Page 117 of A Life Diverted
On Wednesday morning, the Fitzwilliams and Carringtons were visiting the Darcys and Bennets when the Prince stopped by after meeting with his parents and siblings at Buckingham House.
His other brothers and sisters who were in Town were informed they had a hitherto unknown niece and were keen to meet Princess Beth and introduce her to her cousins.
The King and Queen told their son that a royal notice would appear in the evening editions of the papers announcing Princess Elizabeth Priscilla Francine Bennet, which would state that she was recognized as a legitimate grandchild.
“It seems that Lizzy’s introduction to the King and Queen could not have gone better,” Matlock stated just before the Prince informed the group of the impending notice.
“True, except I believe Bennet has omitted to share his news with you. Will you tell them or should I, Lord Thomas ?” The Prince was distracted momentarily as Bennet rolled his eyes.
“Did the King elevate our friend?” Holder asked.
“How is it you never mentioned anything after your return from Buckingham House?” Darcy added.
“The King named Bennet Baron Longbourn in thanks for looking after his granddaughter all of these years,” the Prince informed the group. “The announcement will be with the one about Lizzy and list the elevation of Lord and Lady Longbourn.”
“Lady Francine,” Lady Elaine stated, “how well that sounds.”
“York, were you aware your father was going to bestow a title on Bennet, here?” Holder asked.
“Not until the Lord Chamberlain had Bennet kneel. Even though Bennet and Fanny protested the need to honour them thusly, in my opinion they deserve this and more.” The Prince met Bennet’s stare, challenging his daughter’s adopted father to gainsay him.
Bennet raised his hands in surrender. “It is not something I wanted, imagined, or needed, but one does not tell the King they are not willing to accept an award from him,” Bennet stated stoically.
“It was not a question of my preference, it was quite decided already so there was nothing to be done but accept grasciously.”
“Poor Sir William and Lady Lucas. They thrived on the fact they were the only titled ones in the neighbourhood—that is until Uncle Freddy was revealed to be a Prince—then all of the titled visitors in the neighbourhood made them feel their own insignificance,” Fanny told the group.
“Before that, they were the only citizens of the area with titles, but now we are above them in rank, not to mention what they will say when they find out our Lizzy is royalty. We will include them in our social life as we always have so they can see we are as we have ever been. The new titles will not change us, save our address in formal situations.”
“That reminds me,” the Prince stated, “now that Lizzy is being recognised and the notice will mention her late mother , I believe it is time to post Priscilla’s final letter.”
“You have the right of it, York,” Bennet agreed, then looked at his wife to gauge her opinion on the matter.
“There is no choice now,” Fanny allowed. “I suspected it would need to be done so I have the letter with me. I will write the direction and place it with your outgoing post, Robert.”
“If I may, I would like to write a note to be included with the letter to warn my daughter’s other grandparents not to dare approach or importune her or my wrath will be great,” the Prince stated firmly.
Darcy gave the Prince the use of his desk. It did not take long to write a succinct missive, and its meaning could not be missed. If the Earl and Countess of Jersey ignored the warning contained in the letter, it would be at their peril.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The next day, the post arrived at Broadhurst, along with the previous evening’s broadsheets from London. As usual, letters were placed on the master’s desk by the butler, and the newspapers on the table in the breakfast parlour.
Lord Jersey was enjoying his repast, trying once more to ascertain a way to regain the society which they had once enjoyed, when he heard his wife dissolve into tears and wail in anguish. “Sarah, what is it?”
“Priscilla is dead, and she had a daughter!” Lady Jersey cried. “Your cruel actions have forever denied me seeing my daughter again!”
“What makes you utter such nonsense?” Lord Jersey demanded. Without another word, his crying wife passed him the paper opened to the page she was reading.
Lord Jersey’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.
There was a royal decree announcing the King and Queen’s acceptance of their granddaughter, Princess Elizabeth Priscilla Francine Bennet .
The notice mentioned the sad passing of her birthmother, Princess Priscilla, in childbirth.
There was not a word about her maternal grandparents, but in the same notice it mentioned the elevation of a new baron, Lord Thomas Bennet.
