Chapter 10 A Rousing Song #3
Miss de Bourgh’s respiration slowed. She halted, prompting me to stop as well.
“You are correct. As fond as I am of Mrs. Jenkinson, she is no longer the best fit for me as a companion. I believe I shall ask my aunt Lady Matlock to recommend a candidate for me. Once we have returned to Rosings, I shall explain my intentions to Mrs. Jenkinson. I am certain she will be happy to retire. I shall provide her with an annuity so she may live in comfort near her son and grandchildren.”
I covered her hand with my own. “Mrs. Jenkinson is certain to appreciate your generosity.”
Darcy
On my way to the study, I glimpsed Richard within the billiards room and changed direction to approach him. He sat staring into space, holding an empty glass at a precarious angle.
My gait faltered when I noticed the decanter—it had been full that morning. He must have consumed an alarming portion of brandy. He had been in fine spirits at the picnic. Had he received bad news? “Richard, are you well?”
His head jerked at my voice, and he shifted unsteadily, propping his arm upon the chair. “Darcee! Yes, I just ’bout to find you.”
Gad, he is in his cups.
“I’d a…strange talk with your frien’ Mr. Graham.” A raucous belch came from him, and he covered his mouth belatedly. “Pard’n me.”
What had Graham said to upset Richard? I took the glass from him and removed the brandy decanter to the cabinet. “You need coffee.” I rang the servant’s bell and ordered refreshments and a pot of the beverage.
Richard waved his hand. “Darce, you must lis’n to me.”
“Let us wait until you have regained more of your faculties.” Two maids delivered the food and coffee. I poured him a mug. “Here, drink this.”
I sat opposite him and waited until he swigged the brew, then added more coffee to his mug. “Now then, tell me what is on your mind.”
His glassy, watery eyes raised to me. “This may be diff’cult to hear.”
My breath caught. Did this concern Elizabeth or Bennet? “For pity’s sake, tell me what he said!”
Richard cringed and covered both ears with his hands. “You need not shout.”
I took a moment to regain my calm. After all, why should I assume the worst? No doubt Graham had told Richard of my impending death, leaving him shaken by the news. “What did he say to you?”
“Do you believe Mr. Graham can foretell the future?”
“As remarkable as it may sound, yes.”
“What do you mean? How did he convince you?”
The toe of my boot tapped upon the floor. “Just tell me what has upset you.”
He brushed his hand over his chin. “In August, I went to Bellwood Hall. After dinner, Henry and I spoke to my father in his study. He had several glasses of port that evening and talked of your mother. He described the difficulties she endured in order to have children.”
I moved to the edge of my seat, my back straight and stiff. “What did your father say?”
“He mentioned the many miscarriages she suffered, which lowered her spirits and damaged her vigour. She was elated at your birth, but the protracted labour left her quite weak. It took her the greater part of a year to recover.”
I gritted my teeth. No one had provided any details of my birth before, but my mother had always seemed rather frail.
“Darcy, I am sorry, I…” Richard shook his head, his features buckled and drawn.
“Pray continue.”
“You may know the circumstances of Georgiana’s birth, but I was staying with family friends at the time.”
“Yes, I am aware.” My throat dried up. Memories emerged from that time.
Mother had declared her great happiness at having provided me with a sister and my father with a daughter.
Yet her felicity did not last. Within a few days of Georgiana’s birth, Mother contracted a dangerous fever, and her strength ebbed with each passing hour.
When we lost her, our anguish placed a pall over the household for many months.
Yet my love for Georgiana had been established at my first sight of her.
Two years ago, I had been frantic with anxiety during Elizabeth’s confinement and spent countless hours in zealous prayer for her safety.
Eschewing sleep, I watched over my wife those first nights after Bennet’s birth as she slept, consumed with dread that a sign of childbed fever would manifest. After the fifth day of my vigil passed without incident, my apprehension dissipated.
I had been blessedly fortunate. My wife recovered from childbirth swiftly, and Bennet continued to be robust.
“Once I departed my father’s home, it struck me that Georgiana may have inherited the tendency for difficulties with the birthing process from her mother.”
I started at Richard’s disturbing statement. “That notion never occurred to me. Although Georgiana resembles our mother, she is taller and far healthier and stronger.”
“Earlier, Mr. Graham and I played a game of billiards. Without the least preamble from me, he addressed my concern and spoke of my future, or rather Georgiana’s future.”
