Emma took the opportunity to acquaint James with more tragic tales from Ireland, using Kitty’s letters as evidence, leaving him greatly disturbed. Before leaving, James promised again to send news of the government’s work in Ireland.
The Bingleys bade him farewell, at the same time inviting him to return and stay with them whenever he was in the area. “You must not wait for an invitation, Mr Wilson,” said Jane. “As you can see, we have plenty of room—and you are always welcome.”
He thanked them profusely and, before he went, bade farewell to Emma and the children, reminding them that they were expected at Standish Park in Spring.
The following day, Emily and Caroline called to take Emma on another round of what Sophie had called “begging visits.”
Aided by Rebecca Tate’s articles in The Review and The Courier, a good deal of attention had been drawn to the cause of the suffering poor of Ireland. Church congregations and workers’ clubs had started to collect food and clothing, while some businessmen were even willing to donate money. So successful were they that a further consignment of goods and donations of money were ready to go within the month.
Returning from visiting the Courtneys some days later, Emma was greeted by her sisters with the news that an express had come for her from London. It was from James Wilson.
He thanked her and her parents for their generous hospitality and sent regards from his mother. But chiefly, the letter contained information on the topic that had troubled her so much.
He wrote:
I have made several discreet enquiries of some of the men who are most likely to know the truth of these matters, and I am told that because of the peculiar nature of the Irish economy, having little or no industry to provide employment and thereby relying almost solely on farm labour, many people at Westminster had barely realised the extent of the problem until it became desperate.
However, in the course of last year, churches and private charities, having provided as much help as they could muster, had begun to clamour for action from the government, especially to alleviate the dreadful consequences of the rapacious practices of certain landlords—many of them English, I am ashamed to admit. This year, I am reliably informed, the government has begun to provide some direct help, opening food distribution centres and soup kitchens.
Inadequate though this may be, it is at least a start, and I promise I shall personally lobby those responsible to ensure that more is done.
Dear Emma, your concern does you great credit, and the work done by all those who have been engaged in providing help to these unhappy people will surely receive God’s blessing as well as their gratitude.
Alas, we may never know the whole truth—how many unfortunate souls perished and how many more are even now fleeing their homeland and emigrating to America.
I do apologise that this letter is almost wholly taken up with depressing news, but there is at least one thing which I know will bring a smile to your face.
My mother was so deeply affected by what I have told her of the terrible circumstances in Ireland and your concern to help the unfortunate victims that she has asked me to send you a substantial donation of money to be forwarded to the charity whose work your group supports.
I shall arrange for it to be sent to you as soon as possible.
For the moment, I shall take my leave of you, conveying our kind regards and every good wish to your self, your parents, and sisters—and to Victoria and Stephanie, of course.
God bless you, Emma,
Yours sincerely,
James Wilson.
The letter’s contents, especially its last paragraph, filled Emma with delight. She could not wait to tell Emily of the donation from Mrs Wilson. It was such a wonderful surprise.
An opportunity arose when her mother suggested a visit to the Gardiners, and it was eagerly taken.
A note was dispatched to Emily, and the following day, when they arrived at the Gardiners’ house at Lambton, Emily was already there.
The two women had struck up a close friendship, even though Emily was almost thirty-nine, while Emma was barely thirty years old. They had both suffered harrowing experiences and emerged with their spirits unscathed and their resilience enhanced.
Emily, now a mature woman with very strong convictions, was the ideal person to provide Emma, whose tragic marriage had only recently become known to her, with inspiration. As she had done many years ago for her cousin Elizabeth, whose life had been devastated by the death of her son, Emily gave Emma both comfort and counsel. They shared also a love of music and seemed to imbue their children with the same enthusiasm.
Emily’s three children were all talented. Elizabeth, her eldest, was a bright and industrious scholar, while young William was already receiving accolades from his teacher for his performance on the pianoforte. As for little Jessica, it seemed she could hardly wait to be tall enough to play upon the same instrument.
The same teachers were now engaged to teach Victoria and Stephanie, and the two mothers had a great deal to discuss. Bingley and Jane were delighted to see Emma engaged in a variety of pursuits and seemingly so contented. Darcy and Elizabeth, who were dining with them, were likewise amazed at the change in her since her return to Ashford Park.
“I cannot believe that this is the same rather timid, young Emma we used to meet in London, or on the rare occasion when she could get away to visit us,” said Elizabeth.
Jane shook her head, still unable to comprehend the terrible circumstances of her daughter’s ill-fated marriage. “I can only thank God that things have turned out this way. A year or two more and Emma might well have been driven to desperation or become very ill,” she said.
“I cannot tell you how grateful we are to Mr James Wilson and his mother for having the foresight and good sense to remove her and the children from London and send them to us,” said Bingley.
Darcy agreed that it was certainly an act of great good sense on their part, but even more was it evidence of the good judgement and character of Mr Wilson. “That he should have made such a clear-sighted decision, while setting aside any feelings he may have had for his brother, distinguishes him as a man of high principles,” said Darcy, adding, “Everything I have heard and seen of him and his conduct towards Emma and her children only serves to confirm my view.”
