Chapter 28 Return to English Soil
Elizabeth kept in the background, reminding herself of the three simple rules: never speak before you are spoken to, never turn your back to the queen, and never touch her.
The feathers bobbed on her head as she walked through the garden of Kew Palace.
They had barely had time to prepare as they had only returned from Ritterhof the previous day.
Jane and Mr Bingley had been staying at Darcy House since they returned from their honeymoon, and her most beloved sister had much to relate, as did she.
It was a blessing that neither Jane nor Mr Bingley had suffered any scorn during the few days they had been in London.
The gentry had retreated to their country estates, which must have worked to their advantage.
Queen Charlotte was receiving them in her secluded rustic cottage
orné, tucked away in the southwest end of the garden on the bank of the Thames. It was not what Elizabeth had expected when granted a royal audience.
They were escorted into an airy green room with painted vines winding up the walls and ceiling.
The queen was sitting in front of a large window, allowing the sunlight to illuminate her guests.
She had grey ringlets, clear eyes, and a pug resting in her lap.
In attendance were two of her daughters rather than her ladies-in-waiting.
The moment she espied Elizabeth’s grandmother was quite telling.
She rose abruptly, the pug all but forgotten.
“Louise, is it really you?”
“It is, Your Majesty,” Lady Louise affirmed with a deep curtsey.
“Come here,” the queen ordered, gesturing to the sofa next to her. “I am delighted to see you again after all these years. What fun we had, and what mischief we made as two silly young girls. You must tell me all about what you have been doing these last fifty years.”
“Of course,” Lady Louise agreed.
Elizabeth watched the conversation, trying to imagine the two older ladies as seventeen-year-old girls.
It was not difficult. Queen Charlotte was of a lively and equable temper; her grandmother was much the same.
Their subject moved to family matters, and her grandmother related that she had been blessed with only the one child but that he had endowed her with five precious granddaughters.
“And this, I suppose, is one of your granddaughters.”
Elizabeth, with all eyes on her, curtsied as deeply as she dared.
“Mrs Darcy, it has come to my attention that you have been subjected to vile rumours and repugnant behaviour.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Elizabeth confirmed.
“No one should be forced to withstand undeserved insults and attacks, though I suppose one must harden one’s armour regardless. I shall let society know that you and your husband have the support of the Crown.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied, despite not knowing what that implied.
“Let me think. The aristocracy have departed for their country estates, and few remain in town at this time of year. That means fewer balls, events, and plays. Grouse season is just beginning, of course…”
Silence stretched for a few minutes.
“It is possible that Princess Charlotte of Wales will be travelling to Weymouth on the twenty-eighth. Something might be arranged. Await further notice. I shall confer with the Countess of Harcourt.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“But I suggest we do nothing outlandish. One does not want to appear desperate.”
“Certainly not, ma’am.”
Her grandmother rose; the audience was at an end, and they backed out of the rustic but comfortable cottage.
“Do come again, Lady Louise,” The queen called before they had left.
“It would be my honour.”
“I shall invite you to tea,” the queen allowed.
“That went rather well,” Lady Louise whispered to Elizabeth once they were out of earshot.
“I could not agree more,” Elizabeth rejoiced.
Darcy was anxiously awaiting their return with the Count of Reimarus, who had finished his audience with the Prince Regent a few minutes earlier.
“The news about the king is not good,” the count imparted. “The madness appears to be permanent this time.”
“Then I am pleased to report the queen is as sensible as ever,” Lady Louise remarked.
“We are to await further instructions, but we might be travelling to Weymouth on short notice,” she added cryptically.
“It truly is a shame about the king. He was an interesting man—dutiful, intelligent, and cultured.”
The equipage returned to Darcy House whilst Lady Louise regaled the occupants with tales from her few but eventful days at court.
It was not until the carriage entered Grosvenor Square that Lady Louise startled her audience.
“All that remains is to discover which of your servants has been informing the press,” she remarked.
