Women of Pemberley (19 page)

Richard Gardiner, meanwhile, having taken time to observe the work of Pasteur and attend many learned discussions on bacteriology, decided he had had enough of the conference and returned to London two days earlier than expected.

At a favourite bookshop he happened upon James Wilson, who invited him to lunch at his club. After the meal, during which they exchanged all the news that could be of interest to both men, James took Richard along to the new House of Commons, which was soon to be opened, and they later returned to his apartment in Grosvenor Street, where Richard was persuaded to stay the night. "I hope you will come down to Kent with me tomorrow, Richard. Emma will not forgive me if I arrive without you. It is quite some time since we have all met."

Richard declared he was happy to travel to Standish Park, so long as he could send a message to Cassandra, advising her of his imminent return. "Cassy does not know I am back in England," he explained.

James Wilson assured him that it would be a simple matter to send a message by the new electric telegraph.
On the following morning, which turned out to be fine and ideally suited to driving out to the country, they left for Standish Park.
Emma, who had not seen Richard and his family since Christmas, was delighted to welcome him and wanted to know everything about everybody. She was disappointed when James informed her that Richard would only be staying overnight, having arranged to return to Derbyshire the following day.
"Can you not stay a day or two?" she pleaded. "There is so much I wish to know. I cannot imagine we shall get through it all tonight. Tell me, how are all our cousins and the children? Are your two boys enrolled at Eton?"
"No, Emma, their mother will not have them so far away from her. They are to be enrolled at a school in Oxford, which has been highly recommended to us by Dr Grantley and Georgiana. Cassy likes having them no further than a short day's journey from home," he explained, adding that they both missed the children when they were from home.
After dinner, they had retired to the drawing room, where Emma had been persuaded to entertain them with a song or two, when a carriage was heard coming up the drive and drawing up at the front door.
James and Emma took little notice at first; Emma stopped playing to explain that it must be a caller for her husband. "Members of Parliament have many callers, some at the strangest of times," she said and Richard replied that it was not very different for physicians.
However, the sound of their visitor's voice was so familiar that James rose from his chair and went out into the hall, where they heard him exclaim, "Mr Darcy, please do come in."
Hearing his father-in-law's name, Richard wondered what had brought him to Standish Park at such a late hour. Could there be some problem at Pemberley? When he saw Mr Darcy's face as he walked into the room, Richard was certain of it. He looked tired and drawn, his expression grave.
It was quite plain that it was not just the effect of a long journey. Clearly, Darcy was under severe emotional strain. Richard knew him too well to doubt it; something was very wrong.
Mr Darcy was astonished to find Richard there. "Richard! How long have you been here?" he asked abruptly.
"I travelled down with James this evening, sir," Richard replied, adding that he had arrived in London from Paris only yesterday and had met up with James by chance. He had no doubt now that his father-in-law was preoccupied with something very serious. His first thought was for the Bingleys and Emma. Could it be some bad news about Mr Bingley?
The same thought must have struck Emma as she watched Darcy, still standing in the middle of the room as if he did not intend to stay long, his countenance grave and serious. Could it be he had bad news for her?
She thought, at once, of her father. Turning to Darcy, she asked, "Is it Papa? Oh, please tell me, Mr Darcy, has something happened to Papa?" she begged, obviously distressed.
Darcy shook his head, "No, no, there is nothing the matter with Bingley. Emma, pray do not upset yourself, your parents and sisters are all perfectly well. No, indeed my journey's purpose has already been achieved. I came here to ask Mr Wilson to help me find Richard, who I believed to be in France. Richard, we have been trying to contact you these last few days without success."
Richard was instantly concerned. "Why, sir, is there something amiss at home? Is it Cassy? Is she ill?" His voice betrayed his anxiety.
Again, Darcy was reassuring, denying that Cassy was ill, but he stopped in mid-sentence and, looking directly at Richard, spoke very quietly. "Richard, it's little Laura Ann; she has been unwell, with a fever. Henry Forrester has been attending her, but he has not been able to discover the cause of her illness. He thinks it could be quinsy or diphtheria, but he cannot be certain. We dispatched two messages to your hotel in Paris, and when there was no reply, I decided to come to London and ask Mr Wilson for his help."
