Chapter 1
RETURN TO NORTHANGER ABBEY: A BIRTHDAY TO CELEbrATE
“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”
— JANE AUSTEN, NORTHANGER ABBEY
July, thirteen years after the original story ended
The news shot through her like a bolt of lightning, ricocheting through her heart; the second blow nearly knocked her to the ground.
An accident. Father was dead. Frederick, her brother, was dead.
Lady Eleanor tried to grasp the mantle in her lady’s parlour to gain purchase, but as the missive slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, she joined it in a crumple.
The keening wail startled her when she realised it was her own sound.
Gasping for air was nearly impossible. Sounds became muffled.
Footsteps, murmuring voices, then silence.
Eleanor awoke to find her husband, Lord Nathaniel, the Earl of Marlington, sitting by her side, his hand firmly holding hers, deep furrows of worry on his brow.
She was in their bedchamber under the crimson-coloured toile coverlet, for which she had spent hours poring over fabric samples to select the right pattern.
It seemed such nonsense now to fret over something so trivial.
Nate and she had always shared a bedchamber, from the early years of their marriage in the vicountcy’s cottage, and even after they moved to Marlington Manor. His countenance worried her, and she wondered how long she had lain in the bed.
Her memory flashed to earlier. The letter she had received. The writing jagged, but still Henry’s, and addressed to her, not Nate. So unusual, a chill had gone down her spine immediately. She was not prepared for the contents, but there was no time to waste.
So much to do, funerals to plan, family to console, endless tasks ran through her head. It was time to bear it all with grace and fortitude—Father, the general, would expect nothing less—and face the news which had changed so much in a moment.
Feeling parched, she attempted to raise herself, but before she could, her husband was gently helping her arrange herself in a sitting position.
“My love, words fail me.” The bed dipped slightly as he lowered himself to her side to hold her close. “It is a great loss for our family.”
“Henry and Catherine must be wondering about the delay of my reply.” Holding a lace handkerchief to her eyes to help hold back the tears, grateful to have had one on her mahogany bedside table, the shuddering breaths returned.
Nate held a glass of water to her parched lips.
She took slow sips to quench her thirst. He then placed a cool cloth on her forehead.
“I took the liberty of notifying them we would arrive tomorrow. The servants are making preparations for the journey, and the children will be ready to accompany us.” He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and kissed her cheek.
“Darling, thank you so much.” Wiping a stray tear away, she regained composure. “Have the children been told?”
“Only that we’re traveling to Northanger Abbey. I thought you’d want us to tell them together.”
It was unseasonably cold for July; the heavens rained down as the town coach of the Earl and Countess Marlington pulled to a stop under the porte-cochere at Northanger Abbey.
Lady Eleanor was handed down by her husband, Lord Nathaniel—Nate, to his friends and family—followed by their children, Jerome, Phoebe, and twins Hudson and Henrietta.
Servants rushed to take their belongings as the family climbed the steps to the entrance. The great oak doors opened, and before they could be announced, Catherine was there to meet them, with Henry quickly approaching.
After solemn greetings, they adjourned to the drawing room as the children joined their cousins in the upstairs nursery.
Catherine motioned for Eleanor to sit next to her on the rich velvet brocade settee, newly purchased by the late general, as the men sat across from them in matching cognac leather chairs.
The tea was ready and warm, a soothing balm after an arduous journey.
“What details can you share?” Eleanor asked Henry.
“I know Father had been called upon to go to London after another one of Frederick’s incidents.
Father had arranged to have the matter settled quietly, and whilst they were on their return, there was a carriage accident on a bad turn.
There were no survivors.” A look between her husband and him made her wonder if there was more to the story.
Frederick had always been mischievous, but over the years his propensity for gambling and drink or worse had turned him into a different person.
The downward spiral had caused the loss of his commission as a captain, and Father had felt the disgrace deeply as his own.
To save the family’s reputation, Father intervened to discreetly give the commission to his lieutenant-colonel so Frederick could retire quietly and keep the title of captain.
