Mr. Darcy's Daughter (24 page)

"The
women see her as a wicked, selfish creature, who has deserted her husband and
child, while the men think she is a stupid woman who has been gulled into leaving
a decent man for a charlatan. No one has a good word for Barrett, except Miss
Hetty Wallace-Groom, who claims that Aunt Josie seduced him away from
her!"

Darcy
was scathing. "It would be laughable, if it were not so tragic, especially
for poor Uncle Julian, who is portrayed as a decent but weak man, a book-worm
who allowed another man to steal his wife from under his nose, without a word
of protest!"

Neither
Lizzie nor her mother, to whom he revealed these appalling tales, was
surprised. It was the sort of gossip one expected to hear in London. They
begged him, however, not to let his grandparents hear of it.

"It
would break their hearts," said Cassy. "As for Julian, he will soon
be out of it for some time, when he goes to Paris. It will do him good to be
among men who are his equal in intelligence and education."

Another
matter, closer to home, had been settled, too. Cassandra had engaged young
Margaret Baines, who had arrived accompanied by her mother, who had agreed to
the terms proposed for her employment.

Mrs.
Baines, herself a widow, lived alone and asked if her daughter could return
home at night, after work. Margaret, she had said, was her only companion, and
Cassandra had made no objection.

Since
the majority of her work would concern the care of the two little boys, it was
quite possible, she said, to let the girl return home each night, unless there
was some exceptional circumstance. She could also have Sundays off to spend
with her mother. It was an arrangement that pleased every one of the parties.

Cassy
was happy with her choice. Margaret Baines was a good-humoured, pleasant girl
with a bright smile and a lustrous head of auburn hair that belied her gentle
and compliant manner. She would be good for the children, Cassy thought, and
arranged for her to start work at the house the following week. Mrs. Baines was
delighted, too. She had served Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley and thought it fitting
that her daughter should be chosen to work for Miss Cassandra.

It
was also the week when Edward announced that he was courting the daughter of
the senior partner in his medical practice and told his mother he would like
his parents to meet Miss Angela Anderson, who had graciously consented to be
his wife.

Cassandra
agreed, even though she had had very little notice of her son's inclination to
marry the lady. Indeed, except for a dinner party at which both families had
been present, Cassy hardly knew Miss Anderson at all. Edward had kept his
interest very quiet indeed.

Naturally,
she asked some questions and then wrote a note inviting Miss Anderson and her
younger sister Catherine to lunch with the family on Sunday.

Edward
would take it to her on the following day; he was sure she would accept, he
said.

Cassy
was pleased. Here, at last, was something wholesome and happy to occupy them.
Miss Anderson would soon become the subject of speculation and study--from her
looks and clothes to her nature, her taste in books and music, and, of course,
the size of her fortune. Of the latter, they confidently predicted it would be
quite reasonable. Her father was a senior physician and surgeon and had a very
large and lucrative practice in Derby, catering primarily to the needs of the
wives and children of rich bankers and businessmen. That Edward had courted and
won her with such discretion, waiting until he was sure both of her feelings
and his own, was truly typical of his unassuming and careful nature, said his
mother.

"Edward
is not the sort to rush headlong into a marriage," she said, adding with a
sigh, "but then, neither was Julian!"

When
Cassy told her husband the news, he seemed pleased, especially since he knew
the lady's father in a professional capacity.

"He
is a very distinguished physician of high repute," he told Cassy, and
added that he had also met Miss Anderson when she had accompanied her father to
a meeting of the medical fraternity to honour Miss Florence Nightingale.
"She is by no means a bashful or unlearned young woman," said
Richard, recalling that she had shown a good deal of interest in Miss
Nightingale's ideas on hospital hygiene and the prevention of disease.

"She
is their eldest daughter and is much loved by her parents; Edward is a
fortunate fellow to have gained their consent," he added, causing his wife
to protest with vigour that her Edward was himself very clever, with a good
future ahead of him and was such a fine young man that he should be considered
a good match for any young lady in the county.

Her
husband, amused at the strength of her loyalty and her spirited defence of
their son, agreed, but not before he had teased her a little longer, rousing
even more passionate claims on Edward's behalf.

Cassy's
unyielding fidelity to her family, whether it was her parents, her in-laws, or
her husband and children, was absolute. She would do or say anything to defend
them against anyone. It was an endearing trait that had always amused her
husband.

*

Miss
Anderson accepted the invitation for herself and her sister Catherine and so
did the Rector, Mr. Gray, and his wife.

There
was, therefore, quite a large party assembled for dinner on the Sunday, which
had started without much promise but turned out very fair indeed. Edward and
his lady, who, it was generally agreed, was quite amiable and pretty, but not
really beautiful, were to sit beside Cassy, with the Rector and Mrs. Gray,
while Lizzie found herself seated between her father and Mr. Carr, with her
brother Darcy and Laura Ann opposite her.

They
were all united on the excellence of the meal and sent many compliments to the
cook, but there soon appeared to be a distinct divergence in the content and
tenor of the conversation at the two ends of the dining table. While Edward,
his mother, Miss Anderson, and her sister Catherine chatted quietly and soberly
with the Rector and Mrs. Gray about subjects that raised not a very high level
of excitement, at the other end of the table, Darcy, Lizzie, and Mr. Carr
entertained themselves and Dr Gardiner with lighthearted prognostications and
hilarious speculation about the possible outcome of the election and how
disconcerted the Queen would be if Palmerston, rather than Lord Derby, won the
day. Darcy Gardiner's impersonations of the royal personage and Lord Palmerston
had them greatly amused.

