“Oh a very personable young man, indeed; tall, though not as tall as Daniel Faulkner, quite a bit younger I would think, and very handsome. But what strikes one most about him is how gregarious and cheerful he is. It must be something about the country, about Australia I mean, because both he and Daniel appear to be such optimists, whereas here, we are all set about with critics and loud complainers on every side, are we not?” said Jessica.
Caroline had to agree. She remembered that Colonel Fitzwilliam had often despaired of finding anyone to share his hopes for the nation. When she’d asked him why he was quitting public life, he had said, “I have grown weary of them, my love; they are mostly little men with small minds, with no dreams and no ideals, only an appetite for profit, who have replaced the dreamers and heroes of the past.” She recalled that he had shown little interest in local politics thereafter.
Distracted for a moment by her memories, Caroline forgot that Jessica had a carriage waiting for her, and when she offered to drive her home, she was jolted back to the present. “It looks like rain; you should not be walking, Aunt; let me take you home,” she said, and Caroline was happy to accept. Before they parted, she thanked Jessica for her kindness and for her most engaging account of the party at Camden House.
“I am so glad we met this morning, Jessica, I would not have missed our little chat for the world,” she said. “I doubt if Rachel or Virginia would have half as diverting a tale to tell. They are neither of them as good as you are at recounting such occasions. Rachel has little interest in them, and Virginia appears not to believe in communication at all.”
In that matter at least, Caroline was proved right. The two young women returned later that day, claiming to have enjoyed themselves hugely, to the extent that they were utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, which they did until it was almost time for dinner. When they did appear downstairs, Caroline, without mentioning her meeting with Jessica, asked for some report of the previous night’s party.
This time it was Virginia who spoke up to say it had been a very good party, while Rachel merely smiled and said she thought everyone had enjoyed themselves.
“Did anyone sing or play? Did you dance?” asked Caroline.
“Oh no,” said Virginia, “no one did anything so boring as singing and dancing. We played games instead.”
Caroline pretended to be surprised. “Games?”
“Yes indeed, lots of very clever and amusing games with words and phrases and hidden meanings…” said Virginia, before returning to concentrate upon her dinner. Virginia always had a hearty appetite.
“It was Mr Fraser’s idea; he got everyone involved in playing games after dinner,” Rachel explained, but neither appeared ready to go further and tell her, as Jessica had done, why they had had an extraordinarily enjoyable evening. Perhaps, thought Caroline, they were still weary and would talk more later.
But they did not, leaving her completely baffled. She could not understand why it was that two young women who had so enjoyed themselves at a party would be reluctant to confess it.
* * *
Some explanation came a few days later when Georgiana Grantley sent Caroline a note, and a carriage arrived from Pemberley for Virginia. Georgiana explained briefly that she wished to have Virginia back at Pemberley for a few days, mentioning that Mr Faulkner and his friend, Adam Fraser, who had recently arrived from New South Wales, would be dining with the Darcys on Thursday and staying over to shoot on the morrow.
I think you will understand, dear Caroline, why I believe it is a good idea for Virginia to be present, she wrote, and Caroline smiled to herself. Clearly, Georgiana was pursuing her previously expressed goal of finding a husband for her daughter and was hoping that Virginia would find one or other of the gentlemen from Australia acceptable.
As to the two gentlemen concerned, not having the advantage of meeting Mr Fraser, Caroline had no way of knowing how he would respond to Georgiana’s plans, but she was more certain than ever that Daniel Faulkner was an unlikely candidate.
That night, as they dined alone for the first time in a fortnight, Caroline and Rachel clearly enjoyed the absence of their house guest. Neither wished to seem ungracious, but both mother and daughter could not hide their relief. Virginia, despite their best efforts, remained unlovable, demanding, often aggravating, and occasionally insufferable. “How much longer will Virginia stay with us, Mama?” Rachel asked, when the servants had left them.
Caroline looked reproachful. “Rachel, I thought you were getting on well with Virginia. She has not been upsetting you, has she?” she asked.