Joining them at dinner, having put her daughters to bed, Emma told them of the donation from James and his mother for the famine victims and how it had come about. The pleasure she took in detailing the news she had received from James and her obvious appreciation of his efforts did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth.
Earlier reports of the gift of a beautiful piece of jewellery had also excited her interest, especially when Emma gladly produced the item for their admiration. There was no doubting her response; she was clearly delighted to be treated with so much affection after years of indifference or worse.
It was inevitable that the matter would come up for discussion as Elizabeth and Darcy returned to Pemberley.
Darcy had a simple and logical explanation, “Plainly, both Mrs Wilson and James wish to make amends for the suffering Emma endured at the hands of her husband, and her own generous nature lets her accept their kindness without rancour.”
Elizabeth wondered if perhaps there was more than mere gestures of kindness and concern involved.
“Could it not be that James Wilson is a little bit in love with our beautiful Emma? From all I have heard and observed, he appears to display some of the signs of a man in love or very close to it. Jane will not say more than that he shows a marked partiality for Emma’s company, but whenever he visits, she is the centre of his attention, even though he professes an interest in his nieces,” she declared, prompting her husband to smile and warn her yet again against matchmaking.
Elizabeth protested that she was not matchmaking at all, merely observing a couple of persons who m
ight be falling in love. “Surely you must agree that, were it to happen, it would be no bad thing. Or do you see any strong objections to such a union?” she asked, challenging him to produce a contrary view.
Darcy knew her far too well to be drawn into the game. “My dear Lizzie, I doubt if there is anything that I might say which will change your mind on this subject—but if there were some impediment to their mutual happiness, I am quite certain Emma and James will discover it for themselves. If there is not, and they are continually in each other’s company, they will probably marry. They certainly appear well suited,” he conceded.
“There you are,” she said, triumphantly, “so you do not deny that my original notion was a reasonable one.”
Darcy, realising that he had almost lost the round, decided that surrender was inevitable. “Of course not, I cannot possibly accuse you of being unreasonable in this, as in most other matters. No doubt we shall discover before very long whether you are right about James and Emma. For my part, I can see no objection, providing it is what they both desire. It is their happiness that matters.”
In the first week of May, Emma and her daughters, accompanied by her maid Sally and their nurse, Mrs Elliot, left Ashford Park for London, whence they were to proceed to Standish Park.
As Jane told it to her sister Elizabeth and her Aunt Gardiner, a letter had arrived for Emma from the Wilsons’ lawyers, acquainting her with the terms of her husband’s will, under which she inherited his share of the Wilsons’ property in Kent. There had also been a letter from her mother-in-law inviting her most cordially to make Standish Park her permanent home.
“I have to say, however, that it was the letter from James that seemed to make her mind up,” said Jane, smiling as she explained. “He added his voice to Mrs Wilson’s invitation and detailed the arrangements for their journey. He will be meeting them in London and accompanying them to Kent. Well, within an hour of receiving it, Emma had announced that they would be leaving for London on the morrow and an express was dispatched to advise Mr Wilson.”
Mrs Gardiner expressed surprise, but Elizabeth seemed to expect it. “After all, as you can see, Spring has not reached us yet, it’s still rather cold and it has not stopped raining across the Midlands. In Kent, I am informed, the daffodils are out in the woods around Rosings; no doubt they will be out at Standish Park, and who can blame Emma for wanting a change of scene? Especially when such a warm welcome awaits her.”
Mrs Gardiner remarked that she had noticed Jane’s smile and the twinkle in Lizzie’s eye. “Are you both teasing me?” she asked. “I have been busy recently, but from the tenor of your remarks, I feel I have missed something.”
Both Jane and Elizabeth laughed and assured their aunt that they would tell her everything in the course of the afternoon, a remark which she took to mean that they had no wish to discuss the matter while the servants were in the room.
The arrival of an express from London interrupted their conversation.
Opening it hurriedly, Jane revealed that it was from Emma. “It seems she is already at Standish Park,” she said, and sat down to read the letter to them. Emma wrote:
Dearest Mama,
I know you would want to be assured that we have concluded our journey successfully and safely.
As you know, we were to go first to London. The coach made good time even after breaking journey at Cambridge and Hertford. Mr Wilson met us and conveyed us to the house in Mayfair, where we dined and stayed the night. Since the children were very tired, we thought it best to wait until the morrow, when we left for Kent soon after breakfast.
At Rochester, where we broke journey, the daffodils were out in the meadows, and along the way we could see the Spring blossoms coming out everywhere. It was truly pretty, but nowhere was it prettier than in the great cherry and apple orchards of Standish Park, which we could see blooming profusely as we approached.
Mrs Wilson greeted us very warmly. She declares she has been pining for her granddaughters, and both Victoria and Stephanie seem happy to be back. Victoria loves the house and remembers every nook and cranny of the place.
