Chapter 39 #2
Tim realised that he had blocked out all the words of support that had been spoken on the Bennets and their family’s previous visit that his new brother had just reminded him of.
In addition, he had not absorbed Helen’s words at their father’s grave about having a large family to help him, he was feeling very much alone because he was imposing loneliness on himself unnecessarily.
As Tim Jacobson finally started to accept that he was not alone, that he had more people to turn to than many could claim, he succumbed to grief.
Venting it in both hurt and sadness, it was for the losses of both his father and his mother in little more than a two-year span.
Darcy sat quietly, allowing the young man to mourn his father and relieve the pressure of his sorrow that had been building for too long without relief.
Once Tim got himself under regulation, he started to feel a lot better.
He felt a release of tension as the weight of self-inflicted pressure lifted from his shoulders.
He no longer needed to put on a brave face and in combination with knowing that he and Helen would be fully supported by a family that welcomed them in ways unheard of, allowed him to accept that after they had mourned their Papa all would be well.
When they returned to the drawing room Elizabeth glanced at Tim, and in seeing his red eyes she understood that her husband had given him a chance to grieve so that the healing could begin. ‘He is really the best of men,’ the young countess told herself. ‘How I love that man to distraction!’
For the five days that the family resided at Janet’s Well they supported the Jacobsons in whatever way they required.
The afternoon before their departure, the men met in the study with Tim and his steward as Lord Longbourn suggested that Tim return to Town with them.
They would stay in London so the girls could reside at home when not at school.
His joining them would allow the Jacobson siblings to mourn together and support each other.
When Tim objected saying that there was too much to oversee at the estate, Bennet countered that it was exactly what Steveton was there for.
The steward agreed wholeheartedly and pointed out that as the Earl had said that he would leave one of the Bennet couriers behind so that any messages that needed to go back and forth would be delivered in but a few hours.
With Bennet pushing and his two sons-in-law backing him up, Tim relented and agreed to accompany the family to London. They left the following morning with the Jacobsons riding in a carriage with Lydia, Kitty, and Georgie.
In another carriage conveying the two oldest Bennet daughters and their husbands, Darcy was leaning back against the squabs with his eyes closed.
He did not realise how much Jacobson’s death and Tim’s reaction had awoken memories that he had tried to bury.
Lulled by the rocking of the coach, he drifted off into his own world remembering his dear Mama, Lady Anne Darcy.
Young Darcy was twelve when Georgie was born.
Over the twelve years since his birth there had been four miscarriages.
The last had weakened his mother, but she was determined to deliver another child.
When she became enceinte again, her husband had been very concerned, as the physician had opined that his Lady wife should never have tried to fall with child again.
She was so happy when she had felt the quickening; then the pregnancy had progressed past the start of month eight.
There was no miscarriage this time and no matter how wan his mother looked she was always happy.
A baby girl had been born and named for both her mother and father, hence Georgiana.
He had been told that his mother had bled too much and had passed out soon after safely delivering her blond haired, blue eyed daughter.
Both he and his father had been beside themselves with worry.
It had taken his Mama eight days to wake up after Georgie was born.
She eventually was well enough to get out of bed three weeks later, but she was never the same.
She needed to sit after walking a short distance, footmen had to help her up and down the stairs in a bath chair, and she never regained her healthy colour.
God gave them almost three years with her after he granted them Georgie, but after a raging fever that started as a trifling cold, He called her home.
His father was never the same after that.
He loved his children and cared for them, but he never stopped mourning his wife and William believed that his broken heart made that same organ susceptible to the infection that weakened it and eventually caused him to pass.
He lived until his son returned from Cambridge and then a year and a half later George Darcy went to his beloved Anne.
The son had been very angry that the father had left him.
He felt that he was all alone, except that he had not been.
The Fitzwilliams were there to support him and so was the new steward Stilton who had taken the place of Wickham senior who had passed not many months before his master.
Part of his defence mechanism was to withdraw and wear his mask to discourage people from approaching him.
If he did not allow people close then they could not leave him.
As he sat in the carriage with his beloved wife opposite him, he acknowledged that if he were ever to lose his Elizabeth, who had bewitched him body and soul, that like his father, he too would have a hard time carrying on without his soulmate.
His wife had noticed the expressions crossing her husband’s face as he allowed the memories to wash over him and requested that her brother swap seats with her so that she could sit next to her husband.
Once she was seated, she placed her head on his shoulder and his muscular arm enveloped her and held her to him.
“She is a balm to my soul. I could not imagine my life without her in it. How I love my dearest, loveliest wife,’ Darcy thought.
It did not take long for both embracing couples to be claimed by sleep.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Mary and Hugh Rhys-Davies, the Marquess and Marchioness of Birchington, were getting ready to travel to Town for the little season.
Since their return from the wedding trip, Mary had become quite comfortable running her own home as the mistress of Birchington.
The estate was larger than Bennet Park but smaller than Pemberley.
Rose and Haywood Rhys-Davies lived on their estate, Woburn Abbey, which was close to the town of Bedford not much more than thirty miles from Longbourn.
Hugh’s sisters had returned to their estates with their husbands and preferred to stay there for the little season, though they would be in London for the season starting in February of the coming year.
The Duke and Duchess had spent three days with their son and daughter-in-law.
They would all travel to town with a stop at Snowhaven for the weekend.
When they continued, they would be joined by the Fitzwilliams at Snowhaven for the rest of the journey to London.
Mary, who was always as regular as clockwork just like her sisters, had just missed her courses.
She did not want to say anything to raise Hugh’s hopes until she missed the following one as well.
She did not feel ill like Lizzy had, and she did not expect to feel any effects; yet if she was with child, then she was in the earliest of stages when little or nothing would be felt.
She had prayed that she did not follow her mother with early onset sickness in the morning.
She did note that her breasts were more tender than they had been in the past. She felt sad that as soon as her state was confirmed she would have to stop riding her mount Callisto.
As nothing was confirmed, her mare would be one of the horses that would make the journey to Town with them.
Although she knew that they were at their estate far away from London, Mary still felt guilty that she had not been there to support her newest sister after Mr Jacobson had passed. Her feelings were mitigated due to the distance, but not ameliorated.
Birchington could understand why his wife felt the way she did but tried to get her to see that she was feeling guilty about something that she had no control over. His Mary was a very caring woman and he thanked God above each and every day for allowing them to meet.
On Saturday morning just after sunup, the carriages departed for Snowhaven.
They were welcomed at the Fitzwilliam’s estate a little after nine in the morning.
After washing off the travel dust they joined the inhabitants to break their fasts.
After breakfast the two younger married couples and Tiffany went for a leisurely ride and Mary found herself trotting next to Tiffany on her bay mare.
“Are you in anticipation of partaking in limited events during the little season to prepare you for your coming out during the season?” Mary asked with a gentle smile.
“Yes, I am so very excited,” Tiffany bubbled with evident joy.
“I am much pleased that Kitty and Loretta will be sharing the experience with me. We celebrated my eighteenth birthday a fortnight ago. Kitty’s birthday is in November and Loretta’s is at the beginning of February, right before the season starts. ”
“It did work out well, did it not?” Mary observed playfully, “and the following year, Helen and Georgie will follow. Lydia still has an additional year to wait. At least we get to keep Lily for another four to five years before she has to traverse her rite of passage.”