Elizabeth glanced across at the woman sitting quietly under the second umbrella. Miss Susannah Courtney, aunt to baby Vicky, had said very little since she arrived with the Courtney party on this visit to Pemberley.
In her late thirties, Susannah was a neat, brown-haired person with a gentle expression and soft voice. Although in no way subservient, she tended to keep herself in the background at family gatherings and Elizabeth had noticed with exasperation that Lydia treated her almost as if she were a servant instead of a close relation by marriage. She also noticed that Susannah ignored this, never disturbing the peace with arguments or disagreements.
“Susannah, this might be a good moment for me to speak to you. There has been no opportunity so far today. New infants do tend to take up everyone’s time and attention!”
“Certainly. Is there something I can do for you?”
Elizabeth hesitated and glanced across the rose garden to where Anne and Bennetta were talking to Cassandra. Of her other daughter, Jane, there was still no sign. She sighed: the girl was probably packing, eager to leave Derbyshire at the earliest moment, happy to distance herself from her family.
Elizabeth was at a loss how to heal the wounds that recent events had inflicted. Jane had always been the quiet one of the family, but now it was as if she was on one side of a tightly shut window and everyone else in the world was on the other.
She turned back to Susannah. “I have a great favour to ask of you. Jane intends to travel to Dorset tomorrow, to stay with her godfather, Colonel Fitzwilliam. She has already written to him to expect her. She is determined to go and I cannot persuade her otherwise. Sometimes, even though she is the quietest of my children, there is a very stubborn streak in her character. Mr Darcy says she inherits it from me, but I cannot see the resemblance myself.”
Susannah frowned. “I am aware that she is fond of Mr Darcy’s cousin. She often talks of him.”
“She always runs to Colonel Fitzwilliam as soon as she encounters any difficulty in her life. I have begged her to stay home and sort out the problem, but she refuses. To Dorset she will go. Apparently there has been—well, I cannot call it an argument because no one has raised their voices, but a very unhappy falling out between her and her sister.”
Susannah did not need to ask which sister. Anne, Jane’s twin, with her blonde beauty and supercilious expression, had never been one of her favourite acquaintances. Ever since the Darcys and Courtneys had been linked by marriage, Anne had always made Susannah acutely aware that as a woman long past marriageable age, she was just a spinster sister, an unpaid housekeeper for her younger brother and as such of noconsequence. While her circumstances were entirely true, it was, nevertheless impolite in the extreme to make such a distinction.
“How can I help?” She was fond of Jane and had always disliked the way she was constantly put in the background by her domineering twin, always deferring to her wishes and had often hoped that one day she would stand up for herself.
“Will you … is it possible for you to accompany Jane? I worry about her so much. I do not like the thought of her travelling on her own when she is in such a distressed state of mind. I fear I would not rest easily at night, although she has been to Dorset by herself before, of course. She was there just after Christmas. I would send Bennetta with her, but the last thing Jane needs now is the company of a beautiful, self-confident young girl.”
Susannah felt her lips twitching and fought to keep a straight face. “Well, you can certainly not call me beautiful or young, and although I think I have my fair share of confidence, I shall do my best to hide it in front of Jane!”
“Oh I am so sorry … I …”
“Please! I quite understand. My feelings are not hurt in the slightest. I would love to visit Dorset. It is not a county I have ever explored. I always travel north, of course, when I visit the family at Courtney Castle.”
“Could Richard spare you?”
Susannah smiled, a little wryly and glanced at Lydia’s sleeping figure. “I know I am of use to Cassandra, especially now she has Vicky to care for, but at the same time I am sure she and Richard will be delighted to have the house to themselves for a while. And there is still a week left of your sister’s visit. I must admit I shall be grateful not to be at home during that time. We do not have a comfortable relationship; I think it comes from when I innocently asked her how she wished to be addressed as a grandmother!”
Elizabeth tried not to smile but failed. “The thought of Lydia being a grandmother fills me both with amusement and also horror at how old I must be if my little sister has now reached that stage in life, although to be fair, she did have Cassandra when she was very young.”
“Yes, I fear she did not take the news of Victoria’s arrival well. But enough of this. The trip to Dorset—I shall be delighted to accompany Jane. We have always been good friends. Am I right in thinking this will not be a long visit to see Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“A few weeks, no more. Hopefully, when she returns, Jane will have forgotten her disappointments and this disagreement with her sister, and life can return to its even keel again.”
Susannah considered that it would be a good thing if Jane returned determined to be a person in her own right and not just “Anne’s twin” but thought it unwise to say those words to her hostess. She changed the subject. “The house seems very quiet with Henry and Fitzwilliam missing.”
Elizabeth’s usually brilliant dark eyes became shadowed. “It has been a very odd few months. The whole household was put in turmoil by my niece Miriam’s arrival from Africa and even more so by her sudden departure to marry the sea captain! We still await letters from her and Mary telling of the wedding which was supposed to have taken place in Cape Town. Then Fitz left to spend August with a school friend and as you know, Mr Darcy has taken Henry to Portsmouth where he is to join a ship of the line as a midshipman.”
“I was sad not to meet Miriam when she was here, but I could not leave Cassandra when she was so near her time.”
“Oh, I quite understand. I feel as if some exotic bird has flown through the halls of Pemberley, disturbing everything. I would never have believed that Mary, so quiet, so solemn, could havesuch a daughter. But then our children never turn out as we expect them to.
“And I have had to say goodbye to my dear Henry—to me he seems very young to start such a hard and dangerous life, but I am assured that it is the right thing to do, for him to have his own career in the navy, away from Pemberley which of course, Fitz will one day inherit. As you may imagine, Henry cannot wait to hear cannon fire and be involved in some dreadful battle. The fact that I lie awake at night, picturing all sorts of injuries and worse does not seem to be important to anyone!”
She bit back the words, “Especially Mr Darcy,” because that would have been disloyal to her husband, whom she loved dearly. But on this subject they did not agree and although they had not exactly quarrelled about Henry’s naval career, she felt that her opinion did not matter.
At least they agreed on how undesirable Digby Frobisher was as a husband for either of the twins. Mr Darcy—who would have been quite happy to have kept all his daughters at home, unmarried, for the rest of their lives—had been unusually vocal about Digby’s behaviour.
“So you will accompany Jane? I will arrange for the carriage to stop at Wyvern Lodge tomorrow morning, if that is convenient for you.”
“Certainly. I have only met Colonel Fitzwilliam the once, that was at Cassandra’s wedding, but he seemed an extremely agreeable gentleman. He did me the honour of asking me to dance and we sat next to each other at breakfast. I was very impressed by his knowledge of the world and his genteel manners. It will be a pleasure to make his acquaintance again.”
“I fear I cannot tell you more of the disagreement between Jane and Anne because that would mean breaking a confidence. But, of course, if Jane tells you herself, then please feel free togive her any advice you can. Mine, I am afraid, is of little use. Apparently ‘I do not understand about love!’”