Mr.
Carr confessed that he had a problem of understanding, too. Having spent most
of his life in two republics, he claimed he could not comprehend the role of
the Queen in English politics. The Queen, whom he described as "a rather
glum-looking lady in black" (which remark he was immediately forced by
young Laura Ann to "withdraw or be tried forthwith for treason"), had
no real constitutional power, he said, yet all the politicians seemed to be
vying for her approval!

"I
confess, I find this to be strange in the extreme," he remarked.

"But,
no stranger, surely," said Lizzie, "than the role of a President who
must send an American army to subdue other Americans who demand freedom for
themselves, but refuse to free their slaves?"

This
adroit riposte brought instant and willing capitulation from Mr. Carr.

"Touche,
Miss Gardiner, I have no answer to that conundrum."

"I
can see you are going to need a few lessons in English history, Mr. Carr,"

said
Richard, and Darcy declared that Lizzie would be the best person to teach him,
since she was a great student of history herself.

This
brought on a further lively discussion, which continued through dessert, until
it was time for the ladies to withdraw to the drawing room.

While
there had been a good deal of conversation on a range of subjects through the
evening, there was an unspoken conspiracy of silence on the one topic that was
uppermost in the minds of many in the family, for no one had mentioned either
Julian or Josie at all.

Lizzie
felt for her mother, knowing how concerned she was for her brother; yet now,
they were all behaving as if he did not exist. No one spoke of him anymore, yet
he had done nothing wrong except to be guilty of too great a concentration upon
his work.

Perhaps,
thought Lizzie, this constituted neglect of his wife and had helped destroy her
love for him. Lizzie had not worked out, in her own mind, how deeply either
party was to blame for the debacle that followed, but she was absolutely
certain of the culpability of Mr. Barrett and his friend Mr. Jones.

When
the gentlemen returned to the drawing room, the pianoforte was opened and the
ladies and gentlemen were invited to entertain the party.

While
Miss Anderson modestly declined, her young sister obliged with a spirited
rendition of a march by Schubert that would have had anyone who was feeling
drowsy instantly wide awake. The generous applause she received encouraged her
to give them another, less vigorous piece, after which Lizzie was urged to take
her place at the instrument.

Lizzie
was a confident and talented pianist, for she'd had many years of study with
her cousin William Courtney, who was now a very distinguished practitioner. She
played one or two fine compositions that had everyone demanding more and then,
to the very great delight of at least one member of the party, she played and
sang "Les Petites Oiseaux."

Before
leaving, Mr. Carr thanked his hosts most sincerely and made a point of telling
their daughter how much he had enjoyed her singing. Lizzie smiled,
acknowledging his praise, and when he expressed the hope that he would hear her
sing again, said, without affectation, "Of course, Mr. Carr, and thank you
for the song."

Michael
Carr had observed Miss Gardiner as she talked, played, sang, and then helped
her mother with the tea, all it had seemed to him, in a most charming manner.
He could not recall another young lady whose every quality and action had been
so pleasing to him.

And
she was exceedingly pretty, too.

*

The
Summer of 1865 was memorable for many reasons.

Darcy
Gardiner had returned to Westminster and then proceeded to Hertfordshire, where
Mr. Colin Elliott was engaged in an exhilarating election campaign to hold off
a Tory opponent, one who claimed that civilisation itself would be at risk if
the Reformists had their way and Mr. Gladstone were to form a government. It
was a campaign that had worked often, but on this occasion appeared not to be
credible.

In
July, to their chagrin, the Tories faced defeat again and, to the immense
delight of Colin Elliott, James Wilson, and his other supporters, it seemed
that their campaign for reform was back on the agenda. Lord Russell had given Mr.
Gladstone a cast-iron promise, and even the return of Palmerston as leader
could not dull their jubilation. He was eighty after all and would soon have to
retire. In fact, three months later, Palmerston was dead and Lord Russell took
over leadership of the party.

Returning
triumphant from London, Darcy Gardiner was immediately dragooned by his sisters
into helping with preparations for the country dance, which he had persuaded
his friend Mr. Carr to give at Rushmore Farm. There was much to be done and
very little time left in which to get it done. His help, they said, was
absolutely vital to the success of the occasion.

Cassandra
had been too busy with her father's estate to offer much more than
encouragement to Mr. Carr in organising his first important social function at
Rushmore Farm, but both Lizzie and Laura Ann had been active in assisting with
plans and suggestions, as well as practical help, during the days leading up to
the dance. It was fortunate for them that little Anthony and James had both
taken so quickly and happily to their new companion, Margaret Baines, who was
proving invaluable, so releasing them to assist Mr. Carr.

At
the farm, many things had to be organised precisely.

Unlike
at Pemberley, there was no ballroom, which meant the indoor spaces had to be
cleared and made ready for dancing, while a great marquee was erected on the
lawn for the diners and drinkers, who were expected to far outnumber the
dancers.

Workmen
had to be found to erect a stage for the musicians and a host of men and women
were engaged to cook and serve the food, which had to be plentiful. Mr. Carr
was determined that he would not be seen as some skinflint who let his guests
go home hungry.

Looking
at the lists he had prepared, Lizzie declared there was certainly no danger of
that, rather there might well be many cases of indigestion caused by
over-indulgence, she warned.

On
returning home one afternoon, after spending the morning at Rushmore Farm,
supervising the arrangements for the musicians, Lizzie found waiting for her a
letter from her Aunt Emma Wilson in reply to one she had written on a matter
that had disturbed her greatly.

The
appearance in the neighbourhood of Mr. Andrew Jones had caused her much
disquiet, prompting her to write to her aunt, complaining of his brazen and
insensitive attempt to approach her in the village and asking whether, if he
did so again, she should speak her mind: