developed a system where every person under its care depended on the master of the estate. The boy cannot simply walk away for years and expect the world to keep on keeping on. The estate will suffer. The village also. I have already witnessed the hope rising in the hearts of those in the community, for the boy, under your supervision and that of the colonel and Mr. Darcy, has displayed more true character than Jennings ever has. He is his late father, but proving to be a better version of the late lord at his age. I was most impressed in his devotion to your recovery. Such is not often displayed in the young, who only think of their needs, as we saw in his sisters.”

“I know little about overseeing a house, and I doubt the colonel can speak with any confidence on running an estate,” she said with doubt marking her tone.

“Then it is excellent that the colonel’s loyal cousin owns one of the largest and most well-run estates in this great country, and the last time I looked you have a steady friend in the man’s wife. The household once again has a competent staff in place, and you would have no need to feel as if you could not be supported in your efforts. Just as they want the boy to succeed, I imagine the same could be said of you and the colonel. As to the gentleman, if he can train green-rooted farmers and store clerks to be a part of one of the most well-run armies in the world, he can inspire a bunch of tenant farmers to do as he suggests. You both possess well-trained minds and know something of encouraging expectations of others. I do not see a reason not to make the attempt. You both love the boy, do you not?”

“Yes,” she said simply, before asking, “Why do you care?”

“Some would think I have overreached my influence over you, as well as having overstepped my position. Yet, my services make me essential while still being a person looking in through a ‘foggy’ window of life. Such said, as I see it, if Babbington Hall and the young lord thrives, then this community thrives. New businesses. New ideas. Better roads. People thinking that medicine matters and is not some sort of witchcraft. Perhaps an apothecary or two. More than one midwife. Bigger ideas. Larger hopes. It could all begin with you. Such is what Mr. Darcy found in his wife. Have you held a sincere conversation with the lady regarding her place in Mr. Darcy’s life? Theirs is an unusual, but most inspiring, joining.”

“The lady has agreed to speak to my parents on something similar. I asked if I might sit in on the conversation, but I did not consider all she shared as necessary for me.” She looked hard upon him, as if to study his reasoning. “May I ask why you admire the Darcys so?”

He shrugged as he returned his instruments to his well-arranged bag. “You were well under the effects of the laudanum when I first arrived at the manor so you did not likely hear me speak my gratitude to Mr. Darcy, for his father agreed to pay the expenses of nearly two dozen medical students if they would make the promise to finish their studies and return to England’s northern shires to practice for at least five years, after the necessary apprenticeship. I was one of those students. I am praying George Darcy’s son, and even perhaps the late Mr. Darcy’s nephew, will possess such vision. England requires forward-looking men to design the future equally as well as backward -ooking men to save our history.”