Speaking of the house, dear Mama, there has been a great deal of work done on the house since I was last here. James has had an architect refurbish the suites in the east wing and, Mama, they are quite beautiful.
I could not believe my eyes; they all look so new and different, with pretty pastel colours and tasteful furnishings. Everything we need for our comfort is here. Nothing has been forgotten.
The school room is a picture—light and airy, not at all forbidding like the old one used to be. Even Mrs Elliot has a bright, new room, just next door to the girls. The children were overjoyed. They could not make up their minds which room they preferred.
I had no such difficulty. I had a choice, but took only a moment to decide that the suite which afforded a view of the downs and woodlands reaching as far as the eye could see was to be mine.
Mrs Wilson had feared we would not like the new rooms—we used to have apartments on the other side of the house when we lived here—but James was confident we would enjoy the change.
I have assured them both that we, all of us, love our new rooms and expect to be very happy here.
Dear Mama, I have written this before going down to dinner, which is always at eight. James has promised it shall be sent express, so I expect it will reach you tomorrow.
Do give my love to Papa, Louisa, and Sophie, and my dear uncles and aunts.
Your loving daughter,
Emma.
By the time Jane had finished reading Emma’s letter, both Elizabeth and Mrs Gardiner had exchanged so many glances, it was plain they had drawn some new conclusions.
It was quite clear that the Wilsons intended to make Emma feel as welcome and as much at home as possible at Standish Park. They had spared neither effort nor expense.
What was equally clear was that Emma needed very little persuasion indeed. When Darcy called to take her home, Elizabeth was full of the news in Emma’s letter and talked about it all the way back to Pemberley.
Darcy waited until they were in their apartments before responding. He knew she expected him to comment and did not disappoint her.
“I know you are excited about Emma’s letter, my dear, and I concede that it looks very much like your vision of Emma’s future is likely to come true. But I have even more important news for you.”
Looking at his face, which was, by now, creasing into a broad smile, Elizabeth was suddenly aware that she was being teased by the husband she had introduced to the art.
“What news?” she demanded, feigning outrage at the ploy he had used.
“If you will let me tell you, I can guarantee that you will be both surprised and pleased,” he said continuing to tantalise her, knowing she was dying to hear it all at once.
Elizabeth pleaded with him not to be so vexing, and he finally took pity upon her. “Well, as you know I’ve been with Bingley all day. He asked to see me about a family matter.”
Elizabeth could not suppress a smile. Even today, a man married some thirty years, Bingley still unfailingly sought his friend’s advice.
“Bingley has recently received a communication from James Wilson proposing the setting up of a trust to administer the interests of Emma and her daughters,” Darcy explained. “He was very surprised. Knowing the circumstances of David Wilson’s death, he had not expected that there would be very much at all for Emma and the girls to inherit. But, contrary to his belief, Bingley found that James was proposing to put in trust a substantial sum of money, to which would be added the one-third share of the proceeds of the sale or lease of the property in Mayfair. He has asked that either Bingley or Jonathan be appointed as a trustee along with himself, to administer it. Now, Lizzie, what do you think of that?”
Darcy enjoyed seeing his wife’s expression change as she went from mild surprise
to complete amazement. “Darcy, what does this mean?” she demanded.
“James Wilson obviously wishes to establish some method by which Emma and her children will be fully supported and provided for in the future,” he replied, reasonably and logically.
“And he clearly intends to play some part in that future, would you not agree?” she asked, and when he said nothing, Elizabeth could not resist throwing her arms around him. “Darcy, you must not tease me, please. I suspect you do know something more than you have revealed, do you not?”
After a suitably tantalising pause, he nodded. “Yes, but you are to tell no one because, until Bingley replies, it is a confidence and must be respected.”
She was so keen to hear everything; he sat her down on the sofa before he continued.
“James Wilson has asked Bingley’s permission to propose marriage to Emma. There, ’tis out now. Are you happy?”
Elizabeth was ecstatic. “Happy! My dear, it is surely the best news for Emma.”
Darcy had to agree that it certainly was that, but advised her again not to speak of it even to Jane, until matters had been settled between Bingley and James Wilson.
Elizabeth wanted to know more. She was impatient for information. “Have you seen the letter? How does he write?” she asked.
Darcy, holding the better hand, for once, played with her. “Yes I have; he writes exceedingly well. There is no doubting his sincerity.” Seeing the look of sheer frustration upon her face, he relented and proceeded to explain, “James has asked only to be allowed to approach Emma. If she accepts him, he has promised they will wait until the formal year of mourning is over before they marry.”
“And?” she prompted eagerly.
“He has also declared in the warmest terms his deep love for Emma and her children, and claims that he has reason to hope that his addresses may not be unwelcome,” Darcy added.
Having considered this, Elizabeth persevered, “Tell me, what is Bingley’s response? Will he consent?” she asked.
Darcy chose his words with care, “In truth, James does not have to ask Bingley’s permission—Emma is a woman of independent means and can marry whom she pleases. But I think Wilson is simply attempting to do everything right.”
The Women of Pemberley Page 9