I stilled. “Well?”
“He asserted that she and I should have three healthy children and she would enjoy a long life.”
“That is a relief.” I leaned back against my chair.
Richard’s eyes widened. “How can you believe such nonsense? Fortune-tellers are naught but frauds!”
“Yes, I do not doubt most of them are charlatans.” I raked my fingers over my scalp. “But Graham is gifted with insight I can neither explain nor understand. Elizabeth and I have both witnessed demonstrations of his talent. You ought to believe what he told you.”
He rubbed his eyes. “From anyone else, I should dismiss this as a flight of fancy or self-delusion, but you are the most sensible person of my acquaintance. If you believe in Mr. Graham’s ability as a seer, I am persuaded to agree.” Chuckles shook his chest. “This is wonderful news!”
“Indeed, it is.”
“But I have been such a dolt.” He rose from his chair quickly—too quickly—and staggered, lifting his hand to his head. “I must speak to Georgiana at once.”
I stood and pushed him, causing him to land heavily in the chair.
He groaned. “What are you doing?”
“You are not quite sober yet.” I handed him his disregarded mug. “Finish this before you leave this room.”
With a sigh, Richard muttered his agreement.
One of our footmen, John, came to deliver a note. I took a glance at the message signed by Graham and gave Richard a stern gaze. “Can I trust you to remain here?”
He lifted his mug of coffee aloft. “Of course. I shall drink this before I leave.”
When I entered my locked study, Graham sat in the chair opposite my desk. I mumbled a mild curse at his presumption. “You wanted to see me?” I took my seat behind the desk.
He described a conversation he had with Anne in which she revealed her desire to take over the management of Rosings.
The change would be certain to benefit the estate—Anne’s calm, reasonable nature would serve her well in the position.
Graham recounted Anne’s wish for me to write to our uncle and secure his support. He leaned forwards. “If you do not mind. I hope you will write the letter to your uncle now.”
“Now?” I beheld him for a long moment. “I have no objection to fulfilling her request, but why the urgency? What difference does it make whether the letter is written now, tomorrow, or next week?” The throbbing of my heart reverberated in my ears. Would Graham admit my imminent death?
With his eyes focused upon his clasped hands, Graham mumbled a few unintelligible words.
“What did you say? I could not understand you.” My heightened tone reflected the tumult within me.
He coughed. “Well, you see, I promised her that you would take care of this today. She is anxious to have her uncle’s support guaranteed as soon as possible.”
Blast it. Despite the angel’s unwillingness to be explicit, his inference could not be mistaken. I grabbed the arms of the chair to steady myself. It seemed I had little time remaining. “In actuality, I have no reason to put this off. I shall compose the missive now.”
The tension in Graham’s features dispersed with his smile. “Miss de Bourgh will appreciate your assistance. She would have asked you herself, but I believe the estrangement of the last several years made her reluctant to impose upon you. I assured her that you would not mind.”
“No, not in the least.” Graham sat in silence as I worked on the correspondence to my uncle.
I sanded and sealed the letter, and my sight fell upon him.
Could he provide the same service for me that he had done for Richard?
It would be a tremendous comfort if I could be assured before leaving this earth that my wife and son would lead full and contented lives.
“Richard related the welcome news you gave him with regards to my sister and their future family.” To my chagrin, my voice cracked.
“I should be grateful if you could confirm that Elizabeth and Bennet have long, happy lives ahead of them.”
Graham’s posture straightened, and a grin suffused his mien with esprit. “Yes, of course. This I can do for you.” He moved to stand beside me with his hand extended. “If you please.”
I took his hand, and he closed his eyes.
The muscles in his forehead contracted and relaxed. Interminable moments elapsed as he shifted his weight several times.
I glanced at the mantle clock. Almost two minutes had gone by. Why did this take so long? My heart pounded, and coldness crept into my veins. Graham’s grip on my hand grew stronger, almost desperate, though I had naught but a dim perception of the ache from the pressure.
After another minute, Graham released me, panting. Sweat glistened on his temples, and his eyes opened. “I…I am sorry. I cannot do this.”
I shot up from my chair. “What do you mean, you cannot? Do you refuse to tell me their fates?” I raised a hand to my chest. What had Graham seen?
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I am unable to see either Elizabeth’s or Bennet’s future. I made the attempt several times to no avail.”