Page 77 of A Life Diverted
Once the three were ensconced within, the Prince refused refreshment, impatient to know the reason for the urgent request he attend the Bennets at Netherfield. He was not surprised to have surmised that his generous Cilla would have bequeathed the estate to the Bennets.
“I am about to give you a letter from Priscilla written before she died. She wanted it to wait for another thirteen years, but when I found out the facts of the matter the day I posted my letter to you, I decided you must be made aware of the facts now,” Bennet stated as he handed the confused prince a letter from his late former wife.
For a while, the Prince simply held the letter, staring at the penmanship which could be none other than written in his late wife’s hand, trying to feel her presence. When he felt ready, he broke the seal and started to read.
27 February 1790
Netherfield Park
My one and only, Frederick,
Let me open this letter by telling you how ardently I love you, and that even in death it will never change.
If you are reading this, Frederick, then the worst has happened, and I am no longer living in this world without you.
Know that when God brings you home to His kingdom, I will be waiting to be reunited with you.
If you are being handed this letter, then our daughter, Elizabeth Sarah , is now eighteen.
Yes, we have a child. Before you become angry with the Bennets, I ask you in the name of the infinite love we shared to listen to my reasons.
I am confident that you will agree with my decision once I give you my reasoning.
“I have a daughter?” The Prince asked wondrously, returning to his reading when they both nodded that he did.
The reason my sister Fanny will not have contacted you about your daughter before she is eighteen is that I intend that Fanny vow to me she will honour my wishes for the following reasons: First, you told me how you and your brothers and sisters were raised, and second, how many times did we comment that Fanny and Thomas were the best of parents?
Do you remember, my love, how you told me how lonely your upbringing was—placed in a country house with nursemaids, governesses, and tutors, seeing your parents only once in a great while?
You told me how your parents were almost strangers to you until you were older and could be used for their advantage?
Is that what you want for our Elizabeth ?
Do you want her to grow up not knowing a parent’s love?
I can hear you, Freddy, you are saying you would love her , but if you are honest, you also know as soon as she is known to your parents it will be out of your hands. We made a pledge, one to the other, do you remember, my love?
“Yes, I remember Cilla, I remember,” the prince said aloud, tears trailing down his cheeks. He was not ashamed of his emotional display, for the Bennets had loved his wife too; he knew that if any would understand it would be them.
You know in your heart that Fanny and Thomas will raise our child with love, compassion, and caring, and that she will have a real chance to be the best version of herself possible.
If, as I suspect she may, Fanny tells Thomas about our child before she is eighteen, I know Thomas will do his duty to inform you, and I beg you, Freddy, allow Elizabeth to remain with the Bennets. Work out a way to be part of her life without anyone else knowing you are her father.
In case you are wondering why Fanny’s script appears in places, it is because I will ask her to fill in certain words if I am unable to myself.
I ask this in the name of all that is holy and the love we shared, the love I hope we still share.
Yours in this life and forevermore,
Cilla
The Prince read the letter over twice more before he was willing to speak. “Like you, Fanny, I made Cilla a promise, and I will not break it now. Elizabeth will remain with you. Is your brother Phillips available?” the Prince asked.
“He is, York; I will have him summoned for you,” Bennet stated. He stood and called the nearest footman in the hall, dispatching him to summon Mr. Phillips.
“If you assumed the house is ours, it is not…” Fanny went on to explain all about Priscilla’s will. She also explained to the Prince that it was her son who lay in eternal slumber next to Priscilla.
“It is as it should be. The only difference is that when she is older and whether she allows me to acknowledge her or not, she will be my heir,” the Prince informed the Bennets.
“I see some very large footmen in your employ, Bennet; would you allow me to supplement them with some of the royal guard, who will be incognito as footmen, coachmen, and outriders? Also, I would like to place a doctor at Netherfield who will go wherever my daughter does.”
“Of course. We will accept whatever you feel is needed to protect your daughter. I assume you would like to meet our children; it has been many years since you saw our Jane,” Bennet suggested with a twinkle in his eye.
“How will I know…I am guessing I will know her when I see her. I assume she has some of my Cilla in her?” the prince asked. “Before we go, do the De Melvilles know about Elizabeth, or even about Priscilla’s death?
“No, they do not. While I have bent a few of Cilla’s wishes, I will follow them exactly in this matter, and tell them their daughter died only if and when they contact me.
Otherwise, they will receive a letter when Elizabeth is eighteen or if we feel we need to inform her before that age,” Fanny stated flatly, unwilling to be moved in this, as she had never forgiven them for disowning their daughter when Cilla needed them most. “Let us repair to the west drawing room; the three oldest girls will be there waiting for us.” Now that she knew the Prince would not remove his daughter and intended to honour Priscilla’s wishes, Fanny felt as if a millstone had been lifted from her shoulders.
The moment the Prince walked into the drawing room and three inquisitive girls looked up at him, he knew, for he was staring into his Cilla’s eyes.
Not only that, but his daughter looked like a miniature version of his beloved, based on a miniature of her as a young girl he always kept on his person.
She had Cilla’s complexion and her mahogany curls, which Frederick had so loved winding around his finger.
She seemed to have her mother’s looks; to Frederic, she was the prettiest little girl he had ever beheld.
He believed she would break many hearts when she was older and thought he might have to assign an entire regiment of royal guards to protect her once she came out into society.
“Jane, Lizzy, and Mary, you remember all of the stories I told you about your Aunt Cilla who gifted us this house?” All three nodded vigorously. “This is Uncle Frederick; he was Aunt Cilla’s husband.”
“Uncle Frederick is a big mouthful is it not?” the Prince asked the three sisters as he sat near them.
“Uncle,” Jane exclaimed as she ran to him and accepted a hug. “I have missed you.”
“And I you. You are even more beautiful than I remember,” the Prince stated as Jane beamed with pleasure.
“It is, Uncle Fred-rick,” Mary responded seriously.
“Well, in that case you may call me what Aunt Cilla used to, I will be Uncle Freddy,” the Prince told the girls, who agreed it was a much easier name to say.
“Would you like to accompany us to the music room, Frederick, to hear Jane and Lizzy play?” Fanny asked. “Yes, they can play—quite well,” Fanny told the Prince after seeing his quizzical look.
When Jane played the pianoforte followed by his daughter, he thought he was dreaming. They played better than most debutantes he had heard. If that were not enough, the two played a duet with Jane on the harp.
Frederick remained for the midday meal, and before he left, he met with the Bennet parents and Phillips, who had just arrived, in the study.
Now that the girls accepted he was another uncle, the Prince agreed it was the role he would fill and that he would visit when his duties allowed and was convenient for the Bennets.
He went over the legal protections for his daughter’s inheritance with Phillips and signed a document placing custody of his daughter with the Bennets.
Once he was satisfied with all that had been done, he returned to where the Bennet daughters were.
When Frederik departed Netherfield Park that day, there was a new spring in his step.
For some reason the Ton would not comprehend, his days of being a rake were behind him.
There was no more excessive drinking, carousing, gambling, or even a hint of foolishness.
Furthermore, no one could fathom what had changed to lift the veil of sadness which had descended on the Prince since his forced divorce, but all agreed it could not but bode well for the country.