Page 18 of A Fortune Most Fatal (Miss Austen Investigates #2)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
On the journey home, Jane mulls over her revised plan. Her first priority must be to find a way of contacting the old man from the Bull and George. Unfortunately, she did not speak to him directly or even catch his name. Their paths crossed only fleetingly as they shared a roof for one evening while travelling in opposite directions. However, Jane has reason to be sanguine as she has never known her mother let a piece of news, no matter how seemingly unrelated to the Austens’ fortunes, pass her by. At her first opportunity, Jane will write to Mrs. Austen, on the premise of wanting to relay all the details of their strange encounter with the old man to her Kent relations, and ask her to respond with a full report.
Once Jane has a way of tracing this second witness, she will tell Neddy he must use his authority as a magistrate to find the captain and press charges of unlawful killing against him, or she will reveal to the world what she knows of his liaison with Eleanor. Blackmail did not work for Spooner, but Neddy can hardly shake Jane by the scruff, and it is ultimately in his interests to make it safe for Eleanor to move on. In the meantime, Jane must impress upon Mrs. Knight the importance of improving the security of Godmersham Park and persuade Eleanor that Jane can be trusted with her secrets.
Jane does not share her deliberations with Mr. Bridges, as this would entail betraying Mrs. Knight’s confidence and surrendering what little power she might wield over her brother. She senses that Mr. Bridges is as reluctant to converse with her, owing to his concentrated efforts to regain command of his constitution, which makes for a gratifyingly peaceful ride home. Really, Jane has done Mr. Bridges a huge favour by exposing him to his first corpse. He may have been right in his assertion that he was never intended for a career in the armed forces, but his disposition must be fortified if he is in earnest about entering a profession in which one of his core duties will be to shepherd his flock, body and soul, from one realm to the next. He slows the horse as they approach Rowling to find an unfamiliar chaise stationed in the drive. At the sight of it, Mr. Bridges loses what little colour he has recovered. “What the devil is he doing here?”
“Who?” Jane asks, but he alights and races for the house without pausing to help her down. He must have grown tired of all his gallantry and be eager to dispose of her. Once Roger has restored Jane to her feet, she follows Mr. Bridges inside. Neddy stands at the entrance to his study with a deep crease in his forehead.
“What’s happened? Why did you call for the doctor?” asks Mr. Bridges. He must have recognised the conveyance. No wonder he made a dash for the door. Mr. Bridges may have had some terribly sharp words to say about Elizabeth, but she is his sister and, after the way his mother died, he’s bound to be fraught until both she and her baby are out of danger.
“It’s Beth. She fainted.”
“Fainted?” repeats Mr. Bridges.
“How so?” asks Jane.
“I don’t know. One moment we were having a lively discussion—”
“You were arguing,” Jane recalls Elizabeth’s fit of discomfort on the day she arrived. Was Elizabeth berating Neddy over Eleanor’s continued presence at Godmersham Park, or has she discovered her husband’s infidelities for herself ? He is hardly discreet. For all Jane knows, Eleanor may not be the only harlot he is using behind his wife’s back.
Neddy holds his hands aloft “—the next she was lying on the floor and I couldn’t rouse her. I knew Dr. Wilmot was expected at Goodnestone for Sir William, so I sent Roger to retrieve him immediately.”
Mr. Bridges places a foot on the first stair. “May I see her?”
“Not yet. Let the doctor work. Come and wait with me until he’s gone. Jane, you go up.” Neddy claps Mr. Bridges on the back, before drawing him into his study and closing the door.
Alone, Jane stares up at the elaborate staircase. It has never looked so imposing. Not for her a glass of port and a stilted conversation about the scarcity of game as she waits to hear Elizabeth’s fate second-hand. Oh, no. This is the reason Jane came to Kent. If there are any unpleasant consequences from Elizabeth’s fainting fit, it is Jane who must bear witness. With a heavy tread, she ascends the stairs to Neddy and Elizabeth’s chamber on the first floor. The door is slightly ajar. She pauses as she reaches the landing—not deliberately eavesdropping, just too much of a coward to enter.
“Really, Mrs. Austen. You must rest.” Dr. Wilmot’s voice is audible from within.
“But I have been resting, haven’t I, Susan?” replies Elizabeth. She most certainly has not been resting, but neither of her maids would dare disagree with their mistress. Poor Kitty or Alice to be placed in such a position.
“You will remember,” the doctor continues, “I advised you very strongly, after your previous lying-in, that it would be prudent to recover your health before conceiving another child.”
“You try telling my husband.” Elizabeth laughs. An uncomfortable silence ensues as Dr. Wilmot refrains from joining her. Damn Neddy, is there no end to his selfishness? Jane calculates there must have been just a few months between Fanny’s birth and Ted’s conception, even less between Ted and Georgy. Her mother and father did a much better job of spacing their children, granting Mrs. Austen leave to recover between each subsequent pregnancy. “It’s too late to regret that now. Are you certain my labour has not commenced?”
“I am. The distress you are experiencing is brought about by dropsy. But you must desist from exerting yourself or you really will bring on the baby before its time.”
“But the tightening, the pains. I feel just as I did in the hours before I birthed Georgy. Is it because there’s some deficiency with the child?”
Jane’s throat catches at the obvious distress in Elizabeth’s tone. Is her sister-in-law’s suffering the direct result of Neddy’s infractions? If he has contracted some dreadful disease through his philandering, and passed it to Elizabeth and the baby, Jane will never forgive him.
