Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next day, Pemberley was a hive of activity.
Grooms rode out to beg, borrow, or steal newspapers, the family chaise was disinterred from the stable where it had rested for the last ten years, and an express was sent to Mr Gardiner in Gracechurch Street.
To Georgiana and her mother, she said only that her husband would be in England for but a brief time, and that she would dearly love to spend that time alone with him.
Georgiana, although disappointed, was neither so ungrateful nor so insensible that she did not understand the request, and she settled down to writing a monstrous great letter and to drawing as much of the restored Pemberley as she could manage in the time allowed.
Elizabeth pored over the newspapers and the back issues of the Naval Chronicle and gathered little. The Vanguard was described at length and the name of her future captain speculated upon for, in the words of one of the Chronicle’s correspondents,
…a more ‘plum’ posting it would be hard to conceive, and the man who finds himself posted to this magnificent ship will surely be distinguished either for his parts or for potent interests on shore, pressing for his promotion.
Although her mind was much oppressed with speculation and anxiety, Elizabeth did not neglect the business of the house and estate.
A conference with Mr Lester and another with Mrs Reynolds ensured that all would proceed smoothly, with particular care being taken to celebrate Georgiana’s sixteenth birthday.
She wrote to Lord Matlock, reminding him of this happy event in the hopes that he would ride over and perhaps invite the two ladies to visit his home, Alfreton Park.
Anderssen and Haslam were to stay at Pemberley to guard Georgiana if necessary, and Elizabeth would travel through Hatfield and take up Puttnam to act as guide.
It would be cruel indeed to expose the able-bodied seamen to the dangers of the Press.
Although it felt like hubris of the worst sort, she did not neglect herself.
She had already ordered from the dressmaker in Lambton the most becoming of travelling clothes and gowns for wearing in the day.
Half in shame and half in bravado, she had also ordered a nightgown of such translucent daring that she was by no means sure she would ever venture to wear it.
The promise of an additional generous fee ensured that the remainder of the items would be supplied as soon as possible.
She had originally ordered the clothes for his longed-for return home, to look as beautiful as she might.
Now, as Maria alternately packed and pleaded to be allowed to accompany the party, Elizabeth tried not to imagine a journey home, when all this finery was revealed for the desperate throw she suspected it might prove to be.
Mr Gardiner’s reply when it came was not such as to aid in calming her spirits. It arrived the day before she had determined she must leave for Portsmouth and enclosed a copy of the latest edition of The Times.
He wrote,
I have been unable to discover much more than is written in these pages.
There are rumours of great changes at the department of the Admiralty in charge of intelligence, consequent upon some as yet announced failure on its part.
Please write as soon as you can. In the meantime, your aunt and I and the children will keep you both in our prayers.
She tore the newspaper open, her eyes darting about its pages. She was so flurried that it took her several minutes to find the report headed Naval Engagement in the Mediterranean.
We are informed that an engagement took place at sea off the island of— between His Majesty’s Ship Achilles and the French national ship of war La Gloire, accompanied by a number of lesser vessels from states allied to the French.
To Elizabeth’s shocked gaze, the list of additional ships seemed horribly long.
The Achilles was present to meet with parties thought eager to shake off the yoke of Corsican tyranny; however, we regret to say that, due to a culpable laxity in the arrangements, from which we do not hesitate to acquit the ship and its gallant officers and men, the appointment was widely known and much canvassed in Malta and doubtless other parts where British naval business is conducted.
We understand that Captain Darcy of the Achilles brought this to the attention of the naval authorities in those parts, but there was present no superior officer with the courage to overrule orders from London, and the ship was forced to sail for a meeting which many aboard must have suspected would prove not only fruitless but dangerous.
The result is easy to foresee. The appointment was a trap, and it is only the bravery and seamanship of those aboard which brought the ship away, although the expense in men and materiel is impossible to exaggerate.
