The Mansfield Park Murders

by Victoria Grossack

  ​“A moment, Sue – I need your help. Over the next few days; I need your help.”

  ​Susan inquired how she could be of assistance.

  ​“I do not wish to be lured into a game. I lost money to him before, and that may be why he has decided to visit. If his funds have run short – and George Yates likes to live well – he may wish to tempt me into a game. I have promised my father not to play, but temptation is easier to withstand when it is simply not there.”

  ​“Then we should make sure, Mr. Bertram, that you are engaged in other activities,” said Susan, suggesting that Tom plan on riding or walking or arranging some game that involved all of them. If desperate, he could plead a headache or indisposition – the idea made him frown because he did not wish to appear frail, especially after having been so ill before – or hide in his father’s library – another unpalatable counsel. After several suggestions were repulsed, Susan said, “Fanny would tell you simply to tell him the truth, that you have made a promise to your father not to play and that you intend to keep it, especially when you are under his roof.”

  ​With a smile, Tom protested that Fanny would never say such a thing – she might very well think it, but that she would never say it. Edmund might, however, give him the same advice and the more Tom thought about Susan’s last suggestion, the more he liked it, and that the counsel was easier to hear from his young cousin than from his clerical brother.

  ​“You will have to choose your method of resistance soon,” said Susan, for Mr. George Yates and his horse were approaching quickly.

  ​“Yes, I will,” said her cousin. “What a fine animal! Come, Sue, let us greet its rider.”

  ​The horse was a handsome black stallion; the rider was a well-dressed man. The man called out to Tom; Tom called back, and then the stranger descended from his horse. Susan stayed back a few paces, until Tom introduced her, presenting her as his cousin, Miss Price.

  ​“Your cousin! That explains it. I thought I had miscounted your sisters, for I did not recognize her, and yet I see a resemblance. And what a vision she presents! There is nothing lovelier than a young lady carrying roses!”

  ​Although Mr. Yates’s observations were complimentary, Susan was a little embarrassed by the pointedness of his remarks.

  ​Tom relieved her by talking about the horse, observing that it was fine and large, and would do honor to the Mansfield Park stables. The change of subject gave Susan the chance to observe the new arrival. Mr. George Yates, the elder son of Lord Dexthorpe, was taller and handsomer than his younger brother, but also heavier.

  ​“It is; it is! That is why I am in the area. A friend, not too far from here, was ready to dispose of him, and so I had to come this way to collect him. I left most of my things in a room at F—, so that I could travel light. I count on you and John for necessaries, should I be wanting. My brother is here, is he not?”

  ​Tom assured Mr. Yates that Mr. John Yates was at Mansfield Park and that the former would be well taken care of during his visit.

  ​“Your horse must be thirsty,” remarked Susan.

  ​“Yes, as are we all, including your roses. Jackson!” Tom called to Stephen Jackson, one of the grooms, who had been observing the new arrival, and who hurried over to take the reins, while a footman appeared and removed the burdens from the horse and its owner.

  ​Susan lingered long enough to see the horse being led to the stables, and Mr. John Yates coming out the front door to greet his brother. Both Tom Bertram and Mr. John Yates were friendly and hospitable – but both had reason to resent the new arrival. Tom had lost money to Mr. Yates in cards, so much that he had asked Susan for her assistance in avoiding temptation to gamble, while Mr. John Yates was a second son whose expectations were nothing compared to his brother’s. But could those things really be blamed on Mr. Yates? Presumably Tom could have refused to play, and no one could do anything about whether one was born first or second.

  ​A good-looking man, almost as fine as her cousins, Mr. Yates would certainly be the center of attention this evening. Susan went inside to arrange the roses and to inform the other inmates of Mansfield Park that the eldest son of the Baron of Dexthorpe had arrived.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The arrival of someone new, unknown to many, will inspire people to their best behavior or at least to caution in their choice of conversation, especially when that someone is a handsome man and the eldest son of a lord. Whether or not Tom might marry Susan, how Edmund and Fanny were doing now that they were at Thornton Lacey, or even if they should take notice of the Grants at the Parsonage – these topics were all forgotten, or at least set aside, for the moment, in favor of Mr. George Yates.

