My Cousin Caroline: The acclaimed Pride and Prejudice sequel series The Pemberley Chronicles Book 6

by Rebecca Ann Collins

Sadly, Caroline thought, her cousin Elizabeth seemed unable to forgive young Josie Tate for marrying her son.

  Throughout this period, for Caroline one continuing source of anxiety remained: the health of her father, Mr Gardiner.

  In spite of the best efforts of her brother Richard and several of his colleagues in the medical fraternity, there appeared to be little they could do to retard the progress of the disease, to which Mr Gardiner finally succumbed in the Autumn of 1864.

  END OF PART FOUR

  CAROLINE HAD NOT SLEPT ALL night, and Colonel Fitzwilliam feared she would not be fit to face the ordeal of the morning. Despite this, she had risen early from their bed and addressed herself to the task of preparing to attend the melancholy ritual of the reading of her father's will.

  The week just gone had been difficult enough, with Mrs Gardiner so bereft that her daughters had to set aside their own sorrow to console and support their mother through the days and nights following their father's death. Then, there had been the unhappy matter of Julian Darcy, who was supposed to read the lesson at the funeral service, arriving too late at the church. Mr Darcy, himself deeply grieved by the loss of a dear friend and mentor, had stepped into the breach.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had always had the highest opinion of his cousin, was not surprised; it was exactly the sort of thing one expected of Darcy. More astonishing was the fact that it was Caroline who had asked him, at the very last minute, in the same way that she had organised her family, so everything that had to be done was carried out in a proper manner. Yet, loving her as he did, Fitzwilliam knew the depth of her grief and the strength she had had to summon up to carry her through the day. Only at the very end of that sombre day, when they had returned home and retired to their room, had Caroline, weary and grieving, wept as he had held her, trying to comfort her. There was little to be said, for speech at such times is often futile; there was no need for words.

  Caroline had been her father's favourite, supporting his views, adopting his ideas, and following his characteristically commonsensical advice; she had been closer to him than any of her siblings. Unabashed, she, more than any other member of the family, had declared openly to many of their acquaintances that, without her father's business acumen and great good sense, they would never have been more than the family of a small trader, living within sight of his warehouses in Cheapside.

  “Our family owes everything we are and have to Papa's good nature, skill, and diligence,” she would say with characteristic candour, and she was right.

  When Fitzwilliam went downstairs to breakfast, Caroline was already dressed and ready to face the day. Soberly and appropriately clad in soft black silk with a hat that cast a benign shadow over her face, disguising the unmistakable signs of weariness and grief, she was standing at the open window, looking out at the hills, their rough peaks still softened by mist. He went to her and, as he kissed her cheek, saw the tears in her eyes, but she smiled and held on to his hand, knowing she would have need of his support through the day.

  What neither of them knew was the extent to which the business of this day would inevitably and forever change their lives.

  There was nothing unusual about the day on which members of the family and partners in the Commercial Trading Company, summoned by Mr Gardiner's attorney, Mr Jennings, were gathered at Oakleigh. On a mild morning, the late Autumn sun poured in at the windows of the parlour, where refreshments had been served, while they waited to be joined by the Darcys and Mr Bingley. When it was ascertained that everyone who had been asked was in fact present, they repaired to the library.

  Elizabeth looked around the room and noticed that the only person not in the formal colours of mourning was Robert Gardiner's wife, Rose, who for some inexplicable reason had a daffodil yellow scarf swathed around her throat. It was only a wisp of silk, but in that quiet room, it caught the eye like a banner in the breeze.

  “I cannot imagine why she chose to wear that colour,” said Elizabeth, recounting the day's events to her sister Jane. “I have no doubt at all that it must have upset my dear aunt to see it.”

  Cassy had noticed it too, but except to catch her mother's eye and exchange a silent communication, she had said nothing.

  Mr Jennings, meanwhile, had readied himself, arranged his papers, and, clearing his throat, stood up to do his solemn duty.

  No one expected any surprises on this occasion. Mr Gardiner was, above all, a stable, steady businessman, without the slightest tendency towards eccentricity or aberration. His industry and sound common sense had steered his company and his family from modest beginnings to great success, giving his wife and children the security and respectability he had sought for them.

  The first bequests to his grandchildren and to faithful staff and servants were all anticipated. He was a generous man, and those who had served him well were appropriately rewarded. His children, all four of them, and their spouses were likewise granted substantial endowments of cash and shares. The property at Oakleigh was, as expected, bequeathed in its entirety to his wife, to pass upon her demise to whomsoever she chose, but with a codicil that the inheritor may not subdivide or sell it without the consent of all four of her children.

  Caroline, who had been seated with her husband in a place behind her mother, breathed a sigh of relief. She had of late been concerned that Rose had been taking over most of Mrs Gardiner's duties, almost as if she were the mistress of the house. Caroline, though she had never mentioned it to either of her parents, had wondered if her father had indicated to Robert that he may inherit the property on condition he let his mother continue to live there.

