Chapter 5 #2
Lady Romsley cast her gaze downward. “As much as I do not like to speak of those days, you should know.” She sighed again.
“Thomas was several years my junior. In 1788, he met a young woman and fell in love. My father disapproved of her. Her father was a gentleman, but she had no connexions and little dowry. He forbade Thomas to marry her and refused to discuss the matter. My brother and the young woman eloped.”
Beside him, Georgiana gasped softly. Darcy supposed she was recalling her own near-elopement.
“It was scandalous, of course, and it was impossible to keep it quiet. After they were married, Thomas returned, his wife with him, but my father dismissed him, told him he was no longer a son of his. They fought bitterly, Thomas left, and I do not believe he ever wrote or called my father again. My father insisted my brother Robert and I also distance ourselves from him.”
“We had little choice,” the earl said. “The couple took themselves off, settled in the country somewhere.”
“I remember,” Bramwell said. “Partly, that is. I recall how enraged Grandfather Sterling was. The old earl too. He insisted we go to Ireland, did he not, until the gossip died down?”
Both the earl and countess nodded, the former saying, “We were already there by the time they married. My father had insisted we go, because people were increasingly speculating about the growing breach between my father-in-law and Thomas.”
“What happened to them?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“About five years after they married, we learnt that they had died,” Lord Romsley said. He was watching the countess carefully. To Darcy, she appeared to be feeling her grief anew.
The earl’s voice sounded coaxing and gentle as he asked, “What of this letter, my dear?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, sitting straighter and reaching for her glass.
After she had imbibed some wine, she explained, “I received it earlier today. This young woman claims she recently discovered that her father was named Thomas Sterling, and she believes he was my brother. The circumstances of her parents’ marriage and their deaths—what she knows of them—seem to confirm that she is, indeed, my brother’s daughter.
I never knew there was a child! I doubt Robert did either. As for my father…”
“He would have refused to recognise her, if he did,” the earl said.
Darcy was not sure what to think. Mostly, he could not—should not—criticise the countess’s late brother and his wife.
After all, only good fortune had prevented his fifteen-year-old sister from eloping.
Many times, he had wondered what he would have done had Wickham succeeded.
Would he have turned his back to Georgiana?
Doubtful, although some in his family might have, and he likely would have lost friends.
It seemed impossible that he would have refused to take in her child in the event that she and Wickham had died.
At least Thomas Sterling had loved his wife; he had chosen love over his father’s demands that he make a more advantageous marriage.
Doing so was wrong of him, but part of Darcy considered it noble of the man, especially twenty-odd years ago, when it was expected that one’s parents would determine whom one married.
Today, choosing affection over material considerations was more common—but only to a certain extent.
This reflection inevitably brought Elizabeth Bennet to mind.
It had not been long since he last saw her—only about a fortnight—and he trusted time would cause her image to fade.
As it was, he seemed to think of her constantly.
He would catch sight of a lady with rich brown curls, hear laughter and compare it to the musical sound Elizabeth made, or read a line in a book and imagine how she would enjoy it.
“What happened to her, to Thomas’s daughter?” Fitzwilliam asked.
“She was raised by her mother’s people in the country,” Lady Romsley said.
“She writes that she has always wished to know more about her father. I own I am not sure what to do. My parents were heartbroken by Thomas’s defiance.
I understand that he loved the girl, but to elope? I was so angry at him.”
“I know exactly what you should do, Mama!” Bramwell said. “You must write to this girl, tell her to come. Where is she? Does she live nearby?”
“She is staying with relations of some sort in London,” she said.
“Excellent!” Fitzwilliam cried. “Reply and tell her to call as soon as possible. This is an opportunity to heal the pain of the past.”
“Exactly,” Bramwell added. “She has done nothing wrong. There is no reason to be upset with her for what my uncle did. A new cousin,” he said in wonder.
He looked about the table and stopped at Darcy and Georgiana, saying, “Not your cousin, in a strict sense, but still, a new member of the family. It is rather exciting.”
“And right before the Festive Season. A Christmas gift for us all,” Fitzwilliam said, his voice showing the same satisfaction his brother’s had.
Lady Romsley’s anxious expression eased to an anticipatory one.
The earl and Georgiana also appeared pleased, and Darcy wished he could share their apparent certainty that this unexpected occurrence would turn out well.
Instead, he found himself silently praying that the long-lost niece and cousin was respectable and would not seek to use her relations’ position in life to her advantage.