Chapter 16 Welcome Home #2
“What happened then?”
Jennings continued the story. “She seemed brittle and angry for a time. Bates found her on New Year’s Day, having imbibed a bit too much of the brandy in the library; but other than that, she learned to cope.
She asked Mrs Reynolds and me to teach her about the estate, so we did our best. She learned the names of all the staff but never issued any orders, beyond moving some furniture and occasional refreshments. ”
“How did she do with the instruction?” Darcy asked in genuine curiosity.
“I do not know about Mrs Reynolds, but I do not believe I taught her a single thing.”
Reynolds concurred, but Darcy looked confused, so Jennings clarified. “I do not mean she was incapable of learning. It is just that I did not find anything she did not already know. She was perfectly capable of acting as mistress the day she appeared.”
“I showed her the household books and discovered she already knew everything I could teach her. That took a single day. All the other duties of a mistress, she at least knew, even though she did not exercise any of her authority. Her questions about the tenants were detailed and insightful, and she did make some suggestions for things I might think of doing.”
Darcy restlessly got up from the chair, went over to a side table, and poured himself a brandy, thinking that Mrs Darcy’s New Year’s idea was sounding more appealing by the minute.
“Then what?”
“You had not assigned her a lady’s maid, so she purloined the lowest-ranking servant in the house, one Molly Hatcher, because she already knew her from somewhere, which was decidedly odd. Molly was from Lambton, born and bred, but Mrs Darcy asked for her by name the very first day.”
“Interesting.”
“It seemed a small thing to allow her Molly’s exclusive use, and since she abandoned the idea of formal dining, I did not really need another scullery maid. I only hired her because you were getting married.”
Darcy drank his brandy down in one gulp and poured another, chuckling over the fact that he had not quite escaped France yet.
“That was well done, Mrs Reynolds. I am glad you did it. What did the two of them get up to?”
“They explored just about every inch of the park that you can reach on foot. They walked into Lambton and back several times a week. She spent a great deal of time in the bookshop. Mr Bartlet did not mind, and the last month or so, she seemed to meet several of the local gentlemen there.”
Darcy grunted, not at all certain he liked that idea, but since he had known Mr Bartlet since he had been breeched and spent considerable time in the shop himself, he knew he need not worry about anything untoward.
Her reputation might be suspect over meetings during her supposed mourning; but it sounded like the Darcy reputation was in tatters anyway, and they would survive it, just as Darcys had survived scandals before, for six hundred years.
“That is good. Bartlet would not let anything bad happen, and I suppose she was starved for companionship.”
“I suppose so, but if you want to know what she was thinking, he is probably your best bet.”
“Back to the beginning. She got her maid, and—”
“Believe it or not, she was teaching Molly to read. She was just a young girl from Lambton, certainly not a lady’s maid, but I believe Mrs Darcy wanted to ensure she had an ally when you returned.
She did not want you to have any excuse to force another maid on her—or at least, that was my assumption. ”
Darcy hung his head, not able to contradict the idea.
“She also offered to teach other servants, and a few, including Noah, the footman that went away with her, joined in. I believe he had an interest in Molly, but that is pure speculation,” Mrs Reynolds added.
“You say she walked into Lambton? That is five miles, a good hour and a half in good weather, and more in winter—each way. You are saying she did that regularly?”
“Yes sir. She did not call for the carriage even once, but in mid-March she started taking lessons from Longman, and rode for several hours regularly. I surmised that became the best part of her day. She also managed to get pianoforte lessons without paying overly much. After she started riding, she rode to Lambton more often than not, with Longman or a groom as escort.”
Darcy sighed. “I left instructions not to use the coach more than twice a week. I suppose she took that very literally.”
Mrs Reynolds was wringing her hands, so Darcy said, “Out with it, Alice. You have known me since I was four years old. If you have something to say, pray say it. We are all friends here.”
Saying the words in plain English, Darcy realised that there was some truth in them that he had never quite recognised before.
His parents had drilled into him the need to maintain a sort of barrier between the servants and the gentry, and he had taken them at their word most of his life.