Dr. Wilmot sighs. “As far as I can judge, the child is perfectly well developed, and I detect a very strong heartbeat.”
“With me, then?” Elizabeth’s voice is on the point of cracking. Jane has never heard her so desperate.
“As I’ve already told you, you carry an excess of water around the baby. Perhaps it would be best if I were to drain some of it? I can insert an instrument to rupture the caul.”
“No! There’s no need,” Elizabeth cries.
“But if you’re uncomfortable?”
“No. I’ll rest. I promise.”
Jane swings the door open, eager to save Elizabeth from whatever instrument of torture Dr. Wilmot keeps in his bag. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”
“Ah, Jane.” Elizabeth is lying in bed, wearing a cap and nightgown. She reaches her arms out, grasping Jane’s hands and using them to lever herself upright. “You see, Doctor? I did follow your advice. My sister-in-law is here to assist me. I expect it’s because she abandoned me today that I came over faint. I did ask her not to go.”
“But …” Jane opens her mouth to rebut this accusation by pointing out that, despite her best efforts, Elizabeth has not once left the children under her sole care while she rested. It was Elizabeth who originally sent Jane to Godmersham Park to watch Eleanor, and Elizabeth who expressly desired Jane to do her bidding in Whitstable (albeit, as a result of Jane’s subtle manipulations, but she is not to know that). However, Elizabeth squeezes Jane’s hands so tightly that she is reminded of the urgency of dispensing with the doctor’s services.
“Miss Austen, I’d appeal to you to be more diligent in exercising your duties in future.” Dr. Wilmot wipes a bloody scalpel with a rag and places it in his valise. Kitty stands next to him, holding a bowl of what Jane assumes is Elizabeth’s blood. He must have bled her to ease the dropsy.
“Certainly, sir,” Jane replies, pressing Elizabeth’s fingers in return as Kitty shows the doctor out. “Why didn’t you tell me you were unwell?” she asks, as soon as she and Elizabeth are alone. “You know I’d be all too happy to take charge of the children. It’s why I’m here.”
“I wasn’t unwell.” Elizabeth withdraws her hands.
“Neddy said you fainted?”
“A trifling swoon, that’s all. It would never have happened if he hadn’t angered me so.”
“Why were you arguing?” Jane asks, fearing the answer.
“Because he refuses to demand his mother evict that conniving little wretch. Why else? Honestly, Jane, you swore you’d help oust her, but all I see you doing is flirting with my brother. If Edward allows Mrs. Knight to go on like this, my poor children will be swept aside for that hussy.”
“Beth, calm yourself. With a mother like you to defend their interests, your children will always be remembered.”
“And what if I’m not here to defend them?” Elizabeth’s eyes are bright with terror at the prospect of being torn from her children.
Jane draws breath. She cannot argue away her sister-in-law’s fears. There is good reason that it is customary for an expectant mother to prepare her last will and testament. “Mrs. Knight has already begun to suspect Eleanor is lying and I am confident she will be keen to move her on very soon.”
“Has she? Truly?”
Confident might be an exaggeration, but Jane is optimistic her plan will work. The old man was so furious about the negligence he had witnessed, she is sure he will be all too glad to testify against Captain Fairbairn. The only difficulty is locating them both. “Yes. You mustn’t make yourself ill over it.”
“I was probably just hungry. Did you get my oysters?”
“I did. Shall I fetch you a couple?” Jane plumps up the goose-down pillows behind Elizabeth. She may not be able to solve all of her sister-in-law’s problems, but she must do whatever she can to make her comfortable.
“Make it half a dozen. And some of Neddy’s French cheese on a slice of bread, if there’s any left.”
“The stinking kind?”
“It usually turns my stomach—but I have the most peculiar craving for it at present.”
Jane nods. She’s known pregnant women to have stranger fancies. She caught James’s first wife, Anne, chewing a stick of chalk when she was weeks away from lying in with their daughter, Anna.
Kitty sticks her nose around the door. “If you please, ma’am, if it is the dropsy, you’ll remember the midwife prescribed foxglove tea. Shall I brew some?”
Elizabeth slumps against her pillows. “If you must but bring me a large glass of port to wash it down, will you? It tastes vile.”
Jane pats her hand. “We’ll set you right. Just rest and let me take care of everything.”
As soon as Elizabeth is easy, Jane will write to Steventon. She muses how long it will take to receive a response from her mother. From her father’s letters to Neddy, she knows that Mr. and Mrs. Austen have left Town and begun their journey back to Hampshire. Alas, they have not seen Frank, who, in the true sailor way, was expected at Deptford but turned up in Madeira. It wasn’t an entirely wasted journey as her parents met his friend, Captain Gore, and had the pleasure of seeing the Triton launched on her maiden voyage. She prays her mother is party to the old man’s intended destination. Her initial relief that Neddy is not behind Fairbairn’s notes is giving way to the disquiet of remembering a dangerous scoundrel is at large: a man so villainous he has disregarded bringing about the deaths of all under his care and is so determined to maintain his freedom that he has sworn to spill the blood of anyone found harbouring the witness to his crime. It is no wonder Eleanor is afeard for her life. Jane must find a way to warn Mrs. Knight and gain Eleanor’s trust before the captain makes another attempt to penetrate Godmersham Park.