4
Jane awoke the next morning, restless and flustered by weird dreams. She had been standing in a church, attending Anne at her wedding to Digby Frobisher.
Astonishingly, the vicar had been Archer Maitland who had turned to her, asking why she didn’t object when she was so obviously against the match?
She had struggled to speak through her tears, wishing to say that all she wanted was for everyone to be happy, but the words would not come and Mr Maitland was laughing at her, and the church bells were ringing louder and louder—until with a start she woke to a calm morning with the soft sunlight filtering in through the windows and the bells became the brass rings on the rails as Tabitha drew back the curtains.
Thankfully the temperature seemed far more amenable; the intense heat had lifted and the very first light mists of autumn were drifting over the woodlands that she could see from her windows.
The bright green of the leaves was slowly fading and the first yellows and bronzes were appearing as the end of the year edged nearer.
It was a fine day for walking and she was keen to show Susannah and Dr Moore all the glories of Deerwood Park, the waterfall and the odd stones that she was sure would intrigue him.
She was pleased that Mr Maitland wouldn’t be accompanying them; she found it hard to picture him wandering through a woodland scene, admiring the foliage.
It was her opinion that he was more likely to admonish the leaves for turning yellow!
“Are you comfortable in your room, Tabitha?” she asked her maid as she was helping her dress. “I know this is your first time here at Deerwood. Grace Frost always maided me until she left Pemberley to take up a position in London.”
The young girl nodded as she ran a comb through the fair tangles that cascaded around Jane’s shoulders.
She was well aware of why Grace had left Derbyshire but that was not a conversation she could have with Miss Darcy.
She was quite sure her lady had no idea of the scandal that had surrounded Grace’s sudden departure with the artist Edmund Avery, just as she was sure that Jane didn’t realise all the servants knew about Mr Frobisher proposing to the wrong sister and being turned down and Miss Jane being that upset about everything.
“I’m sharing with the Italian lady’s maid, Miss. But it’s a big room up on the top floor, so we’ve plenty of space.”
“Oh, I didn’t think, of course Signorina Celeste has brought her own maid with her from Sicily.”
“Why yes, Miss Jane. Her name’s Luisa but she doesn’t speak much English and that she does speak, I can hardly understand.
” She sniffed, disdainfully. “Must admit they have odd customs in foreign parts. Us Pemberley maids know better than to speak before we are spoken to. Why Luisa chatters on to her mistress just as if they were sisters! It would never do at home.”
Jane fell silent, pondering on how brave Celeste must be to leave her own home and country and travel to England, not knowing what sort of welcome she would receive from her distant relations.
No wonder she took refuge in speaking to her maid in their own tongue: the need not to think and translate every word must be so welcome.
She tried to picture herself travelling alone to a foreign country with just a maid for company and failed.
Why, she could not remember a single time in her whole life when she had ever done anything on her own, unguarded, unchaperoned.
Even on this trip to Dorset it had been arranged that Susannah accompany her as well as Tabitha.
She hadn’t been consulted and although she was delighted to have Susannah’s company, she couldn’t help feeling aggravated that no one had asked her if this was what she wished.
She sighed; why only last year their cousin Catherine had ventured up to Northumberland on her own to work at Courtney Castle.
Miriam, their cousin from Africa, had travelled across oceans and endured all sorts of perils!
Why, even Grace, the maid who had tended her for several years had gone away on her own to work in London.
So why did her mama and papa think she needed constant protection? Was she really so feeble and helpless?
When Tabitha had finished pinning up her hair and helped her to wash and dress, she hurried downstairs, worried that she might be late because she knew her friend was an early riser.
As she had expected, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Susannah were already at breakfast. They were laughing as she entered, obviously enjoying each other’s company.
“I must apologise, Godfather, Susannah—I am tardy this morning.”
“My dear girl, think nothing of it. You were obviously tired from all the travelling and, if I had given it more consideration, I should not have invited guests to dine on your first evening here.” The Colonel beckoned to a footman who came forward with a choice of hot chocolate or cider.