Rachel’s expression spoke volumes. “No more than she upsets anyone else, I suppose, but, Mama, I really would like to have some time to myself. I don’t mind Virginia staying with us; I don’t even mind her occupying two rooms; I just wish she would not always require me to attend to her and follow her lead in everything. I should like some time to read, draw, or practice the piano, but it seems Virginia is bored by all of those things and always wishes to do something else, and she must have me with her. She enjoys having an audience, I think.”
Caroline was contrite and very sympathetic. “Rachel my dear, I am sorry. I hadn’t realised that Virginia imposed upon you, at least not to that extent. I certainly did not intend for her to do any such thing; you should not have let her, or at least, you ought have told me.”
Rachel, whose good nature would not allow her to blame her mother for her troubles, refused to complain further. “It is of no great importance, Mama… I know you invited Virginia to stay to give her mother and Mr and Mrs Darcy some respite; I have no complaint about that at all. Compared to theirs, the inconvenience to me is very little,” she said, and Caroline, touched by her generosity, tried to reassure her daughter that perhaps the end of her vexation was in sight. “It seems to me that Virginia may soon be returning to Pemberley for good; her mother wishes it, I think,” she said.
Rachel smiled. “But does Virginia wish to return?”
Caroline was thoughtful, weighing her words carefully. “I rather think that would depend on one or other of the two gentlemen from Australia. Georgiana seems keen to have Virginia at Pemberley this week, and I understand Daniel Faulkner and his friend Mr Fraser are to be guests at Pemberley.” When Rachel said nothing, her mother asked, “What do you think, Rachel?”
“I don’t know what to think, Mama, Virginia has said nothing to me on the subject. I did notice that she seemed to enjoy Mr Fraser’s company the other night at Camden House. She was laughing a lot, and so was he, but I cannot say if that meant anything. It was unusual, I will admit, to see Virginia so willing to be entertained and take part in the games, she is usually not so amenable, but I cannot say if that had anything to do with the gentlemen from Australia.”
“And Mr Faulkner, was he not as involved with the games as his friend?” asked Caroline, very casually.
Rachel answered without any hesitation. “Yes, he was, but he was on Jessica’s team, not Virginia’s, and so was I.”
“So, it was a contest between two teams? Whose team won?” asked her mother, with a smile.
“Ours did. Mr Fraser was very good; he knew many of the answers, but Virginia and Julian did not,” Rachel explained and added, “I think Virginia was rather cross, but Mr Fraser seemed to laugh it all off. He didn’t take it very seriously at all.”
“Mr Fraser sounds like he must be a pleasant sort of person. Is he?”
“He is, I think, but then I hardly know him, Mama. He is genial and tells a lot of entertaining stories about his life in Australia, which Virginia enjoyed very much. She said, when we went to our room afterwards, that she had not had so much fun in years,” said Rachel, and Caroline smiled.
“Well, if Virginia has as much fun at Pemberley on Thursday, she may well decide to move back there permanently. Do you suppose the two gentlemen enjoyed Virginia’s company?” she asked.
Rachel laughed, appearing a little embarrassed when she answere
d, “I don’t really know, Mama. Mr Fraser seemed to be having fun, although Mr Faulkner was a little reserved, I thought. We talked a lot during dinner, about cricket and music—he knows a great deal about music, too. Afterwards, I thought he seemed rather uneasy, but I cannot be sure. He does seem very different to his friend Mr Fraser.”
The servants came in to remove their plates and Caroline changed the conversation, but made a mental note of Rachel’s comments, which she found quite intriguing. Clearly her daughter had been sufficiently interested to take notice of the difference between the two men.
The rest of the meal was spent in trivial talk about the sweetness of the fruit and the excellence of the cheese at Camden House. “They grow and make their own,” said Rachel, “the dinner was truly delicious.”
They never did find out what exactly happened at the Pemberley House party, but were free to speculate when, a day or two later, the maid whose services Mrs Grantley and her daughter had shared arrived to pack up Virginia’s things and take them away.
A brief note from her mistress thanking Caroline for her kind hospitality had been delivered, while Rachel had received a little gift from Virginia with a note that said, Thank you, and I am sure you must be happy to have your room back.