Father had done all to rehabilitate Frederick, who was the eldest and heir.
The general had faith he could make him into an honourable man to run the estate.
One could only imagine the troubles Frederick could have caused in London.
Father had cleaned up too many of his mistakes over the years.
Hopefully, they would find peace together in the hereafter.
“What is needed for the arrangements?” Eleanor asked, as Catherine poured more tea for all.
Eleanor admired the teapot service, her mother’s favourite—not her father’s preferred Staffordshire—with delicate rosebuds all over the pot, cups, and fluted saucers.
While the Staffordshire china service was more formal, Mama preferred the floral set.
“I have notified the British Army and let them know we do not require their services after they deliver the general and captain by horse-drawn hearse tomorrow. I received a Letters Patent from the King and his condolences on behalf of the Crown for their service.” Henry handed the letter to Eleanor.
“That was very benevolent of His Majesty King William IV, under the circumstances.” She perused the contents before handing it to Nate; it was addressed to The Right Honourable Lord Tilney…
“What a tribute and privilege the King made in giving Father the honour Barony title. And, in turn, you will inherit by baronial relief.”
“The general’s service during the Battle of the Nile was notable and courageous, though Father never talked much of it.” Henry’s mention of their father’s long duty to the Crown reminded Eleanor that he had led in battle and was rewarded for his heroism. Mama was always proud of him.
“We’ll allow anyone in the village to pay their respects in the family chapel, and interment will be private for the family.” Henry continued discussing things with Nate as they left for the library.
“Catherine, I brought black crepe gowns for us. My modiste made them after Nate’s mama passed away. We won’t need bombazine until Michaelmas, then by Christmastide, we should be able to go back to our gowns without causing scandal.”
“Eleanor, what would I do without you?” Catherine squeezed Eleanor’s hand in thanks.
“You’re now the Lady of Northanger Abbey; your responsibilities will require more of your time.”
“Henry hasn’t decided to give up the living at Woodston.” Catherine was swirling the last dregs of tea in her cup. “I don’t know if I’m up to the challenge if he does.”
“Catherine, your mother taught you well. You will learn as you go, and having been a parson’s wife and a parson’s daughter has brought you so much love, patience, and understanding. As your sister-in-law, I will always be here for you.” Eleanor patted her hand to reassure her.
Eleanor stood and walked to the fireplace Father had always admired after he refurbished the whole house.
It was a Rumford, with marble, and had the same English china ornaments atop.
The general had put so much of himself into the abbey, leaving very little of the original architectural features.
“Henry will have no choice. He’s the heir.
He will need to assure the servants that everything will continue as before. ”
Eleanor had readied herself for bed and sat on the blue toile counterpane as Nate sat at the Chippendale secretary, working on ledgers from their own estate.
They were staying in her childhood bedchamber; not much had changed over the years.
Her mother’s portrait still adorned the wall.
“What do you know of the accident? No need to spare me.”
Nate turned in the mahogany chair to face her. “My understanding is that the general ordered the carriage to carry them as fast as possible, and the coachman took the curve rapidly. It overturned, then went over the bank.”
“What was the hurry?” Eleanor smoothed her wrap then wiped her tears. “It seemed so unnecessary to return at such haste.” Nate moved next to her and held her face gently, wiping the tears. “The general wasn’t much for London, but it’s not like him to be careless.
“We’ll probably never know, my love.” Nate continued to hold her close, their marriage truly a love match, even after all these years.
“I worry for Henry. He may have to be convinced to assume the role as the head of family and give up the living at the parsonage. It’s such a different life than the one he planned.”
“He has the advantage of having been educated at Eton and Oxford with me, and I’m sure the steward will have everything in order.”
“Henry is lucky to have you as a friend for advisement, if needed,” Eleanor whispered.
The horse-drawn hearse rolled in with a small retinue, and the King’s Army kept sentry at the chapel’s entrance, despite Henry saying it was not necessary. Because of the general’s bravery in duty, the King honoured him for services rendered to the Crown, a rarity indeed.