Chapter 4 #2
“Mrs Hill!” he called excitedly.
Mrs Hill hurried into the hall and, the moment she saw Eleanor, burst into tears.
“My dear Miss Ella...”
“It is so very good to see you again, my dear friends,” Eleanor replied warmly, embracing them both.
Neither servant had ever believed the tale of Eleanor's death. Knowing everything that had happened twenty years earlier, they were not surprised that Mr Bennet had invented such a story.
“It is an honour to welcome you home, ma'am,” said Mrs Hill through her tears.
“Mr and Mrs Hill,” Mr Bennet interrupted, deliberately stressing his next words, “I see you have already welcomed my cousin. You may now return to your duties.”
“Your cousin?” Eleanor asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at her brother.
“Come to my study, and I shall explain everything,” replied Mr Bennet. “My wife and daughters have gone into Meryton. I gave them money for Christmas shopping so that we might have an opportunity to speak before I introduce you to the family.”
Eleanor followed him into the study.
She looked around in astonishment.
The room had been transformed into a chaotic library overflowing with books.
“I shall be brief,” said Mr Bennet. “My daughters have always believed that I once had a sister who died many years ago. That is all they know of you, and I have no desire to explain why you have suddenly returned from the dead.”
Eleanor regarded him steadily.
“I see you have not changed in the least, Thomas. Do not concern yourself. I am perfectly capable of explaining why I am very much alive... and why I was absent for so many years.”
“I do not think that would be wise. If you choose to contradict me, I shall have no alternative but to tell my daughters the truth about their dear aunt and young Captain Marcus—the gentleman who abandoned her and never honoured his promise of marriage. Frankly, I do not believe I should permit my daughters to associate too closely with a fallen woman.”
He paused before continuing.
“Let the past remain where it belongs, Ella. My daughters shall believe that you are a cousin who has come to visit us, and everyone will be perfectly content. And do not imagine that because you have acquired a little money in Canada—doing heaven knows what—you may return here and dictate how things are to be done in my house. I trust you have not forgotten that I am the master of Longbourn.”
Eleanor quickly realised that Thomas had no idea who she had become. Evidently, when his daughters had spoken of Lady Campbell, it had never occurred to him that they were referring to his own sister.
Twenty years earlier, her greatest mistake had been trusting Thomas.
She would not repeat it.
For the present, she decided to accept his conditions. Before acting, she wished to know more about his family.
“Very well, Thomas. Tell your daughters that I am your cousin. The truth is that it matters very little to me. I only wish to know them.”
“If you have nothing better to do and choose to waste your time, I have no objection,” Mr Bennet replied with a mocking smile. “They are merely a collection of foolish girls, much like their mother.”
Eleanor made no reply.
That was how the Bennet men had always regarded the women of their family, and Thomas had proved no different.
“Well, now that we are in agreement, I shall ask Hill to have your things taken to the guest chamber. Fanny and the girls should return before dinner, and I shall introduce you to the family. My wife already knows of our little arrangement, so you need not concern yourself with that.”
He picked up his book once more.
“Now, if you will excuse me, I should like to continue my reading.”
He dismissed his sister with a casual wave of his hand.
“I shall see you at dinner, Thomas,” Eleanor replied quietly.
Lady Campbell's servants carried her luggage to the guest chamber, after which she dismissed them. They would remain at the inn in Meryton, as Longbourn could not comfortably accommodate her entire staff. Only her maid would stay behind.
Before the family returned, Eleanor went for a walk through the gardens.
They were the only part of the estate that remained in excellent condition. Someone had clearly devoted great care to their maintenance.
When she reached the far end of the garden, she sat upon the old bench beneath the willow tree beside the stream.
She could not help thinking of Marcus.
It was there that he had kissed her, embraced her, and promised to love her forever the last time they had seen one another.
“Marcus... how I wish I had never met you,” Eleanor whispered, brushing away the tears that had begun to fall.
◆◆◆
Lord Reginald Sinclair, his wife Lady Emma, their daughter Lady Claire, and Lord Reginald's brother, General Sinclair, arrived at Matlock House shortly after Lord and Lady Westcliff.
