“In my youth, I used to envy the children of our tenants. They were frisky, strong, and content in their lives. They worked and played out of doors while my exposure to the world occurred almost entirely from the windows of our carriages. She took my arm again, and we walked towards the lake.
For a time, I occupied myself in the contemplation of her situation until I formed a suggestion. “If you will pardon the insolence of my question, who owns Rosings Park?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Four years ago, when I reached the age of five-and-twenty, the estate passed to me. Due to my infirm health at the time, I allowed my mother to carry on as mistress.”
“And do you approve of your mother’s management of the estate?”
“No. She is far too intrusive in her dealings with her tenants, just as she is with everyone in her employ.” She angled her head to meet my gaze. “There is no reason now why I should not take over the responsibility.”
“I think that is a splendid idea. Do you expect your mother will protest?”
“Yes, without a doubt. However, I could seek Darcy’s assistance.”
“Oh? What would you have him do?”
“Well, I believe he would support my decision. And if he and Elizabeth would come to Rosings for a se’nnight whilst I took on the new responsibility, I could benefit from his guidance and advice.”
Oh dear. My bearing tensed. “Your thought is a fine one, but Darcy is not the best person to ask. I suggest you seek help from Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Her chin sank. “Do you believe I would be asking too much of him? I am certain he is busy, but he used to stay at Rosings every Easter and review the estate books for my mother.”
“I did not intend to signify he would be unwilling to help, but he has other obligations that may preclude his visiting your estate in the near future.” Who else could help her? Oh yes, Lady Catherine’s brother, the earl. “Notwithstanding, Darcy could write a letter on your behalf to your uncle, Lord Matlock, giving his recommendation that you take over as mistress of Rosings and requesting his assistance to persuade your mother, if necessary. Between Lord Matlock and Colonel Fitzwilliam, you will have sufficient family support against any resistance from Lady Catherine. I intend to see Darcy after I part from you. Shall I appeal to him on your behalf and ask him to write to your uncle?”
“Yes, I thank you. I dare say my uncle trusts Darcy’s judgement in estate matters above anyone else’s.”
“You are most welcome.” An image of her companion came to me, inspiring a new concept. “If you will indulge me, I have another suggestion for you.”
“I should like to hear what you have to say.”
“Very well. I have noticed your close connexion to Mrs. Jenkinson, and I imagine she has been with you for a long time.”
“Yes, for over twelve years.”
“In light of your improved vitality, I think a younger lady would make a more suitable companion—a woman close in age to you who can provide instruction, should you wish it, in music, literature, and languages. I imagine you would be happier with someone who could also accompany you on your walks, ride horseback with you, and be more of a friend than a maternal figure.”
Miss de Bourgh’s respiration slowed. She halted, prompting me to stop as well. “You are correct. As fond as I am of Mrs. Jenkinson, she is no longer the best fit for me as a companion. I believe I shall ask my aunt Lady Matlock to recommend a candidate for me. Once we have returned to Rosings, I shall explain my intentions to Mrs. Jenkinson. I am certain she will be happy to retire. I shall provide her with an annuity so she may live in comfort near her son and grandchildren.”
I covered her hand with my own. “Mrs. Jenkinson is certain to appreciate your generosity.”
Darcy
On my way to the study, I glimpsed Richard within the billiards room and changed direction to approach him. He sat staring into space, holding an empty glass at a precarious angle.
My gait faltered when I noticed the decanter—it had been full that morning. He must have consumed an alarming portion of brandy. He had been in fine spirits at the picnic. Had he received bad news? “Richard, are you well?”
His head jerked at my voice, and he shifted unsteadily, propping his arm upon the chair. “Darcee! Yes, I just ’bout to find you.”
Gad, he is in his cups.
“I’d a…strange talk with your frien’ Mr. Graham.” A raucous belch came from him, and he covered his mouth belatedly. “Pard’n me.”
What had Graham said to upset Richard? I took the glass from him and removed the brandy decanter to the cabinet. “You need coffee.” I rang the servant’s bell and ordered refreshments and a pot of the beverage.
Richard waved his hand. “Darce, you must lis’n to me.”
“Let us wait until you have regained more of your faculties.” Two maids delivered the food and coffee. I poured him a mug. “Here, drink this.”
I sat opposite him and waited until he swigged the brew, then added more coffee to his mug. “Now then, tell me what is on your mind.”
