Chapter 7
Regret was not one of the feelings Fanny Bennet had when she woke at the coaching inn the next morning.
She was not at the same one where the hackney had left her.
To make sure no one could find her, she took the precaution of asking for a ride from an older couple who had stopped briefly.
She told them she needed to get closer to Hertfordshire as she was on her way home to tend to her son who was ill.
As she had not entered the inn, no one there would recognise her.
Yes, Fanny was mean of understanding, but she was cunning, especially when her own comfort was at stake. That self-preservation was why she had written to Clem Collins and ingratiated herself to him.
She woke earlier than was her preference, feeling refreshed and much lighter than she had since her useless husband had decided to die and make her face the possibility of living in the hedgerows.
Today, she would reach Longbourn, and once Clem saw that she was unencumbered by his daughters, they could move forward and marry.
That would allow her to assume the position of mistress of Longbourn that should have been hers since the day she married that cruel man.
The post coach was to depart at seven that morning. Even though it had cost more money, Fanny purchased a ticket to St Albans knowing that there was a stop at the Red Lion Inn in Meryton. She would alight there, and no one would be the wiser.
In all of her thoughts of how much better her life would be, she had not given a thought to how she would explain her leaving with her daughters and returning without them.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Little Mary must have been starving given how she sucked the edge of the cloth Edith allowed to touch her lips.
By the time the babe seemed sated, almost all of the milk in the bowl was gone.
She placed Mary over her shoulder and gently patted her back until the girl emitted a healthy belch.
With that done, Edith handed Mary to one of the nursemaids so that the napkin could be changed before putting the babe in a cradle so she would be able to sleep.
After being bathed Jane and Lizzy were being dried off in front of a crackling fire—even though the days had been warm, Edith did not want the girls to get chilled before they were dressed.
Edith had instructed the housekeeper to send someone to a shop which sold clothes for babes and young children to purchase a selection of gowns for Mary and dresses, frocks, slippers, and a host of other items for Jane and Lizzy.
As much as she knew that Paul was right about seeking the girls’ family, in her heart they were her girls already.
Edith knew she would not relinquish them to anyone who could not prove their love and good intentions for the three sisters.
She smiled as she remembered how Jamey had not understood why he was sent to Papa and was not allowed to remain in the nursery.
When they were his sisters, then that would change.
As of yet, there was no clothing for little girls in the house except for some of Edith’s own childhood dresses, which were in a trunk in the attics.
Mr Fenster had sent two footmen to retrieve the trunk she had described.
It had arrived while the girls were in the bath.
Unfortunately, the items in the trunk had not been preserved properly.
Hence, a few of Jamey’s gowns would suffice until the new clothing arrived.
Jane was dressed in a long gown which was open at the bottom, as was Lizzy, similarly.
Once they were dressed, Edith nodded to one of the nursemaids who rang the bell for the kitchens.
A few minutes later, a footman carrying a tray entered the nursery.
She did not miss the way both girls’ mouths watered when the smell of the food reached them.
She again felt the anger well up at the nameless and faceless woman who had thrown these girls away like so much rubbish.
By the reactions just to the smells, if she had to guess, Edith would say that it had been some time since the two had eaten a proper meal.
Not knowing what the girls liked, Edith had told Cook, through Mrs Fenster, to make fried, scrambled, poached, and boiled eggs.
With them were ham, sausages, and rashers of bacon.
If that was not enough, there was also toast, butter, honey, and various flavours of jams. There were two glasses of cold, fresh milk as well.
As it was what they were used to at Longbourn, Jane and Lizzy asked for scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. They ate much more than they normally would, seeing how hungry they had been.
When her little belly was full, Lizzy dipped the little finger of one hand into the golden-looking thing she had never seen before.
Honey had never been a luxury kept where they used to live.
She licked the tip of her finger. Her sweet tooth told her it was very good, so in an instant the whole of her finger was in her mouth as she sucked the sweet nectar from her digit.
Edith could not but giggle. She dipped a teaspoon into the jar of honey, and after turning it over a few times to stop the dripping, she handed it to Elizabeth.