He, of course, made sure everyone in his employ was well paid, well taken care of, pensioned well at the end of their tenure, looked after in sickness and health, and everything else that made an efficient estate—but he always held himself aloof—separate.
He wondered if it was a mistake making the barrier permeable, but at that moment, he could not care less.
He just wanted to find his wife, and he would camp out in the servants’ attics if he thought it would help.
Mrs Reynolds, somewhat startled that the master had used her given name for the first time in some years, said, “Sir, she asked for a clean copy of your instructions for her own records. She said something at the end of the ill-fated visit from the Matlocks.”
Darcy’s head snapped up in alarm. “Visit from the Matlocks?”
“Yes sir. They visited on May Day. They did not make a very good impression on Mrs Darcy, nor did she make a good impression on them—though—”
Her pausing and tiptoeing around the truth was frustrating Darcy, but he knew it was his fault, so he gently just looked at her with permission to speak freely.
“They made up their minds before they walked in the door. They had her convicted, sentenced, and hanged, before she ever came to trial. She never had a chance.”
Darcy glanced at the brandy sitting on the table and exerted all the iron-willed discipline he possessed to leave it. “What happened?”
“Your wife spoke to them for perhaps a quarter-hour and refused to offer them hospitality.”
Darcy gasped, and even started out of his chair, but it only lasted a second before he slumped down. “I did leave explicit instructions that she was not to entertain.”
“Yes sir. She told them if they needed a room to beg me for it, and then—”
“Go on,” Darcy prompted gently.
“She just disappeared until they left. They stayed four days, thinking they would break her down eventually, but she did not speak to them again until they were under the portico, ready to board. I believe Bates showed her the hidden staircases, so she frequently came and went with nobody the wiser. She could have ignored them easily.”
Darcy just shook his head, feeling an incipient headache coming on. “Bates would do that, and I would not blame him. Have you any idea what she did in the interim?”
Quite to his shock, Knight, who had been keeping quiet, probably worried about his job, laughed.
Darcy looked at him, and the steward chuckled. “Longman taught her to ride Omega.”
“Omega!” Darcy exclaimed. He remembered the horse, which was at least three hands too large for his wife, and disagreeable to boot, though he still brought in good stud fees, because he was the most beautiful animal he owned, then continued in shock. “Omega is far too big for her.”
Knight chuckled. “On that score, sir, you are entirely mistaken! I suspect Longman put her up to it, but she took to that horse like a duck to water. When the Matlocks left, she let them get to that wide stretch before Lambton, and rode by them, running like the wind. I heard about it from a drover who witnessed it. He said she looked like a Valkyrie.”
Darcy vacillated between feeling scandalised and feeling proud of his wife, but the scandal portion was soon snuffed out by a feeling of hope.
He was absolutely, certainly, definitely in her brown books, and unlikely to emerge soon, but to have a wife who would pull that kind of stunt just because she could—that would be something!
Mrs Reynolds said, “You know I am not in the habit of overhearing, but I believe the mistress set herself up to say something that nobody but your aunt, uncle, and myself could hear.”
“What did she say?”
Mrs Reynolds thought carefully. “It was quite stark. I can repeat it close to word for word. She said, ‘My lord, my lady, pray, let me be clear. As I surmised and you verified, I am in some danger of being cast aside in some thoroughly unpleasant way. There is very little I can do to change the outcome, but what I can do, I will. My husband, if he ever returns, may find me unhandsome, he may find me impertinent, he may find me a bluestocking, he may find me insufficiently accomplished—any or all of these he may find. What he will not find me is disobedient. If he wants to put me aside, it will be on his own head, not mine. I will follow all his instructions to the letter, and I will not allow anyone to disrupt that.’”
The words felt like a hammer blow, and he really wondered if that had been her purpose. If her aim had been to disgrace him among his family, and trigger nearly crippling feelings of shame and guilt, she had succeeded admirably.
He leaned back in the chair and started rubbing his temples.
“Should I get you some laudanum?” Mrs Reynolds asked in concern.
“No thank you, but I do believe some willow-bark tea might not go amiss. I will save the laudanum for emergencies.”
Mrs Reynolds looked sceptical about the master’s desire to extend his pain, but she went to the doorway and made the request, then returned to her seat.