Turning to James, he explained, "I was confident that, with your contacts at the Foreign Office, you would soon locate him. I had no indication that he was back in England. Cassy has been desperate to find him."
Meanwhile, Richard had leapt up and was scarcely able to wait until Darcy had finished speaking before declaring that they must leave at once.
James and Emma urged Mr Darcy to take some refreshment and let the coachmen partake of some food before they made their return journey. Richard was frantic with anxiety; so keen was he to be gone.
Finally, they were on their way. The Wilsons wished them Godspeed and Darcy expressed his profound thanks. "If it were not for your kindness in inviting Richard down here, I might still have supposed him to be in France. I thank you very much, James."
They left with no further delay, meaning to travel through the night, stopping only to change horses and take whatever refreshment they could on the road.
At first, the two men hardly spoke at all. Then, suddenly, Richard wanted to know everything. It was as if he could not bear to spend another second in ignorance. But just as abruptly, having exhausted all the questions that Darcy could possibly answer, he lapsed into silence again.
Both men realised the seriousness of the situation. The death of young children from croup or diphtheria was common, and they knew many families who had suffered such a blow. Richard could not believe it possible; he had left his family fit and well. Admittedly, little Laura Ann was rather more delicate than the others, but he could not comprehend how she could have been infected with quinsy or, worse, diphtheria.
"There have been no similar cases at the hospital in Derby, nor has Henry Forrester reported any from Littleford. I am at a loss to understand how she could have contracted it. Cassy is exceedingly careful to protect the children from infection, and so is Nurse Marsh." He shook his head, bewildered and distressed.
Mr Darcy tried to offer some comfort, "Pray, do not upset yourself, Richard. Henry Forrester has been very good indeed. Emily and Caroline, who have been with Cassy throughout, say he is at Laura's bedside all night. He will not leave her."
Stunned, Richard asked, "Has Laura Ann been removed to the hospital?"
Darcy nodded, "Yes, indeed she has. I believe she became ill and her condition worsened so rapidly that they had no alternative but to remove her to Littleford, where she could be watched over closely. Emily tells me Henry Forrester has insisted that she is never alone. He keeps a close watch on her condition and personally administers her medication. He seems a very dedicated young man."
Richard agreed that Henry was certainly an exemplary medical practitioner, but at this moment, his anxiety was for his daughter. How he wished that, on returning to London, he had gone directly home to Derbyshire. He was feeling wretched, and it took all Darcy's powers of persuasion to stop him sinking into guilt-ridden depression. "Cassy will be looking forward to our return, Richard. James Wilson promised to send a message by telegram so she will know you are on your way home. She will need you to help her through this crisis," he said, indicating to Richard, without preaching at him, that his family would need his strength, whatever fate held in store for them. "You know you can depend on my support, whatever happens."
It was an indication of the strength of their regard and affection for each other that Darcy was able to offer such counsel and Richard to accept it. Richard loved his father, but he had never felt as close to him as he did at that moment to Mr Darcy. Shared experience and the consequences of shared sorrow had added depth to their relationship. There was both understanding and trust.
They were silent for a long time afterwards, remembering, perhaps, another time when they had been together at a terrible moment in their lives: the moment of William's death. Richard had been much younger then--indeed, it was the night of his engagement to Cassandra--but being together on that dreadful occasion had wrought between them a lasting bond.
They broke journey, very briefly, for Richard was impatient to be on the road as soon as possible. An hour or so before dawn, as the sky in the east was reddening with the first hint of the rising sun, they drove into Matlock and, taking the road leading to the Pemberley Estate, approached Littleford.
By the time they reached the hospital, it was near dawn.
Richard leapt out of the carriage and ran into the dark, silent building. Striding down a corridor, he walked past a waiting room, where he found Emily, Isabella, and Elizabeth waiting anxiously for news. Not seeing Cassy with them, Richard feared the worst and rushed to his sister. "Emmy, how is she? Where is Cassy?" he demanded.
