Chapter 29
The bans had been called over the last three weeks, and Jane and Elizabeth had planned an excellent wedding breakfast while the seamstress in Lambton created a beautiful gown in Mary’s new favorite color of rose pink.
Jane received almost daily missives from their mother, filled with manic, and often opposing, instructions for the wedding of her least favorite daughter interspersed with offensive remarks over the surprise of the entire neighborhood.
Jane rolled her eyes as she tossed away the latest of them.
She could only imagine the ridiculous things which her mother was spouting to her friends and prayed that she could keep them to herself when she and their father arrived on the morrow.
Luckily for she and Mary, they were to stay at Pemberley afterward and not Ivy Well.
“I do not blame you for abandoning me to my family,” she teased Yates as they sat in the office going through the mail and remitting the accounts.
Their interactions had recently become almost flirtatious.
“That was quite the dramatic missive. I am glad that my father decided not to come until the evening before. I am certain that he had his own reasons, likely to prevent my mother from spending even more, but it is a blessing for us as well.”
“I would have braved the lions at your side were it possible, but I must answer my own father’s summons.” He smiled widely, having enjoyed her shy flirtations. “Darcy offered to send Thorton, his under steward, to take over my duties while I am gone, but I promise that I shall return quickly.”
“You will be missed,” Jane murmured, blushing deeply at her admission. “Ellie has gotten used to seeing you each day.”
Yates smirked, knowing that she was attempting to push his attention away from her blooming cheeks. “I shall certainly miss… her, as well as her mother.”
Jane released a soft gasp, forgetting to look away from his gaze as her confusion usually forced her to do.
Her eyes widened as he stood and came around the desk toward her.
She leaned back in her chair, looking up at his ruggedly handsome face as he stepped close.
Her heart began pounding in her ears and her vision swam until she was forced to release the breath that she was unknowingly holding.
He gave her a grin as he leaned forward, her breathing picking up, and then he dropped to his knees.
“There you are little Ellie,” he cooed, tickling under her chin with his fingers and placing a kiss on her soft brow. She released a hiccup and then reached for his short beard and loosed a bright, angelic giggle.
Jane shot forward. “Did she laugh?”
Yates crowed happily. “She did! Did you find my prickles amusing sweet girl? Did you? That is well that you did it now while I was still home for it would have broken my heart to miss it! You must be good for your momma. But no more growing while I am away.”
She chuckled once more and clapped her hands before sticking her entire fist into her mouth, a line of drool following it as she offered it to Yates.
He growled and pretended to eat her fist. She did not find that nearly as amusing and gave him a dirty look which made him and her mother laugh.
Yates rose to his feet and bowed over Jane’s hand.
“I shall see you in a sen’night, if not sooner,” he promised.
“Travel safely.”
Jane’s eyes welled as he strode from the room.
He had become such a constant and a strength since she had taken the reins and she did not know what she would do without him.
Jane prayed that there was nothing wrong at Statham Court for she would be lost if he did not return.
Shaking off her doldrums, she rang for the nurse to retrieve Ellie so that she could see to their packing.
Staying at Ivy Well without Yates would only sadden her further, she would go to Pemberley early and assist Elizabeth with their mother when she arrived.
∞∞∞
Yates climbed into the earl’s carriage, which had been sent with the missive he had received.
His father apparently had not wished to give him any excuse to demure.
The letter had not been very forthcoming, which left him questioning the reason.
Usually, his father was very blunt with his desire that his fourth and favorite son would give up his wild ways and quit acting out with his choice of occupation.
He snorted derisively. Of all his brothers’ wildness, his was almost mundane, and at least it was productive.
Perhaps, he pondered, it was nothing to do with himself and one of his brothers had fallen into some contretemps.
His father’s harangues were much more palatable when directed at someone else.
When the Staffordshire estate rolled into view several hours later, Yates was shaken awake by the sharp curve in the drive.
His eyes widened in fear at the sight of the black buntings which hung from the windows and the large mourning wreath over the front door.
His heart pounded nearly out of his chest. He wracked his brain trying to remember if the letter he had received had been signed by the earl or his father specifically.
If his father had died leaving Harold in charge of the earldom, they were all in trouble.
His breath exploded in relief when he saw his father standing on the steps awaiting him.
“Why did you not send word?” he asked as he flew from the carriage to greet the man with a rough embrace. “Who was it? Benji?”
The earl sighed heavily and led him inside as he responded. “We lost Harold two days ago and I received a letter this morning from the higher ups in White Hall that Benjamin was killed a fortnight past. Go clean up and join me in the study, we will speak more then.”
When Yates joined his father, a mourning band on his arm, he poured them both two fingers of brandy and settled beside the fireplace where the man sat staring into the cold hearth. He thanked him for the drink and hissed at the burn of the alcohol as it slipped down his throat.
“What happened with Harold?” Yates asked, settling beside him in the opposite armchair.
“He and Upton decided to race their carriages on Trundle Heath and locked wheels. Both were thrown and broke their necks in the wreckage.”
“Daft idiot.”
The earl snorted in agreement.
“So that leaves Gerald as viscount then,” he observed.
He scoffed angrily, “I guess you had not heard that Gerald has contracted the French disease from his mistress and is also on his death bed.”
“A parson with syphilis?”
“I know, none of them are worth a farthing!” the earl sighed.
“At least Benjamin died in service of King and country,” he replied, a weak attempt at comfort.
“Ha! He was shot by his commanding officer for seducing his young wife! They begged for my agreement to publicly call it a casualty of war so that they could keep the commanding officer who is a good leader, despite it all, and we could save face by not having yet another wastrel in the family line.”
Yates groaned and pulled at his hair. “I never wanted the title!”
“All the more reason that it should go to you,” his lordship replied. “Of all my sons, you are the only one to whom I could turn over our people without a single worry. I loved your brothers, but I was not blind to their faults, and I worried greatly for the earldom.”
“I cannot leave my position,” he declared with finality. “I will not leave.”
“Dear Lord,” the earl sighed. “The future viscount of Tygee cannot work as a steward! Surely the Bingley woman can rely on her family for assistance in hiring a new steward.”
“I plan on marrying that Bingley woman, sir,” he replied with a look, daring him to comment.
“She is the daughter of a gentleman, if I recall?”
He nodded.
“I should like to meet her before I offer unconditional approval, but I am mostly confident as I trust your judgement.”
“Thank you, sir. That means a lot,” he replied.
“I am not comfortable telling her of my coming elevation, so I would prefer if you waited some time before meeting her-- until close to the end of her mourning. She is the type that would feel obligated to send me off to save me from myself, presuming I could do better.”
“Better? Is she mad to refuse a future earl?”
“No, but despite her great beauty, she is a very modest sort and often does not see her true worth.”
“Will she be able to act as the countess? The Ton would eat her alive if she is too retiring…”
“Oh, no. She has a spine of adamant after her first marriage, I assure you.”
“Good, good. Get a ring on her finger and then bring her to meet me. I shall work with your aunt to decide how we will present her.”
“She is sister to the new Mrs. Darcy, so that will give her at least some cachet with the cats of the ton.”
“That is well then! I heard Matlock and his lady have really taken a shine to Mrs. Darcy. And Lady de Bourgh loathes her, which is even more of a recommendation in my opinion.”
Yates laughingly agreed as he knew that Lady Catherine’s proclamations were quite the running joke amongst her former peers. “Mrs. Darcy is a sparkling, vivacious sort of woman. You would enjoy her, I think.”