“I beg your pardon!” Darcy exclaimed, affronted.
“Lizzy suggested as much to me, and I am inclined to believe her. Not only did the rumours include such details that only someone in the household might have known, but it is also remarkable how quickly the newspapers garnered the information. It simply must have come from someone in the house. The family is, of course, exempt, which leaves the servants. Of those, it is likely to be one of the upper servants, as I doubt the scullery and kitchen maids are informed about intimate details.”
Darcy opened and closed his mouth with a deep frown marring his handsome features. He rubbed his chin as the carriage drew to a halt. “I fear you are correct, Lady Louise. The thought has crossed my mind, but most of my servants have been with me for years, or even decades.”
“Who is new?”
“Elizabeth’s lady’s maid is a fairly recent addition.”
“From where did you acquire her?”
“She came highly recommended by my aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
Lady Louise narrowed her eyes just as the steps were lowered.
“We shall address this matter once we have divested ourselves of these monstrous court gowns. Let us gather in the withdrawing room in an hour.”
The rest of the party nodded their acceptance, and Elizabeth made haste to the mistress’s chamber.
When they had arrived home the previous evening, she had spent the hours before she retired talking only to Jane, relating the tales of her entrance into London’s society and enquiring after her sister’s travels.
The Bingleys had since removed to Hurst House to allow her to accommodate their grandmother and Count Reimarus.
Guilt was gnawing at her conscience for not having taken the time to speak to Mary or Georgiana that morning, but the preparations before meeting the queen had been all consuming.
Her regret doubled when she espied Mary’s frigid countenance and rigid stance.
Georgiana’s wide eyes and nervous fiddling did nothing to appease her.
“I thought you were dead,” Mary accused her sister. Red blotches blossomed in the girl’s cheeks and tears were welling in her eyes. “You could have written to me, even if your marriage was in ruins.”
Elizabeth felt the heaviness of her failings. Running off on an impetuous errand to save Lydia had injured Mary. Her middle sister was not prone to tears, which is why the censure cut deeper than Lydia’s complaints or her mother’s constant lamentations.
“You are correct, Mary. I should have informed you about my decision to save Lydia from a most imprudent marriage. If I had conf—”
“You left your husband in ignorance and utter despair to rescue Lydia?”
“Yes. The lieutenant whose name shall never be mentioned in this house is not what I would wish for any of my sisters’ husbands.” Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.
“You reap what you sow,” Mary observed with tight lips.
“I hardly think that agreeing to a chaperoned carriage ride is reason to condemn Lydia to a life-long marriage in utter despair.”
“We both know that this incident was not the first and is most assuredly not the last reprehensible decision Lydia will make. She is the most determined flirt who ever made herself and her family look ridiculous. Without any attraction but youth and tolerable good looks to recommend her, with her ignorance and the emptiness of her mind, she is unable to ward off the universal contempt her rage for admiration excites. Lydia is vain, ignorant, idle, and absolutely uncontrollable!”
The shock originated not only from the vehemence with which the words were spoken but how similar they were to her own condemnation of Lydia.
Especially when she had feared that her youngest sister’s antics would ruin her chance of happiness with Darcy.
It was Lydia who had changed her mind, once Elizabeth had taken the time to know her better.
“Lydia may surprise you yet, Mary. Her ordeal has mellowed her exuberance and taught our youngest sister a valuable lesson. She is much changed, though not in essentials. She is much as she ever was, only wiser and more demure.”
“If she is so improved, why did she not return with you?”
“Lydia wished to remain at Ritterhof. I saw no reason to object.”
“With the young Lord Ritterhof?”
“Of course not. He moved to his lodgings in Rendsburg the day of our departure.”
Elizabeth wondered whether Mary was aware that his lordship had been quite taken with Lydia, but she soon rejected the notion.
“Countess Gertrude Wedel-Jarlsberg, our grandmother’s youngest sister, is attending our sister until the count returns to Ritterhof.