Emily implored him to be calm. She knew that Laura had been through a crisis during the night just past. Dr Forrester had come in a few minutes ago and taken Cassy into the child's room. Emily's husband, James, had also spent the last hour at the child's bedside.
Mr Darcy entered the room and went directly to Elizabeth, seeking information. He was exhausted but would not leave until there was some news of Laura Ann's condition.
Some minutes later, Henry Forrester came in and, placing a finger on his lips to caution them, called Richard to follow him. Emily went with them.
As they entered the room, Cassy looked up, saw her husband, and went to him at once. His arms around her, he asked, "How is she?"
Cassy did not speak, but led him quietly to the bed. The little girl looked very pale, and her forehead was damp with sweat, but her body, which had been hot with fever for days, was cool to the touch. Henry Forrester stood on the other side of the child's bed. "We have just been through the longest night of my life, Richard. I think little Laura is breathing easier now, and her fever is abating."
"Is she out of danger?" Richard asked anxiously.
"Not entirely, not yet. She is still very weak, but I think the worst is over." Richard and Cassandra embraced, and their tears fell freely.
Once the good news had been conveyed to the rest of the family, Elizabeth insisted that Cassy must rest. She had had neither food nor sleep. Richard agreed, and it was decided that they would go with Darcy and Elizabeth to Pemberley while Isabella and Emily took over the vigil at Laura's bedside.
Richard spoke to Henry Forrester, his words inadequate to thank him for his devoted care for their daughter. "I can never thank you enough, Henry. We shall be forever in your debt," he said, while Cassy, unable to speak, simply threw her arms around his neck and embraced him warmly.
Later, back at Pemberley, in what used to be Cassandra's own room, Richard apologised to his wife. "My darling, I am sorry. I should have been with you. If I had known, nothing would have kept me away."
Cassandra wept with relief but refused to let him take any blame. "How could you have known, Richard? But I did miss you, oh, how I longed for you to be home. I was so afraid, and I felt so alone, but you were not to blame, dearest. Thank God Papa was able to discover you, and thank God for the hospital at Littleford and for dear Henry Forrester. Believe me, Richard, he is an angel--our little Laura owes her life to him alone. He has been so good and kind through it all."
He let her finish, and held her while she spoke, before telling her how he had happened to be at the Wilsons' when Darcy arrived.
She listened but seemed to hear little. The shock of almost losing her child, of being alone without him, feeling bereft and frightened, in spite of the support she had been given by her parents and the rest of the family, had deadened her feelings. It was as if she had been drowned in emotion and cast ashore. She was worn out. It would be many days before she would feel normal again.
A week later, with Henry Forrester's permission, Laura Ann was taken home by her parents, whose gratitude more than matched their joy. Having come through the darkness and survived, she would always be a treasured child.

The following year, a month after the wedding of Sophie Bingley and Daniel Lambert, the new hospital in the Derwent valley, a few miles from Matlock, was opened with great ceremony and many splendid speeches from local government officials keen to associate themselves with a popular project.

Mr Lambert and his influential father were the chief guests, and Sir Tristram made it very clear that he had supported the council in its decision to build the hospital.

Daniel Lambert, who was now the Member of Parliament for the area, pleased everyone by declaring that he would seek support for the hospital from the government when Parliament resumed. But it was his bride Sophie who stole the show when she opened the building, expressing the hope that this was only the beginning and the council would now look at building a school for the children of the valley, concluding by handing over a generous donation from her father, Mr Bingley, towards special equipment for the children's ward of the hospital.

Richard and Cassandra were praised for their support--particularly Richard, who had given so much of his time to its successful completion that his family had seen very little of him and his wife had worried for his health.

Now it was done, and the people of the valley could enjoy the benefits. Afterwards, Richard and Cassandra journeyed to Buxton, where they had been invited to join the Lamberts, who had taken an elegant Georgian house very near the celebrated spa in the centre of the town. They enjoyed more than the health-giving waters--famous since Roman times--using the opportunity to rest their bodies and restore their spirits after a difficult Summer.