Darcy said, “I suppose I should have the rest. I assume it gets worse, or at least not better?”
Jennings said, “She seemed to be all right after the Matlocks left for some weeks, and then she had another visitor—Miss Caroline Bingley.”
“I assume that went badly.”
“You assume incorrectly. They got along famously. They talked for several hours in the parlour, then she ordered a formal dinner.”
“I thought it was rather funny,” Jennings added. “She asked for the dinner if we ‘still remembered how.’”
Darcy had to chuckle along with his staff. That sounded just like her, and he would dig deeper into that dinner, but something told him there were other, more important things.
“And?”
“They did not dress. The mistress wore, I think, the dress from the first day, and Miss Bingley wore what she arrived in. The lady left the next morning, and we have not heard from her since.”
Darcy spent several minutes trying to wrap his mind around the idea of a pleasant conversation between Mrs Darcy and Miss Bingley, but he found himself quite incapable. “That was unexpected. Did Mrs Darcy maintain her happiness after that?”
Everyone looked at each other, and Jennings finally picked up the thread.
“She did until—”
Frustrated, Darcy snapped, “Until? Until what?”
“Until Lady Catherine’s visit.”
“Lady Catherine was here. She was HERE?” Darcy gasped.
His shouts would have embarrassed him to no end at any other time, but to have his very worst relative poking her nose in his business sounded like the worst of all possible developments.
“Yes sir. Like your other aunt and uncle, Lady Catherine came to draw blood, but—”
He ground to a stop, not quite willing to say the rest, so Knight took pity on him, strongly suspecting his days might be numbered anyway.
“Perhaps your aunt came to draw blood, but in the end, your wife did.”
“What do you mean?”
Jennings picked up the thread. “I stayed outside the door, being not exactly unfamiliar with your aunt.”
Darcy chuckled grimly, more in consternation than humour.
“The conversation was indistinct, but the tone of it was not auspicious. I sent every footman and maid far away—just in time as it turned out. Your aunt’s voice started rising to a full-on screech, and Mrs Darcy’s voice escalated to match.
By the time the encounter was over they were shouting at each other.
Then Mrs Darcy ejected her ladyship bodily.
She dragged her by her ear publicly down the front steps, heaved her into the coach, and told her not to come back before you did, unless she wanted to become intimately familiar with the dogs. ”
“Have you any idea what was said?”
“I know exactly what was said, but I will not repeat it within fifty yards of a woman as admirable as Mrs Reynolds.”
The housekeeper reached over and slapped the butler with unexpected familiarity, but she did not correct him. “I heard them myself. You are better off not knowing.”
“How bad?”
“Imagine the worst thing your aunt has ever said and double it, then further imagine her hurling it at someone who gives as good as she gets. It was… brutal, if I am honest. Lady Catherine is lucky she left with her hair intact.”
Darcy groaned. “Good Lord, between myself and my relatives, she must have felt trapped.”
Knight spoke up. “She did, sir. I spoke to her not long after that and offered her my sincerest apology, as I had come to my senses by then.”
“What did she do?”
Knight looked thoroughly abashed. “She stared at me for a moment as if she were measuring the worthiness of my soul and finding it wanting. After a good deal of that, she finally said, ‘I accept your apology,’ then turned and walked away.”
Darcy could see that Knight had expected more from the mistress, but whether the steward expected a tongue-lashing or a slightly higher level of forgiveness was anybody’s guess. He was a good steward, but between the two of them, they had the sense of a donkey and the temper of a badger.
Knight continued, “She spent the last month at the bookshop. She rode Omega out early every morning and came back late at night, much to Longman’s consternation. Then she was just… gone… like a puff of smoke.”
Darcy leaned forward in his chair and regretted that his pride would not let him wallow in his sorrow and weep. It might have been a fitting end to the discussion.
Instead, he rubbed his temples. “Have you looked for any clues in her room?”
“No sir. When we got the note, I did not want to violate her privacy and had no idea what to do if we did learn something. We discussed it and decided to just lock the doors and wait for your return.”
Darcy thought the action was probably as good as any other. “Well then, I suppose we should go take a look.”