There are reported killed fifty-two, including Mr T Pascoe - First Lieutenant, Mr M Hannaside - Second Lieutenant …
The column of names reached the bottom of the page and included names familiar to Elizabeth from her husband’s letters. She could only guess at the anguish such losses would cause to the men who had been their shipmates.
…Many dying in the days after the battle from their wounds. Also wounded, thirty-six. This from a ship’s complement of only two hundred and eighty-four.
No greater tribute to the fallen can be given than to report that La Gloire was forced to flee and that two smaller vessels [their names and details were given at length] were taken prizes.
We understand that the Achilles will require substantial repair and Captain F Darcy will transfer to the new ship HMS Vanguard.
Although no man who serves his country in time of war expects that service to be always safe or easy, it is to be hoped that the gallant men of the Achilles will not again face more danger at the hands of their friends than they do at those of their enemies.
This was worse, much worse than Elizabeth had feared, and she was at once wild to be off. Hiding the report from Georgiana was imperative, and any longer delay would only increase the chance that she would miss her husband altogether.
Within the hour, the coach was ordered round, trunks and bags packed aboard, and a rider dispatched to order horses prepared at their first stopping place.
Mr Lester produced a considerable sum of money for the journey, and all was prepared.
Her last sight of Pemberley was of Georgiana standing forlornly on the front steps, waving her handkerchief and attempting, with indifferent success, not to cry.
For once in her life, money was no object to Elizabeth, and they swept south as fast as the horses could gallop.
Frequent changes, a moonlit night, and good roads saw them dash into Hatfield not thirty hours later.
Puttnam was collected, assuring her as he climbed unwillingly inside that no further letters of any description had been received.
She did not wait to call at Longbourn, dearly though she would have loved to see Jane again, but set off south again, determined to reach the first tollgate on the road west as soon as might be.
As they raced through the countryside, Puttnam forever asleep opposite her, she attempted to subdue the wild imaginings of her heart.
They travelled at such speed that reading was impossible and sleep only available to the exhausted or insensible.
Time and again, she stepped from the coach to stretch stiffened limbs while the horses were changed or attempted to snatch a bite to eat, and time and again, she begrudged every second she was not upon the road.
The ten hours between London and Portsmouth seemed to her the longest day she had ever spent. At the post boy’s recommendation, the Darcy chaise pulled into an inn known for accommodating naval officers ashore, and Puttnam stumped in to make enquiries. He came back within minutes.
“He’s ’ere, ma’am,” he said, and Elizabeth felt again the terrible hollowness of anticipation. “Leastwise, he’s expected back from the dockyard later tonight.” She climbed from the chaise; her legs felt weak beneath her, and she was pathetically glad for a brief respite before she saw him.
She took rooms at the rear of the house, and the chambermaid helped her out of clothes and into bed.
She had persuaded the inn servants not to mention her arrival to her husband, for instinct told her he might well flee her presence, out to some ship where she could not follow.
So she told them her arrival was to be a surprise, and since they knew he was no libertine who might be surprised with a woman of the town, they took her coins and promised their silence with indulgent smiles.
It was agreed that Puttnam would send the chambermaid to wake her the minute he arrived.
To her surprise, she slept deeply, and it was dark before the tap came on her chamber door.
She dressed hurriedly but well, not ashamed to use every weapon in her arsenal.
If he intended to set her aside, he would be brought to recognise what he had chosen to discard.
She was so hurried that there was scarcely time to be afraid before she stepped out into the corridor to meet Puttnam.
He took her to the next floor, and she was just in time to see a door open and a man who looked like a clerk come out.
“And tell those crooked hounds at the Victualling Board I know all their tricks. I am not to be bribed, and I am not to be practised upon.” It was his voice, strong and alive, and her knees weakened.
The door shut, and she summoned the courage to approach it.
However, before she could do so, Starkey came up the backstairs with a tray of food in his hands, the captain’s belated supper.
He did not see her until she came round her corner, just as he knocked on the door and announced his errand.