While there was less social life than in Bath, which they had both visited once and disliked intensely, Buxton had a delightful elegance with the additional attraction of its situation in the heart of the Peak District. It was a perfect example of the blend of nature and artifice that was particularly agreeable to them. The time spent touring these salubrious surroundings helped heal their hearts, especially now that Laura Ann was fully recovered, due in no small measure to the care of Henry Forrester, who continued to keep a close watch over her.
On returning from Buxton, they went directly to the Gardiners' to collect their children and found Fitzwilliam and Caroline there, enjoying the mild Autumn weather with afternoon tea on the lawn. They were there to invite the rest of the family to a party.
Much teasing ensued when it was discovered, through some discreet questioning, that the celebration was in honour of Fitzwilliam's birthday, but Caroline hinted that there was another reason, but it was, for the moment, a secret. "I can assure you, all will be revealed very soon," she promised, but Cassy was not satisfied until she had discovered that they would also be celebrating the engagement of their daughter, Isabella, to Doctor Henry Forrester. A large party of relations and friends were expected, some from as far away as London.
Unlike Pemberley, whose grand proportions accommodated such occasions comfortably, the modest size and style of the Fitzwilliams' house necessitated the hire of a big marquee to be erected on the lawn.
The Wilsons and the Bingleys were expected to stay at Pemberley for a few days, and Elizabeth particularly looked forward to having Jane to herself again. Jonathan and Amelia-Jane were travelling from Rosings, where Jonathan was now the manager of Lady Catherine de Bourgh's estate. Cassy had heard her mother and her Aunt Jane describe how this amazing circumstance had come about and related the story to Richard as they dressed for the party.
"Mama says my father recommended Jonathan to Lady Catherine," she said as she pinned up her hair.
"Mr Darcy?" Richard was sceptical. "Why would he do such a thing?"
"As Mama tells it, Amelia-Jane has been quite a favourite at Rosings and since little Cathy was born and baptised at Hunsford, Lady Catherine has taken a great interest in their welfare. No doubt Amelia had hopes of some preferment for her husband or herself, but unbeknownst to them, Lady Catherine, who is almost eighty, had spoken to Papa about a manager for Rosings--not just the sort of person who will ensure that the bailiffs and stewards do their jobs, but someone with sufficient understanding and taste to supervise the place after her Ladyship and her daughter move to Bath. It is not generally known, but I understand that on the death of Lady Catherine, Rosings Park will become part of the national estate. There will need to be a good manager to run the place."
Richard was genuinely surprised. "And you say your father recommended Jonathan for this position?"
"Indeed, I believe he has been very impressed with Jonathan's management of Longbourn, which is now run a good deal better than when grandfather was alive," she replied, explaining that Darcy had advised his aunt that Jonathan Bingley was just the right man for the job, especially since he had decided not to contest the next election and would no longer be spending a great deal of time at Westminster.
"No doubt Amelia-Jane is exceedingly pleased," said Richard. "Well, I can only wish them well. I am sure the fact that Lady Catherine will be in Bath rather than in residence at Rosings will make Jonathan's position much more congenial, especially if they are to live on the property."
Cassy agreed. "They will have the dower house; Aunt Jane told Mama. Amelia-Jane wants her to advise on what needs to be done to get the place ready for them. They will, however, keep Jonathan's town house, where they will mostly live when they are in London."
And there the conversation ended, since it was time to leave, and Cassy went to kiss her children goodnight.
When they reached the Fitzwilliams' place, the sight of a splendid equipage taking up a great deal of room in the street reminded them that Jonathan and Amelia-Jane had acquired a remarkable patron indeed. Lady Catherine's customary generosity towards those she approved of and who, in their turn, were adequately deferential towards her, was once again apparent. Mr and Mrs Jonathan Bingley and their older children had arrived in one of her liveried carriages, which now stood to one side, leaving barely enough room for the lesser vehicles of other guests to pass.