  “I have some apprehension on this score,” she had written earlier to her friend and confidante Emma Wilson, “as I do not believe that my sister-in-law Rose will be satisfied with such an arrangement. She is a person with artistic talents and tastes, which will inevitably result in her desiring to change and redecorate the old place; a scheme, I am sure you will agree, unlikely to find approval with Mama.”

  As Mr Jennings read out the stipulation attached to the bequest, Caroline noticed her mother's shoulders relax as if a burden had rolled from them; clearly Mrs Gardiner had not been altogether certain of her husband's intentions, either. Glancing sideways at Rose, it was plain to Caroline that she was disappointed. Caroline saw her lean over to Robert, and though she did not catch her whispered words, it was obvious she had had other expectations. There was dismay written upon her face.

  “She must surely have believed Papa would leave Oakleigh to them,” thought Caroline as Mr Jennings coughed and cleared his throat again and picked up a final document.

  Caroline's hand crept into her husband's, and as his fingers closed around hers, she heard the attorney's next pronouncement, spoken in that dry, ordinary voice that lawyers seem to reserve for their most dramatic revelations.

  Mr Gardiner, he explained, had recently made an amendment to his will handing control of all of his remaining shares and the management of his company to his eldest child, Mrs Caroline Fitzwilliam, adding once again a single condition that prevented her from selling any portion of the enterprise without the consent of her mother, her brother Richard Gardiner, and at least two of the three partners in the business.

  Caroline gasped audibly, and Elizabeth, glancing at her, saw her turn very pale as she looked up at Fitzwilliam, whose considerable astonishment matched her own. She saw too the shocked faces of Robert and his wife Rose, whose flushed countenance betrayed her severe discomposure.

  A few minutes later, she left the room, claiming she needed some fresh air but leaving no one present in any doubt of her feelings. Her husband Robert did not flinch nor show outwardly his disappointment, but it was quite clear that both he and Rose had, like many others in the family, taken it for granted that Mr Gardiner would leave his youngest son in charge of the business.

  No one had expected it would be Caroline.

  Well, not quite no one, for it was revealed later, when the documents were place
d upon the table for all to see, that Mr Darcy had known all along, since his signature had been placed at the bottom of the paragraph as a witness to the will.

  Looking at Mrs Gardiner seated with her daughter Emily, Elizabeth could tell from her aunt's expression that she had been as ignorant of these details of her husband's will as the rest of them.

  Significantly, only Mr Darcy had seemed unsurprised, and indeed, when later they were all taking a glass of sherry together, he had come over to congratulate Caroline and tell her he was sure she would do very well in her new role. Cassy was surprised and so was Elizabeth. Mr Darcy had kept his counsel very well indeed.

  Back at Pemberley that evening, Cassy felt she had to ask her father about Mr Gardiner's decision. “Do you suppose, Papa, that Mr Gardiner thought Caroline was better able to manage the business than Robert?” to which he replied, “I am quite sure he did, Cassy, and with good reason,” pointing out quite firmly that Robert did not appear to have his heart in the business.

  “He has made no effort to equip himself for his role, spending more time in London and Paris than in Matlock or Manchester,” he said.

  To Cassandra's further enquiries, Mr Darcy would provide even more precise answers, revealing for the first time to his family details of the discrepancies in the accounts of both offices, which Caroline had uncovered.

  “Although Robert was advised of the problem by his father, he claimed to have found nothing wrong with the books. It was Caroline's meticulous work that led to an investigation, prosecution, and the recovery of at least some of the monies. It was her perspicacity, with the help of Mr Kennedy, that resulted in the conviction of Caddick, who had completely gulled both Robert and his wife. They had apparently no inkling of what he was doing. His illegal activities had placed Mr Gardiner's business and his reputation in jeopardy.

  “To say Mr Gardiner was disappointed is an understatement; he had great hopes for Robert and they had come to naught. On the other hand, he was most favourably impressed with Caroline's tenacious pursuit of the matter. I am prepared to believe that his mind was made up on the subject of his will soon afterwards.”

  It was an explanation that, by its content and the tone in which it was given, convinced both Elizabeth and Cassandra that Mr Darcy had not only understood Mr Gardiner's purpose in amending his will, he had probably supported it as being both prudent and sensible.

  Before leaving Oakleigh that afternoon, Mr Jennings had approached Caroline and placed in her hands a sheaf of documents, a locked cash box, and a personal letter in her father's hand.

  Taking it upstairs into a private room, Caroline read the letter, which detailed among other things his continuing anxiety about the new manager at the Manchester office—a Mr Stokes, who had once been appointed by the disgraced Caddick as his assistant but had escaped dismissal by sheer luck and his assiduous cultivation of Robert's goodwill. A quiet, unobtrusive man, he had done Robert's bidding well enough to be placed in a position of some responsibility by him.

  Mr Gardiner urged caution before he was entrusted with too much authority, and Caroline took careful note of his opinion. Her father's judgment had rarely been proved wrong.

  In addition to several affectionate expressions of farewell, the letter contained also words of advice urging her to trust her own judgment, but if ever she needed counsel, “ask the advice of your husband, your brother Richard, or Mr Darcy, in whom you can place your trust implicitly.”