I can assure you there is nothing improper about Lydia’s current situation. ”
Mary huffed just as Darcy entered with Lady Louise and Count Reimarus. Lady Louise addressed Mary and Georgiana.
“Dear ladies, I have a task of the utmost importance for you both.”
Mary and Georgiana adopted a serious mien and nodded sagely.
“It has come to my attention that there is an informant in this house.”
Both girls looked aghast at such a possibility.
“I implore you to vigilantly observe the servants and notify Mr Darcy of any behaviour that might look the slightest bit dubious. Especially if any of the servants appear to be loitering in a part of the house they have no business being in, attempt to eavesdrop on conversations, or speak to street urchins.”
“Street urchins? What do they have to do with it?” Elizabeth beseeched.
“The perpetrator cannot leave their post for long enough to run to the newspapers with their idle gossip. It might be family though. Does anyone have a brother or sister who visits frequently?”
“I do not know,” Elizabeth admitted. “I shall ask the housekeeper.”
“No. You must not notify anyone about our suspicions. We could give each servant an insignificant tidbit of information and see which rumour is repeated in the newspapers.”
“You have a devious mind, Sister,” Lord Reimarus lauded.
“I quite enjoy having a mystery to unravel,” Lady Louise declared.
“Have either of you noticed anything out of the ordinary?” Darcy’s gaze shifted between Georgiana and Mary.
The girls contemplated the question before Mary spoke. “Martha, occasionally, seems ill at ease.”
Elizabeth had graciously offered to share her lady’s maid with her sister, so Mary knew the girl well.
“Truly?” Elizabeth thought the ruddy-faced maid to be comfortable—a stout character who was not prone to fluttering nerves.
“What have you observed, Mary?” Darcy asked, all seriousness.
“The rug in my room makes my steps soundless, and I have startled her with my presence on occasion. Once rummaging through my jewellery box…”
“Was anything missing?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, but I may have interrupted her before the act was completed.”
Elizabeth supposed it was possible that Martha’s practical nature could be a ruse. If it was so, she had been thoroughly fooled.
“She could have been returning something that I had borrowed, but I shall keep her under observation,” Elizabeth assured them.
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter!” Darcy called.
The butler opened the door with a card in his hands. They had been home for less than four-and-twenty hours, and yet a visitor had arrived.
The click of a cane hitting the floor resonated outside the door.
“Move!” a shrill older voice demanded.
Elizabeth rose with alacrity.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” Elizabeth exclaimed and curtsied.
“How is Anne?” Darcy enquired, concern lacing his voice.
“She is improving,” Lady Catherine imparted. “And I have instructed her not to die while I am away. I dare say my darling child has too much respect for her dear mama not to follow my orders.”
“Is she not here?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. She is at Rosings with Mrs Collins. A sensible and practical woman of great compassion. To my surprise, Mr Collins chose well for his bride. She has become a dear friend to my Anne, and I dare say the friendship is of mutual advantage. I do not observe any regret in Mrs Collins for the time she is required to attend my daughter, as she is for the duration spared her husband’s tedious company. But that is not why I have come…”
Lady Catherine’s hawk-like eyes inspected the room.
“Heaven and earth! If it is not Lady Louise. No. It cannot be…”
“It is!” Lady Louise agreed mischievously. “Mrs Darcy is my granddaughter.”
“I was indeed correct to recognise a resemblance the first time we met. You were very sly, Elizabeth, claiming only your French descent. But now I can clearly see why Mrs Darcy has made such a scandal entering the ton.”
“As the Germans say, the apple does not fall far from the tree,” Lady Louise remarked good-naturedly. “Or in this case, grandmother to granddaughter, though I must add, entirely undeserved in Mrs Darcy’s case.”
“No, I did not believe so. My nephew is a sensible man and would never have married a trollop. Which is why I have left my ailing daughter to come here and lend my support. The crux of the matter is what are we going to do about it?”
Elizabeth was too stunned to be sensible and left it to her grandmother and husband to inform Lady Catherine about the progress they had made.