If the range and level of conversation was an indication of the success of a party, then this party was a certain success. Every conceivable topic, from the design of the new houses of Parliament to the cunning strategy of Louis Napoleon, who, by a coup d'etat, had made himself emperor of France, was discussed with vigour. The presence of several of Fitzwilliam's Reformist friends from his days at Westminster and younger colleagues of Jonathan Bingley and James Wilson meant there was inevitably a great deal of politics in the air.
Fitzwilliam, a great admirer of Palmerston, railed against the inaction of the present Prime Minister, Lord Aberdeen, and urged his friends who were still in Parliament to move to install Palmerston in his place. "He alone will restore Britain's influence in Europe," he declared, resolutely condemning the Peelites, for whom he had no time at all.
Although 1851 had been a year of peace in Britain, culminating in the success of the Great Exhibition, the years that followed were a good deal less so, especially in Europe, where there were several points of tension, any or all of which were likely to explode into conflict at any time.
Efforts to bring about agreements through negotiation were not proving successful, and ineffective diplomacy had become the butt of jokes. "Look at the Treaty of London," scoffed one of the guests. "Half of Europe will not accept it, and the rest could not care less."
Amid much laughter, Fitzwilliam, supported by Jonathan, was in full flight on the subject of ineffectual governments when Richard and Cassandra arrived.
James and Emma Wilson, who had only recently returned from France, were both concerned that there was, in Europe, much talk of war between France and Russia. "There is much more belligerent rhetoric now than I have heard in many a year," said James, and when Richard asked if there was a reason for this heightened temperature, he replied, "I am sorry to have to say this, but the ineptitude of our leaders is gradually pushing us into a situation where we will be at war before we even know why we are there."
The whiff of war in the air set the conversation alight, and it was only doused when the musicians struck up a familiar quadrille and the newly engaged couple led the company into the first dance.
Cassandra and Richard had not been surprised by the news of their engagement, having noticed the increasing warmth of the friendship that had grown up between them since Isabella had begun to assist at the hospital in Littleford. Emily, too, having been her niece's confidante for the last few months, had seen their relationship deepen during the fearful week when little Laura Ann's life had hung in the balance.
Unlike many of her cousins and friends, Isabella had not fallen in love in the first flush of youth. Quiet and unassuming to a fault, her gentle beauty was often overlooked among her more striking companions. Clearly, one man, at least, had known better. His compassion and gentlemanly charm had captured her heart, and her choice was universally applauded. Like Richard Gardiner, Henry Forrester was gaining a reputation for both professional skill and dedication.
Elizabeth found herself seated next to her niece Emma Wilson at dinner. The gloomy prognostications about war in Europe had been overwhelmed by the happy prospect of a wedding in the family. Indeed, Elizabeth told how upon hearing the good news, she and Mr Darcy had offered to host the wedding at Pemberley. "Isabella will be married at the church, of course," said Elizabeth, explaining that it would therefore be convenient, as well as appropriate, that the wedding breakfast be at Pemberley House.
Emma was delighted for Isabella. "I have always thought that she had intended to remain unwed, else I could not understand how such a lovely, gentle young woman would not have been married earlier," she remarked, adding that too many young men today were not looking beyond the powder and paint.
"It is gratifying to discover that goodness can yet be appreciated, though if I had been a man, I cannot believe I would not have noticed her sweetness of disposition and fine features even before I learnt to appreciate her goodness," said Elizabeth.
Emma agreed. Isabella had been a favourite cousin; they shared an evenness of temper that had made for an easy friendship as girls, but since Emma's first, unhappy marriage, and her more or less permanent residence in Kent, the cousins had seen much less of each other. Emma's own second marriage and Isabella's involvement with the management of the Littleford hospital had left both young women little time for anything above the usual affectionate greetings at birthdays.
She was, therefore, surprised to be singled out by her cousin, who brought Henry Forrester over to be introduced to "my beautiful cousin, Emma, and her husband, the distinguished Mr James Wilson, MP."