  ​Mr. Yates was welcomed by his brother, his erstwhile friend Tom Bertram, and even Mrs. Rushworth uttered several pleasant remarks, but Julia Yates greeted the new arrival with such brief sentences and such coolness that Susan’s curiosity was provoked. Yesterday Susan had wondered if Julia were becoming a likeness of her mother, Lady Bertram, fated to spend most of her life upon a sofa; now her speculation shifted to wondering if Julia was somehow turning into the image of Mrs. Norris, with Mrs. Norris’s general hostility towards some of her nearest relatives. Mrs. Norris, herself, did not seem pleased to see Mr. Yates, and stared at him angrily, an attitude that was unintelligible to Susan, as Mrs. Norris generally valued men of rank and wealth. Could Mrs. Norris be concerned for Tom? Or did she just resent the intrusion of a stranger during this time, on this rare visit to her family? Those sentiments could be certainly imputed to Sir Thomas, who addressed Mr. Yates with guarded gravity. Sir Thomas had to be concerned for his eldest son, although Tom’s problems were from long ago and his behavior in the intervening years had been without reproach. Lady Bertram, unaware that Mr. George Yates had been responsible for her eldest son’s gambling losses – losses that had cost Edmund an important living, and part of his income for years – was perhaps the sincerest in her friendliness towards her son-in-law’s elder brother, except that her position on the sofa and her soft, placid inquiries kept her from attracting much notice.

  ​The servants, unlike the family, had fewer scruples with respect to the new arrival: the eldest son of the Baron of Dexthorpe, later to be Lord Dexthorpe himself! Despite Sir Thomas’s rank and respectability, few people visited Mansfield Park, and so they were determined to make the most of it, and discussed his horse, his appearance, and his traveling clothes.

  ​Sir Thomas, unaware that Susan had already been introduced by Tom, brought her forward: “Mr. Yates, this is my niece, Miss Price.”

  ​Susan curtsied, while the Honorable George Yates said it was a pleasure to meet any of Sir Thomas’s relations. Possibly unaware that he was unwelcome to so many of Mansfield Park’s inhabitants, or perhaps indifferent to their opinions, he spoke at length when others would not. He thanked Sir Thomas for the opportunity to make a stop during his journey, as it was always more pleasant to stay at an estate with friends instead of some inn with strangers, and that he was especially grateful for the sake of his horse. The animal was a new acquisition, and he needed to move it from its previous stables to its new home. When pressed, Mr. Yates agreed that he could have entrusted this task to a groom, but that he wished to spend some time with the new horse. Besides, he liked to travel, and he had always wanted to see this area of the country.

  ​Mr. John Yates remarked, “I did not know you had any intention to purchase a new horse.”

  ​“It seems rather extravagant,” added Julia.

  ​Horses, especially those of high quality, were expensive to maintain. Susan, who sometimes reviewed the estate accounts, had been shocked when she discovered that the allowance for the Mansfield Park stables was far greater than the incomes of many families in Portsmouth.

  ​“I assure you, John, my purse is no lighter for this acquisition,” said the elder Mr. Yates.

  ​“Did you win him in some game?” pressed Mr. John Yates.

  ​Mr. George Yate
s attempted to appear ashamed, but the corners of his lips twitched, pride lurking beneath the counterfeit contrition. He admitted the stallion was the prize of a wager, and that he had won him – “from a fellow who lives about ten miles from here, on an estate called Sotherton.”

  ​At this everyone gasped, for the proprietor of Sotherton was Mr. Rushworth, Maria’s former husband.

  ​Although she blushed, Maria said nothing, but Mrs. Norris sniffed and said, “So Mr. Rushworth has taken to losing at cards, has he?”

  ​No one else seemed disposed to discuss the unfortunate Mr. Rushworth, and after a long moment of uncomfortable silence, Sir Thomas spoke gravely. “I hope, Mr. Yates, that as long as you are visiting my home, you will not engage anyone in wagers. I do not approve of gaming.”