Seeing how much Lizzy was enjoying what she was eating, Jane turned to the nice lady who had brought them from outside. “What that?” She pointed to the jar of honey.
“That, Jane dear, is called ‘honey’. It is made by bees. Do you want to try some?” Edith offered.
After a nod, the nice lady handed Jane a teaspoon with a little of the nectar on it. Jane sniffed it; it did not have a bad smell, so she allowed the tip of her tongue to touch the small amount in the spoon. It tasted very good, which led Jane to suck everything off the teaspoon.
As soon as the two girls had eaten their fill and drained the milk from the glasses, Edith led them to a couch along one wall of the nursery while one of the nursemaids placed everything back on the tray before summoning the footman waiting in the hall to remove what was remaining.
Edith sat and patted a seat on either side of herself.
Without hesitation, the girls climbed up and sat in the places indicated.
“Girls, I know your names are Jane, Lizzy, and Mary, but what is your other name?” She saw both girls were confused.
“My name is Edith, but my other name, my family name, is Carrington. What is your name?”
“I Janey and that Wizzy,” Jane said confusedly. Had she not told the nice lady that already? As she had never been addressed with her family name, she knew not what it was.
‘No family name; that will make it more difficult to discover their family.’ Edith thought. “What are your papa’s and mamma’s names?” The woman did not deserve the title of mother, but Edith knew the girls would remember her that way.
“Papa and Mamma,” Elizabeth chirped.
“No, I mean other names like Jane, Elizabeth, Mary, or, like me, Edith,” she prompted.
“Papa and Mamma not called Jane, Wizzy, Mawy, or Edit,” Jane said confusedly. Did the nice lady not understand about Papa and Mamma? What did she mean by ‘other names’?
“Do you know the name of the place you used to live?” Edith enquired.
“Merry in Her-shire,” Jane replied.
Once, some years past, the Carringtons had visited Herefordshire.
Edith remembered the town of Merryvale in that county.
Surely the horrendous mother had not travelled halfway across England to abandon her daughters?
Then again, it would make sense to take them far away from where they were known.
She would speak to Paul about this. “Do you live on an estate, and what is its name?”
“What is estate?” Jane queried. “We live in nuwsewy.”
They did not know the name of the estate. Edith was as certain as she could be that they had in fact been born to a landed family. “Do you know how long you travelled until you reached London?”
“Long time, we sweep lot,” Jane responded.
“Did you sleep in inns?” Edith pushed as she tried to determine if they were in fact from Herefordshire.
“Yes, we sleep at inn.” As she did not have a good grasp on time, Jane replied honestly. She remembered that Mamma had said they were at an inn, and they had slept there before Mamma took them for their surprise.
“Do you have any other brothers or sisters?” Edith continued.
Both Jane and Lizzy shook their heads.
“Uncles or aunts?” Edith questioned. “Grandfathers or grandmothers?”
“Unca Edwawd,” Jane responded with a smile as she remembered the kind man who would come see them in the nursery.
So there was an uncle by the name of Edward who Jane remembered fondly, but as there were thousands of Edwards in the realm, without the surname, it did not help in the least. In her heart, Edith knew she did not want to locate anyone to take the girls, even while her head knew they would make every effort to do so.
She was sure that the more time she was with these girls, the more she would love them as her own daughters.
“How old are you?” Edith questioned. Surprisingly for one so young, Elizabeth held up one finger.
“Wizzy had biwthday before we leave for suwpwise,” Jane revealed.
“And you, Jane, how old are you?” Edith asked. ‘So this terrible woman told her daughters they were to receive a surprise so they would cooperate with her without question. Quite a surprise, to be discarded in Hyde Park,’ Edith thought angrily.
“I two. Papa towd me I have biwthday in Aug,” Jane responded. “Mawy come Jan-ury.”
Mary was only about three months old! The hatred Edith felt for the mother who had done this burnt white hot. If she were ever found, Edith would demand that Paul have her transported. Even that was too good for this worst mother she had ever encountered.