Chapter Twelve #3
Viscount Bellamy shared a little of his history, declaring himself to be a fish out of water as he navigated the world his new position had opened up since he had come to London.
“My sister Rebecca was sure that some mischief would befall me, and appointed Darcy my keeper, the poor man, but I shall reassure her that we are both making far merrier than she could have imagined.”
“I admire your willingness to recover, after such loss – it can be difficult,” Mrs. Gardiner mused.
Viscount Bellamy smiled sadly. “I understand you share my plight; you must forgive me for envying your companions at such a time, Madam; I have every hope they will teach you the same philosophy I have adopted, in looking on the past only as it gives one pleasure, and occupying the present by seeking to find meaning through pleasant connections.”
“Since I love my nieces as I do my own daughters, I hope I shall recover with all the same grace, my lord,” Mrs. Gardiner replied.
“But your stepmother has invited us to the opera next week, and if the music is melancholy, I must beseech my girls to be more than usually lively. Last time I attended the opera, I was obliged to bring a spare handkerchief; my mother’s first language was Italian, and I find singing in that language to be especially overpowering, though I cannot quite master it myself. ”
They spoke of the opera, of attending the theatre and the symphony together, of visiting museums and galleries, and made so many grand plans that Elizabeth was sure she would see Mr. Darcy every day until she returned to Longbourn, and yet it was pleasant to consider.
Elizabeth only lamented that Jane could have little share in their conversation, for Mrs. Ferrars commanded her attention until the ladies finally withdrew.
In the drawing room, Elizabeth was obliged to bear her share of unpleasant attention, for while Mrs. Ferrars continued to force her conversation on Jane, her daughter Fanny Dashwood approached Elizabeth as if they were dear friends.
“How charmed my mother is by your sister! I have never seen her take to any young person with such alacrity, else I might have invited her to Norland while your cousins were in residence. But I hope they are content at Longbourn with your family; they always seem perfectly at ease wherever they go, and must feel especially at home in the country.”
“They are being treasured by relations who adore them and wish to ease their sorrows after such a great loss last year,” Elizabeth replied.
Mrs. Dashwood tutted with affected sympathy. “I am sorry if it was a disappointment for Elinor, but I did advise her mother that a closer connection to my brother Edward was quite impossible, and I have heard she had other prospects in Devon – a colonel, I believe.”
Elizabeth blinked at Mrs. Dashwood. “I refer to the loss of their father, my uncle. Your husband’s father. He was an excellent man, and my cousins were still mourning him when they left Norland Park.”
“Oh, yes – we had them with us all summer, cozy at Norland during the hardest time for them – my husband insisted upon housing them. But I am sure they are happier with your relations at Longbourn – I understand Marianne found only disappointment in Devonshire. Well, I hope you and your sister have left behind some suitable gentlemen for them in Hertfordshire, and I wish them every happiness there,” Mrs. Dashwood said with a sneer.
She leaned in a little closer, a cruel smile on her thin lips. “But how remarkable it would be, if my brother is made to put Elinor from his mind, and think of her cousin Jane, instead! Elinor will surely wish them joy.”
“I did not realize Mr. Ferrars ever thought of Elinor, beyond a polite inquiry as to my cousins’ well-being,” Elizabeth said. “And of course, he called on Christmas Eve, on his way to London. Did Mrs. Jennings never mention it?”
It was evident that Mrs. Ferrars was not aware of this. “He is a very dutiful brother, to think of my husband’s kin at Christmas. Well, he certainly means to be a dutiful son, and Mamma is quite in raptures over Jane’s gentle manners; fortune could not have been bestowed on a more obliging girl.”
“Yes, it is a fine thing that when a most unworthy heir was eliminated from the entail, my father’s daughter could inherit her own home.
I ought not speak ill of my late cousin Collins, but I believe he would have appreciated his eventual inheritance far less than the daughters of the house, who grew up there. ”
Elizabeth was satisfied that Mrs. Dashwood comprehended what she implied about Norland, and she excused herself, for she was obliged to seek out a water closet.
A few minutes later, as she was returning to the drawing room, Elizabeth paused and drew back a couple steps, then slowly peered around the corner.