Lady Westcliff had always disliked Lady Samantha. The two ladies had been educated at the same seminary and had maintained a peculiar friendship ever since, one founded more upon rivalry than affection.
When Lillian married Viscount Robert Campbell, her husband's family possessed little beyond an ancient title and considerable debts. Samantha had taken great pleasure in making disparaging remarks about the Campbells' reduced circumstances.
Fortunately, Daniel Campbell became one of the wealthiest men in Canada and restored the family's fortunes. Lillian could not deny the satisfaction she felt in knowing that Samantha remained an unmarried woman of five-and-thirty.
Recently, however, she had heard a rumour that Samantha intended to set her cap at the distinguished General Sinclair, brother-in-law to one of her fashionable acquaintances.
Lillian had no intention of allowing that to happen.
Instead, she meant to introduce her newly widowed sister-in-law, Lady Campbell, to the general.
She had often heard her husband speak of him and believed that a woman of Eleanor's intelligence, dignity, and fortune would appeal far more to a gentleman as reserved and thoughtful as General Sinclair.
Men of his character appreciated sensible conversation rather than empty flattery.
The thought of Samantha's disappointment should General Sinclair instead fall in love with the immensely wealthy and elegant Lady Campbell amused her greatly.
With so many rivalries simmering beneath the surface and conversation flowing freely, dinner proved lively indeed.
Mr Darcy found himself seated beside Lady Claire. Although they conversed politely upon indifferent subjects, neither particularly enjoyed the exchange.
Lady Claire's attention wandered repeatedly towards Colonel Fitzwilliam, listening with evident interest whenever he spoke.
Mr Darcy, meanwhile, found himself making an unfair comparison.
Lady Claire's eyes were not as beautiful as Elizabeth's, nor did they possess the animation that made Elizabeth's so remarkable.
The two ladies were entirely different. Elizabeth was lively, witty, and never hesitated to express her opinions with intelligence and conviction. Lady Claire, by contrast, answered every question with perfect politeness but rarely ventured an opinion of her own.
Nor, Mr Darcy admitted to himself, did she possess Elizabeth's uncommon beauty.
As the evening wore on, he could not help wondering whether this would become the pattern of the rest of the Season.
Would every lady he met inevitably be measured against the one woman he could never hope to marry?
Lady Claire, meanwhile, spent much of the evening listening to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
She was a gentle young woman of nearly four-and-twenty. Thanks largely to her uncle's protection, she had thus far escaped the marriages her mother had attempted to arrange for her.
After dinner, Richard seated himself beside her, and later turned the pages of her music while she played the pianoforte.
It was the first time in his life that a lady had seemed to prefer his company to Darcy's.
From the moment he first met Lady Claire, Richard had sensed that she was unlike most fashionable young women, and that evening only confirmed his impression.
General Sinclair observed the growing understanding between his niece and the Colonel with quiet satisfaction.
He knew his sister-in-law hoped to see Claire married to Mr Darcy, yet something in the Derbyshire gentleman's manner displeased him.
Mr Darcy's attentions had been courteous, but cold and distant. He appeared proud, reserved, and altogether too conscious of his own consequence.
Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, had known Claire since she was a child. The General had always found him open-hearted, honourable, and cheerful.
Should his interest in Claire prove sincere, he would gladly give the match his blessing.
"General, you cannot imagine how delighted I was to learn that you would be joining us this evening. I have been longing for another opportunity to speak with you," Lady Samantha said with a practised smile.
General Sinclair looked at her with polite indifference.
He had never understood why ladies such as Lady Samantha persisted in pursuing his attention when everyone who knew him understood perfectly well that he had no intention of courting any woman.
From the opposite side of the drawing-room, Mr Darcy observed the scene and could not help feeling a measure of sympathy for General Sinclair. He himself had so often been the object of similar attentions that he immediately understood the gentleman's discomfort.
Wishing to rescue him, Mr Darcy crossed the room and entered into conversation with the General.
Lady Samantha attempted to join them, but after several unsuccessful efforts to direct the conversation towards herself, she soon grew bored and withdrew to speak with her sister.
Before the company dispersed, Lady Westcliff decided it was the perfect moment to put her plan into motion.