  ​Mr. Yates recast his features into a serious mode, and replied earnestly. “No, Sir Thomas, I would never think of doing such a thing!” Then he added with levity, “Your stables are safe from me.”

  ​“I hope so,” said Sir Thomas, not smiling.

  ​“Of course, I will respect my host’s wishes,” said Mr. Yates, bowing slightly, but a few minutes later, when the others were occupied by the arrival of the tea urn and Mrs. Norris’s insistence on presiding over the procedure, Mr. Yates said to Tom, “So I suppose there will be no cards while I am here?”

  ​Susan was appalled that someone could make a promise, and then attempt to break it such a short while later. Did those with the expectations of riches and rank imagine that they were above qualities such as keeping faith and trust or even honoring their hosts?

  ​“You heard my father.”

  ​“Not even for trifling sums? Just enough to make it interesting?” wheedled Mr. Yates.

  ​Tom hesitated, then seemed to realize that Susan was listening, for he glanced in her direction, and then said: “Let us talk of something else,” and inquired about the ride from Sotherton.

  ​Susan felt a rush of pride in Tom, for resisting temptation, and then experienced a strange sensation. Although Mr. Yates was fairly young, apparently healthy and most would deem him handsome, she suddenly imagined how he would appear after several additional decades of life: stooped, bloated and cruel.

  ​The image in her head was so peculiar that she continued to stare at the original, and he perceived her attention. Mr. Yates’s expression was first puzzled, then his lips twitched, as if he interpreted her interest as admiration. Embarrassed, and unsettled by what she had imagined, Susan averted her gaze. For a moment she lost the thread of the conversation. When she could listen again, she heard Mr. Yates say that he wished to go to the stables to review the situation of his new horse.

  ​“Certainly,” agreed Tom, saying that he, too, would like another opportunity to admire the animal.

  ​The summer day was long, with several hours of sunshine remaining, and many expressed an interest in the stallion, and so nearly every member of their party walked out. The only exception was Lady Bertram, who said she preferred to treat herself to a little doze, but everyone else – including Julia, who hesitated but was persuaded by her husband that a little fresh air and movement would do her good – rose and quitted the drawing-room. Maria, having recovered from her previous embarrassment, wondered aloud if she actually knew the animal, while Sir Thomas was rather grave about the idea that it had been taken, through some trick, from his former son-in-law.

  ​The distance usually required less than five minutes to cover, but with so many, the little walk took nearly ten, extended by their leaving the house through the front door instead of a side door which was much closer to their goal. Susan rarely visited the stables; when she rode, the mare was brought to the front, but like every corner of Mansfield Park, the area was well maintained, everything in its proper place (such a relief after Portsmouth, with its dirt and noise).

  ​Her uncle and her eldest cousin took great interest in the stallion, which Stephen Jackson brought forward. Maria claimed she was familiar with the horse, and was delighted to see it again, stroking its nose, and told Mr. Yates that she trusted he would treat it well.

  ​“I hope you would not suspect me of anything else,” said Mr. Yates.

  ​Susan approached her cousin Julia, who, unlike the others, hung back, frowning as if something about the horse displeased her. “Is not a horse like this expensive?” asked Susan. “I understand that your brother-in-law acquired it for nothing, but its maintenance will be dear.”

  ​“Yes,” said Julia. “We could not afford to keep such an animal.”

  ​Susan wondered if the income of the elder brother was much greater than the income of the younger Mr. Yates. That was certainly possible; elder sons, expected to inherit, were often awarded greater stipends by their families. On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. John Yates also had the interest from Julia’s dowry.

  ​Perhaps Mr. Yates had a substantial fortune. Perhaps he did not, and was horribly in debt. Perhaps he intended to sell the animal. Her mind came up with a half dozen possibilities.

  ​The elder Mr. Yates seemed to sense her interest in him, for he turned and asked, “What is your opinion, Miss Price? Do you ride?”

  ​Susan was surprised by his addressing her directly, but she answered calmly: “A little.” Just as she had with respect to playing the pianoforte, Susan had determined to take advantage of her improved situation and had learned to ride; she enjoyed the exercise a great deal.