Not having met Mr Forrester before, James Wilson was happy to find him an intelligent young man with a remarkable dedication to his work. Quite clearly, he was also devoted to young Isabella.
While Caroline and Fitzwilliam were busy accepting the congratulations of their friends at the success of the evening and their daughter's engagement, a storm had been brewing amongst the hills and crags to the north. Concerned for the comfort of their guests, the Fitzwilliams urged them to move indoors.
Richard and Cassy, familiar with the house, decided to watch the storm's progress from the vantage point of the music room, which ran the width of the house and afforded from its windows a splendid prospect across the river to the woods and the peaks beyond, rising to the summit of High Tor.
Upstairs, they found the younger children gathered in the schoolroom, clearly frightened by the sound and fury of the weather. Richard urged them to come into the music room and enjoy the show, trying to counter their fears by describing the gathering storm as "Nature's fireworks." The braver ones ventured in and were treated to a spectacular display.
Happily, the worst of the storm seemed to miss that part of the dales in which their house stood, and though the great bolts of lightning in the distance seemed fearsome when accompanied by rolling thunder, it was a relief to know that they were dancing mostly over the rugged hills and moorlands to the north.
The music room was Caroline's favourite room. Since the day she had first seen the house, well before they were engaged, she had admired the room and received from Fitzwilliam a promise, albeit unsolicited, that it would be a music room as she had suggested. True to his word, after they were engaged, he had it fitted up to suit her taste. Now, it was her personal retreat. She found Cassy and Richard and a few of the children enjoying the superb view the room afforded.
"Cassy, there you are. Jonathan and Amelia-Jane are ready to leave. They are to stay with the Tates tonight and wish to leave before the storm reaches the dales," she said as she accompanied them downstairs. "I thought I would send a little note about Isabella's engagement for next week's
Review
."
When they reached the hall, Amelia and Jonathan were ready to depart, their fine carriage waiting patiently for them to conclude their farewells.
Soon after they had left, the party began to break up. Most of Jonathan's friends had left, and a few stragglers were making their way out. Richard and Cassy followed not long afterwards.
As the carriage turned onto the main road leading to Matlock, light rain was falling and in the distance could be heard the sound of horses. Richard noticed that ahead, the carriage from Pemberley had been pulled over and Darcy's driver had decided to alight and investigate. Richard did likewise.
Within minutes, two men on horseback loomed up in the rain and fog ahead, visible in the light of the carriage lamps. They were from Pemberley; windblown and dishevelled, they looked as if they had ridden hard. Talking to Darcy's driver they explained that the storm that had missed the dales had hit the rest of the area very hard: several trees had been blown down and lay across the road. They had ridden over to warn their master not to risk making the journey to Pemberley that night. There was no alternative but to turn back.
The Fitzwilliams welcomed their returning guests and made arrangements to accommodate them for the night.
Rain fell throughout the night, making the prospect of the road being cleared unlikely.
Waking just before daybreak, Elizabeth found Darcy already dressed and looking out of the bedroom window. Joining him, she noted that the storm had cleared and the sky was reddening with the first rays of the sun.
"Red in the morning..." she whispered.
"Yes, there could be more bad weather about, and it looks like we might be here all day if the road has not been cleared of fallen trees," said her husband. "I am glad the rain has cleared. I shall borrow a pair of boots and get Fitzwilliam to show me around the home farm after breakfast. He has made a number of improvements in the last few years."
As they watched, the sun rose, chasing the shadows from the meadows and woods below. The workmen were taking down the marquee, and in the lower meadow they could see Fitzwilliam, who had clearly risen before dawn.
Elizabeth smiled. "He has become quite the gentleman farmer since leaving Parliament," she said.
"He certainly has, and I do believe Caroline and he have done very well here. You cannot help but feel the sense of satisfaction they enjoy in their life," said Darcy and even as he spoke, the three youngest Fitzwilliams ran out into the yard; Rachel, James, and Amy were all laughing as they raced out to the stables for their morning ride. Darcy and Elizabeth smiled as they watched the young, healthy children.