“The last thing my daughter knew of us in this world was that we rejected her,” Lady Jersey lamented, the guilt over not finding a way to circumvent her husband crushing her.
“There is no mention of us. First your actions denied me my daughter; now it seems we will not be allowed to be part of our granddaughter’s life. ”
“Pish tosh,” Lord Jersey returned dismissively. “The girl will be our way back into society.”
After he broke his fast, as was his wont, the master of the estate repaired to his study, noticing Prince Frederick’s seal on a thick letter waiting at the top of the pile.
In his mind this was the redemption Lord Jersey was hoping for.
When he opened it, he noted there was a single sheet he presumed was from the prince, but he focused on the second missive because the names—his and his wife’s names—were in his late daughter’s hand, though the direction was in a hand he did not know at all.
Lord Jersey had his wife summoned, and he handed her the letter from their daughter to read, wanting to know what she had written, then he would turn his attention to that which the prince had added. Lady Sarah read aloud.
27 February 1790
Lord and Lady Jersey,
I will not use the appellation of mother and father, as what you have done to me—broken with me when I needed your succour the most—are not the actions of those worthy of the name Mother and Father.
If you are reading this letter, then I did not survive the birth of my child, so this will serve as a final goodbye.
No matter the sex of the child, if I am alive to do so, I will use your names as the child’s middle name, Sarah if it is a girl and Cyril for a boy.
No matter how you have treated me, you are my parents and gifted me with life.
“Let me read the notice again,” Lady Sarah found the page.
“There is no Sarah in her name; I have a feeling our granddaughter demanded her name be changed once she was informed of the way we treated her mother. She assumed I supported your cruel cutting of our daughter; I cannot blame her as she had no way of knowing.” Her tears flowing anew, she returned to read the rest of the short message.
Whether or not you have my child in your lives is up to you. If you try to contact me because you are contrite for your treatment of me—your firstborn—then you will be welcomed with open arms.
If you are motivated by anything else, my sister Fanny knows my wishes and you will only receive this letter when my child’s existence becomes public knowledge, or he/she reaches the age of eighteen, whichever occurs first.
Your heartbroken daughter,
Priscilla
Lord Jersey saw his dreams of redemption through his granddaughter crumble before his eyes. The only hope now was the letter from the Prince; mayhap there was still some salvation in that missive.
“I should have never acquiesced to your decree, Cyril. For shame, I did not have it in me to stand up to you even when I knew it was wrong. That guilt will be with me for the rest of my days. Now I will never see my firstborn until I am granted entrance to heaven—if I am granted such,” Lady Sarah stated firmly.
Without comment, her husband read the note from the Prince, still telling himself their—his—vindication would be contained within.
18 December 1806
London
Do not for one moment think about importuning my daughter!
If—and only if—she indicates her desire to know you—which after the way you treated her birthmother is unlikely—then you may approach her.
If you do so without expressed invitation, the penalty I enumerated that day at Netherfield Park will be executed immediately.
I have the full support of my father—the King!
Frederick, Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Duke of York and Albany, Earl of Ulster.
Lord Jersey’s delusion of being saved evaporated as the unambiguous letter from the Prince dropped to his desk.
He felt a burning pain in his left arm, followed by a massive and excruciating pain in his chest. He pitched forward, his head bouncing on his desk before he fell to the floor.
His eyes were unseeing even before his head hit the floor of his study.
For some moments, Lady Jersey sat motionless.
Her husband was not moving at all, and it took her a little while before she summoned the strength to call out.
The footman on duty outside the study looked in.
Seeing the master lying prostrate on the floor, he made haste to summon the butler and housekeeper.
Before making for the study, the butler sent the footman to request the local physician come to Broadhurst with all speed.
Lady Sarah knew she should feel sadness at her husband’s death, but she could not. She felt a wave of relief knowing he would never control her again. Her husband’s cruelty had cost her so much—far too much.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
There was insistent knocking at Darcy House later that afternoon. Mr. Killion showed Wes into the drawing room where the Bennets, Darcys, and the Prince were seated. No one missed the look of anguish on young De Melville’s face.