Outside the drawing room door, Edward Ferrars was having a heated conversation with John Dashwood.
The latter ran his hand through his hair with a look of distress.
“And what of the sale of your father's books? Surely you and Robert have no need of the funds – Norland is at stake! For the love of God, man, there must be something you can do! Fanny would murder me if she knew I had gambled the deed, but I have begged the fellow for clemency, and he had given me six weeks to sort out some arrangement, some payment. If you married an heiress, you might lend me ten or twenty thousand….”
“It would not be right, John, and I certainly do not think it likely. I am not so certain of my mother’s favor that I could be your ally in this matter at all.”
“Have we not lost enough? Our poor son Henry in September.”
“And I still say you ought to have remained at Norland to grieve – really, John, you have been unfit for company ever since.”
John Dashwood looked near to weeping. “It was Bellamy and his brother – I was in a bad way, and things got out of hand at the club one night – and now I face ruin, unless I can win it all back, or find someone who will help me.”
Mr. Ferrars was positioned with his back to Elizabeth, but she saw his posture stiffen.
“You lost Norland to Bellamy – or his brother – and you have come to dine in his house? What are you thinking? You wanted to drink his fine brandy that badly? And with Henry gone, how was Norland even yours to wager?”
“My solicitor found a loophole in my late uncle’s will, stipulating how Norland would pass from my father to my son, or to me if….” Mr. Dashwood finally did begin to weep, his shoulders shaking, and Mr. Ferrars laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Does my mother know? Throw yourself on her mercy, John. But choose your moment – at present I think you ought to take Fanny home – I will bring her to you. Wait here.”
As Mr. Ferrars entered the drawing room, Elizabeth drew back again and concealed herself, her heart racing in her chest. She had heard from her cousins that their nephew had died of an illness not long after they left Norland, and though they had been bitter at the house passing to their half-brother, Marianne could not repine removing to Devon during the height of her ill-fated infatuation.
But that John Dashwood had lost Norland…
to one of Mr. Darcy’s cousins, this could hardly bode well.
And worse, he wished Edward to pursue an heiress – perhaps Jane – to save him from his troubles.
Elizabeth sorely wished she had not learned of this, for how was she ever to face the viscount again?
She waited where she was, trying to dispel her own dismay, until she heard the sounds of the Dashwoods taking their leave.
She waited a minute more, and then finally withdrew from her hiding place and returned to the drawing room.
She joined her sister, who instantly perceived the distress Elizabeth attempted to conceal, and subtly moved closer to her on the sofa as she spoke with the viscount and Mrs. Gardiner.
The latter was full of praise for the countess and even Lady Norah, who was proud yet not cuttingly so; Mrs. Gardiner declared her fashionable and elegant, which was better than Elizabeth could have done.
Jane was quiet, more occupied in avoiding Mrs. Ferrars’s gaze than in engaging with the viscount, but Elizabeth saw a chance to satisfy her own curiosity. “Have you any other siblings, besides the colonel and Lady Rebecca, Lord Bellamy?”
“Like yourself I am one of five, though we were once seven. We have a half-brother from my father’s second marriage, and once another sister.
My youngest brother Stephen is about Miss Bennet’s age, and was until last autumn a naval officer.
He came into some prize money and gave up his commission.
He was with us in the autumn, but he is presently visiting friends in Scotland. ”
So there were two brothers, though it could possibly be the viscount himself to whom Norland now rightfully belonged.
Elizabeth knew not how to discover if the colonel, who was even now amongst her Dashwood relations, was the owner of what ought to have been Elinor’s, had her cousin been as fortunate as Jane.
If it had been won by the viscount, the man who was presently wooing Jane, Elizabeth knew her sister would be greatly distraught by the moral quandary this presented.
When Mr. Darcy joined them and sat on Elizabeth’s other side, she could not put aside her dreadful inquisition. In a low voice, she asked, “Forgive my impatience, sir, but may I ask how long you have been acquainted with Mr. Edward Ferrars?”
“More than six years. His first year at Cambridge was my last. We have seen one another often in town since then, and I believe his mother is well acquainted with my aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“And your cousins, I suppose, are also acquainted with him and his relations.”