Caroline was quite certain that this meant Georgiana’s hopes for Virginia were close to being fulfilled. However, that she had no way of knowing which of the two gentlemen was involved, she found exceedingly vexing.
As for Rachel, it appeared that she was unconcerned about the matter. Grateful to have her home restored to its former tranquil state, she went about rearranging the rooms and indulging in all those simple pleasures she had postponed in order that Virginia might be satisfied. She could, whenever she wished, wander at will into the farmyard or walk by the river that formed the boundary of the property to sketch or collect wildflowers, practice her piano in the music room or read, while lying in the hammock her father had slung between two trees in the orchard. It was bliss. Her mother, understanding her feelings, left Rachel to her own devices.
After a week of such singular enjoyment, Rachel had begun to feel guilty that she had not paid sufficient attention to her mother. It was as though she had become intoxicated with the sense of freedom that Virginia’s sudden departure had given her, to the exclusion of every other feeling.
On the afternoon in question, Rachel had been sketching by the river when she decided, quite suddenly, that she had been neglecting her mother and needed to get back home to her. Besides, the sky was clouding over and it looked like rain.
As she packed up her satchel and prepared to leave, she caught sight of two people, a man and a woman, walking among the trees on the far side of the river. They were too far away to be easily identified, but Rachel thought the man looked familiar. As the couple moved deeper into the woods, she lost sight of them; then, hearing laughter, she turned around and at that moment recognised the laughing voice of Mr Adam Fraser. She had heard that laugh many times at the dinner party at Camden House and was sure she was not mistaken. Puzzled, she lingered a few more minutes, in order to be sure, but the pair had disappeared from sight, and with rain threatening, she decided to make her way back to the house.
Approaching the house, Rachel saw her mother and a gentleman at the front door. It was unmistakably Mr Faulkner, and he looked as though he was just taking his leave of her.
Stepping out into the drive, he saw Rachel and stopped. “Miss Rachel! How very nice to see you again. I believe you have been out sketching in the woods.”
The mention of the woods made her jump. “No, I mean yes, I have been out sketching, but I did not go into the woods, I was down by the river…” she said quickly.
“And did you do much work?” he asked, and again, she was a little awkward as she answered, “No, I fear not, the light wasn’t very good and I was distracted…”
“Distracted?” He seemed surprised, and she was relieved when the rain came down in earnest and Caroline called to them, “You will both be soaked through in a minute; you might as well come back in, Mr Faulkner, and Rachel, do go upstairs and change or you will surely catch cold.” Rachel obliged at once, glad to evade the questions.
She wanted to be alone to think, and as she delayed getting changed, she hoped that when she came downstairs Daniel Faulkner would be gone.
She was right. As the rain eased, he had borrowed an umbrella and set out for Camden Park. Rachel was surprised to find Caroline standing by the window, gazing out on the darkening garden and looking very anxious indeed. So much so that Rachel, who had intended to tell her mother what she had seen and heard in the woods, became concerned and, wishing not to add to her anxieties, kept silent. Instead, she asked about Mr Faulkner’s visit and was even more puzzled when her mother appeared to have very little to say. Her obvious reluctance to speak about it was in complete contrast to her usual openness, and Rachel could not understand it. Quite clearly, Caroline had been disturbed by something, and since she had not appeared to be so before his visit, Rachel felt free to assume that it had to do with some matter concerning Mr Daniel Faulkner.
That night, they dined in an uncomfortable silence to which neither was accustomed. Rachel’s concern was expressed in a note she wrote in her diary before she went to bed. She wrote:
I cannot make out what it is that worries Mama, and while I am certain that it must be linked to the visit of Mr Faulkner, for as far I could tell, she was quite cheerful before it, I am unable to imagine how he could have said or done anything that could cause Mama to become so perturbed. I am unaware of any circumstance involving Mr Faulkner that could cause her such anxiety.
As she pondered her problem, her chief concern was her mother’s apparent inability to do what they had always done over the years: talk openly about any matter that troubled them.