  ​“You should try him. I believe he is gentle enough to carry a young lady.”

  ​Susan rather doubted that – the stallion was large and spirited – but she simply demurred and said that she expected the horse, after its walk from Sotherton, had already had sufficient exercise for the day.

  ​“Miss Price has another mount at her disposal,” said Sir Thomas.

  ​Maria and Mrs. Norris stroked the nose of the animal, while Tom and the elder Mr. Yates discussed the condition of one of the stallion’s shoes with a groom. Sir Thomas approached Mr. and Mrs. John Yates. “The horse is very fine,” he pronounced, “but I would like to know in exactly what circumstances your brother acquired it from Mr. Rushworth. John, I trust you to find out.”

  ​Mr. John Yates solemnly said he would do what he could to learn more.

  ​The baronet added that whatever had happened was certainly not the fault of the horse and that while the animal was in the Mansfield Park stables it would receive the best treatment.

  ​The men gave instructions to the grooms, and then the whole party turned in order to walk back to the house. On their way, to Susan’s surprise, Julia aligned her steps to match hers. “Susan, let me advise you: do not flirt with my brother-in-law, George Yates.”

  ​Susan, embarrassed and angry, said, “I assure you, Julia, I have no such intention; I have no intention to flirt with anyone.” And she quickened her steps so that she was no longer beside Julia.

  ​As she climbed the stairs into the house, Susan wondered at the words. Both her female cousins seemed determined against her making a good marriage. Firstly, she did not know why they would suspect her of any matrimonial ambitions; she did not believe she had flirted with anyone. Secondly, her cousins seemed against any elevation on her part. Why? Did they dislike her so much? She did not see how that was possible, given how little time they had spent with her. She had only met Maria two days ago, and her acquaintance with Julia was not much greater. Did they object to her situation and want someone better for Tom Bertram and George Yates? Yet Maria and Julia had accepted Fanny’s marriage with Edmund. Or perhaps, Susan reflected, they only appeared to have done so, and possibly the alliance with one poor cousin was reason enough to do whatever they could to prevent another; certainly, that was Mrs. Norris’s attitude.

  ​On the other hand, a match with either Mr. Bertram or Mr. Yates would be far superior – at least in the world’s eyes – than the one Fanny had made with Edmund, who was only a clergyman. Both Tom Bertram and George Yates were eldest sons, with titles in their futures;
Susan could understand if her relations’ sensibilities were offended at the prospect of such an elevation. She, herself, was almost giddy at either idea. But why even imagine it? Tom was friendly towards her, but not particularly so; of course, she knew him well as they were both inmates of Mansfield Park. But why would Julia caution her with respect to Mr. George Yates, with whom she had only exchanged a few sentences?

  ​Perhaps their interferences were kindly meant. Susan had known Tom for two years, but Maria was his sister, and undoubtedly understood her brother’s character better than she did – or at least Maria had reason to believe she understood Tom’s character better – and even Tom himself had claimed to be unworthy of Susan’s affection. As for Mr. George Yates, Susan did not know him at all, so Julia’s warning deserved attention.

  ​Still, the fact that she was receiving so much of this sort of advice was vexing, for she did not understand what in her behavior had provoked it. When they returned to the house, Susan hung back, devoting herself to Lady Bertram, assisting her with her carpet work, and even, at Mrs. Norris’s suggestion, turning to the poor basket. Susan listened to the others and their conversation – much about the horse, whose value seemed to increase with every mention – but only spoke when spoken to, except to Lady Bertram or to Sir Thomas.

  ​The evening passed agreeably. The men lingered over some of Sir Thomas’s claret after dinner, but eventually joined the ladies. Susan was relieved to see that cards were not suggested – Tom was not being led into temptation – instead, Maria and Julia entertained them with several duets. Susan, when asked, declined to play, and her remaining in a corner with the poor basket prevented her from being the target of any of Mrs. Norris’s ill-natured remarks. When she retired, she was able to sleep, reflecting that the first day after Fanny’s departure had been a little uncomfortable but had passed well enough.