“Miss Courtney has been entertaining me most diligently in your absence.”
“And is Celeste also tired this morning?” Jane asked, aware of an empty seat at the table.
The Colonel laughed. “Oh our little cousin never rises much before eleven. She is a fragile creature, you know. I am always most cautious to see that she does not overstrain herself in any way.”
Susannah raised an eyebrow at Jane and then applied herself to her bread and honey. She thought she had never seen anyone less fragile looking than the buxom Celeste, but it was not her place to say so!
“So she will not be joining us on our walk this morning?”
“No, Jane. Indeed not. And I shall stay behind to keep her
company. We have plans to catalogue some of my silver collection. Celeste loves to look at it and appreciates the finer pieces.”
“She has good taste, then.” Jane smiled across the table at her godfather. “You must inspect the Colonel’s wonderful silver, Susannah. You will surely find it of great interest. Have you shown Dr Moore yet, Godfather?”
The Colonel nodded. “Indeed I have. He was very impressed. He says he has never seen such a fine collection outside of a museum.”
“And did Mr Maitland also appreciate them? I somehow fear that anything old would be considered unfashionable by that gentleman.”
“Jane, you are too harsh! Archer Maitland does not perhaps share his friend’s enthusiasm for the ancient, but he can still recognise how important it is to have these links with the past.”
“Well, I shall look forward to inspecting the pieces myself during this holiday,” Susannah said peacefully. “But this morning I believe has been set aside for us to explore. Jane, I am keen to see the waterfall and the walk through the woods to the village you have spoken of so warmly.”
Stout shoes, bonnets and parasols were the order of the day and Susannah insisted they took a light shawl each because it would be far cooler in the deep shade of the woods.
She had no worries on her own account, but with Jane still in such an emotional state of mind, she was concerned in case she took a chill while her mood was so low.
She knew from Mrs Darcy that Jane’s health was always a concern and that she should be on her guard at all times in case she over tired herself.
Jane felt her spirits lifting as they left the gardens of Deerwood Park by a small wicker gate and followed the path that lead deep into the woods. It was a perfect day for walking and she was delighted to show Susannah the beauty of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s estate.
“The woods continue all the way to the edge of the village,” she said, slipping off her bonnet and letting it hang from its ribbons down her back.
Its closeness to her face was making her feel hotter than was comfortable.
“We can purchase a glass of milk from one of the villagers before we head back.”
“It is certainly a beautiful place, Jane. I can see why you love it so much.”
“I always feel safe here.”
“Safe? But surely you are quite safe at Pemberley? You couldn’t be more protected than in your own home.”
Jane bent to pluck a tall wild flower that was growing near the path.
It was so hard to explain that although she loved Pemberley, its vast rooms and corridors, the picture galleries, ballrooms and high painted ceilings made her feel small and insignificant.
At Deerwood Park, with the small rooms and winding passages, she felt safe and secure.
“Hallooo!”
They had reached a small stone bridge that curved up and over what should have been a busy stream, but with the drought was no more than a thin trickle. Coming towards them along the path that led back up the hillside was Dr Moore, raising his hat to them.
“Good morning, ladies! What a wonderful morning for an outing.”
“Good morning, Dr Moore!” Jane was delighted to see him, feeling the warmth of his regard, liking the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, as blue as the coat he was wearing.
“Have you walked right over the hill, Sir?” Susannah asked.
“Yes indeed, Robyns, the Goddard estate, lies on the far side of the Downs. It borders onto the sea cliffs and extends to the north up to the crest of the hill. It is a steep climb, but an easy walk down on this side. I shall put the challenge of getting home out of my mind until the time comes to leave!”
“Mr Maitland suggested I show you the odd circle of stones near the waterfall. They are extremely ancient, so I have been told.”
“I would very much like to see them, but not if it is out of your way. I would not wish you to be tired on my account.”
Jane insisted that it would be no trouble and the three of them crossed the bridge and began the climb up the path that followed the course of the stream.
“Mr Maitland is engaged on calls with his grandmother this morning, I believe?”