  Remember my dear child, that your mother's continuing comfort and peace of mind and the income that will flow to your brothers, sister, and my valued partners are all now in your care. I know you will not let them down.

  Despite the pride she felt at being so chosen, Caroline was daunted by the responsibility her father had placed in her hands. His words had underlined the extent of his trust in her, but they had also laid out quite clearly the magnitude of her task.

  Remember, dear Caroline, it is with you I leave the most valuable part of my life's work… Apart from the property at Oakleigh, which I purchased for your dear mother, the Commercial Trading Company is my entire fortune. Bound up in it are the prosperity and happiness of several people, including my beloved family and those faithful employees who have worked for us for many years. Now, it is in your hands…

  Caroline had put the letter away and returned to the parlour. On the stairs, she had met Rose and Robert. While her brother stopped and kissed her cheek without saying anything significant, his wife seemed as yet unable to cope with her disappointment and hurried away to her room. Her sullen countenance betrayed her mood.

  It was not, thought Caroline, an auspicious beginning to their new relationship.

  Later, she had revealed the contents of her father's letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr Darcy as well as her brother Richard and his wife.

  “I know I shall have to call on you for help to carry out Papa's wishes,” she had said. “While I am quite familiar with the accounts of the company, I know much less about the business of commerce and trade. I feel quite inadequate to the task.”

  She was assured immediately of their support, especially by Mr Darcy.

  “Never forget, Caroline, your father loved you very much, but he was also a very good businessman, the best I have known; he is therefore unlikely to have placed this responsibility in your hands, unless he was certain you were capable of carrying it out successfully. May I say, here and now, that I share his confidence absolutely,” he had said, making quite certain that his expressions of confidence in her were heard by members of her family. As her father's partner, an investor in the company, Mr Darcy would hardly endorse someone he thought was incapable of managing it successfully.

  Sadly, Caroline thought, neither Robert nor Rose had been there to hear his words, though she could not help wondering if they would have believed any of it if they had.

  Returning home very late on what had been a day filled with so many conflicting emotions, she was both weary and elated. Fitzwilliam had reassured and supported her through the day, and the warmth of his loyalty and affection had sustained her. She was grateful and said as much.

  He sensed, however, a change in her attitude from the previous evening, for despite the inevitable melancholy and fatigue the day had generated, she seemed exhilarated by the prospect of the task entrusted to her.

  Caroline had done with grieving and appeared eager to begin work on what was without any doubt a difficult and demanding undertaking.

  As they prepared for bed, she asked, almost casually, “You believe I can do it, do you not, Fitzy?” and his swift response was meant to reassure her.

  “Dearest, of course I do. I am in no doubt that you would manage the enterprise well; far be it from me to criticise your brother, but clearly both Darcy and your father were in agreement that you would do a better job than Robert. In doing it, you shall have my total support. But then, I do not need to tell you that, Caroline, for you know it already. You can call upon me at any time. You have given me so much help and happiness for so many years, this will be an opportunity for me to be of some assistance to you.”

  “Did Papa not speak of it to you?” she asked, as she brushed and braided her hair.

  Fitzwilliam grew serious. “No, my dear, he did not, and I can well understand his reticence—he must have wished to save me any embarrassment. Were Robert and Rose to discover I had played any part in your father's decision, they may accuse me of manipulation or worse.”

  “They would not dare! If they did, they would have me and Mr Darcy to reckon with!” she declared, her eyes flashing with anger. “It beggars belief that Rose, who has hitherto shown little interest in my father's affairs, should be so concerned about the disposition of his property. As for Robert, he may be resentful, but he will not say or do anything that will hurt us; he has more sensibility than her, I think.”

  Reluctant to provoke her further, Fitzwilliam said nothing; yet even as he rejoiced that her mood had changed from grief to determination,
he hoped she would not be disappointed in her assessment of her brother.

  He did not share her confidence in Robert's judgment.

  An undistinguished though generally agreeable young man, Robert had always sought the approval of those he acknowledged to be his superiors. Overjoyed when he had been accepted by Rose Fitzwilliam, whose striking beauty and elegance had taken his breath away at their first meeting, he had since then walked adoringly in her shadow, his weakness of will and lack of ambition providing his wife with every opportunity to enhance her own personality, often at the expense of his. Both Darcy and Elizabeth were of the opinion that Rose, not Robert, decided their response to any situation, and it was unlikely to be different on this occasion.

  Though he knew all of this, not wishing to spoil his wife's mood and eager to encourage her new confidence, Fitzwilliam acquiesced for the moment, preferring to offer her comfort and affection rather than the distasteful truth. The warmth of his love had sustained her before in times of great sorrow and did so again.

  ELIZABETH WAS UPSTAIRS WHEN A carriage drew up at the entrance to Pemberley House, and Mr Darcy's cousin James Fitzwilliam and his wife, Rosamund, were shown into the salon. By the time she went downstairs, Mr Darcy had already been apprised of their arrival and had joined the visitors. A bright fire and ample refreshments kept them occupied awhile, but presently, they came to the point of their visit.