Indeed, since the last of her siblings had left the nest, Rachel and Caroline had grown closer together, sharing the happiest times and later the difficult, almost unbearably painful days just before and after Colonel Fitzwilliam’s death. Those last days and the months following had so bonded their lives together, they had been since then more like sisters than mother and daughter, sharing without reservation both sorrow and joy.
This present disruption to their harmonious and affectionate relationship both baffled and saddened her. Not elegant or demure like her sisters, Isabella and Amy, nor as clever as her brother David, Rachel had been from childhood her mother’s pet.
Born not long after her brother Edward’s tragic death, she had been at first a disappointment and then, to the soft-hearted colonel and Caroline, an accident-prone little person, who soon became their special child.
Rachel’s bond with her parents had proved so secure, she had never felt the restless desire that many children feel to leave their family home and had stated with a remarkable degree of determination that she would not be persuaded to do so, unless she were to fall very deeply in love. The warm relationship she had developed with her mother was a vital part of her sense of security.
Now, she was experiencing the loss of some of that stability, and it troubled her considerably. Having slept rather fitfully, she came downstairs to breakfast and found her mother dressed and ready to go out. The small carriage was waiting at the door.
Caroline had already had breakfast, and as Rachel entered the room, she had risen from the table. Desperate to know what was afoot, Rachel rushed to her side, “Mama, whatever is happening? I have been so worried… Where are you going?”
“Only to Pemberley, my dear; there’s nothing for you to worry about.” Caroline was surprised at the intensity of Rachel’s concern.
“Why must you go to Pemberley? Is there something wrong? Is it me? Is it something I have done? Please, Mama, I must know; can you not tell me?” she pleaded, and Caroline, surprised at her distress, could not help her tears.
“Of course it isn’t you, my dearest girl. Whatever gave you that notion? There is a problem, but it has nothing to do
with you at all; and while I cannot talk about it now, I promise to tell you all about it when I return,” she said, and while Rachel wasn’t entirely reassured, at least having spoken out, she felt she was no longer isolated from her mother.
They embraced and Caroline went, leaving Rachel wondering what manner of problem at Pemberley would cause her mother so much distress.
* * *
When Caroline reached Pemberley, she was given the bad news that Mrs Darcy had a severe cold and could not come downstairs. It meant that the message she had despatched the previous afternoon asking urgently to see Lizzie and Georgiana had achieved little.
Caroline feared she would now have to see Georgiana alone, and that was not going to be easy. Seated in the more intimate sitting room, rather than the grand saloon, she was nevertheless uneasy about the magnitude of the task she had undertaken. She had fears, too, that her intervention may well be regarded as presumptuous and so do more harm than good.
While waiting alone, she considered for a moment whether she should make some excuse and flee, but it was too late; she heard footsteps in the hall, and the door opened to admit Georgiana and, unexpectedly, Mr Darcy.
Despite the cordiality of their greetings and the genuine warmth of Mr Darcy’s welcome, Caroline detected a certain degree of perplexity in their reception of her, which was bound to render her task more difficult.
While the appearance of Mr Darcy had surprised her at first, she was soon to be grateful for his presence. Caroline assumed, correctly, that Elizabeth, having received her note, had alerted her husband to the urgency of her request and persuaded him to see Caroline in her stead.
The servants brought in refreshments, which they set out on a table, and Mr Darcy, having invited Caroline to help herself, took a chair beside the fireplace, while Georgiana, appearing to be almost as ill at ease as Caroline, could not settle and kept walking restlessly about the room.
To Caroline’s question about Virginia, she had replied simply that Virginia had gone to Ashford Park at the invitation of the Bingleys. When she had asked if Jonathan and Anna were still with the Bingleys, Mr Darcy had said they had returned to Netherfield yesterday. “And the gentlemen from Australia?” she had asked casually, to which Georgiana had responded, “Mr Fraser has gone to Scotland on family business; he left last morning and will not be back until Saturday. I understand Daniel Faulkner is still at Camden Park.”
Legacy of Pemberley (The Pemberley Chronicles; Pride and Prejudice Sequel Series) Page 21
