Page 12 of Aunt Felicity

1811

F elicity and Reggie were extremely worried as their coach entered the port of Southampton. A notice telling them that Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had been injured in battle and where to find him, reached Matlock House in early June. Thankfully, it arrived a few days before they were to begin their journey north for the summer.

It had been hard for them to accept it, but Andrew, William, and Bethie had agreed to wait in London. It was pointed out to Andrew that as his wife neared her second lying in, she would not appreciate him being gone for days right then.

Marie had delivered a daughter, named Kathleen Beth, who was called Kathy, and named after her two grandmothers in 1809, just a little more than two years after they had married. The little girl was a great favourite in the family, perhaps especially to her Aunt Bethie. Thanks to that, it had not been hard to have Bethie agree to remain with Marie, Andrew, and Kathy at Hilldale House while her parents travelled to bring Richard home.

William had been harder to convince, but with the upcoming journey to Ramsgate, and pointing out to him that his father would be disappointed if he reneged on travelling with him, William had conceded.

That is what brought the Earl and Countess of Matlock to a large warehouse near the quays in Southampton. They had entered the first one, which they had not known was designated for the regular soldiers. The smell and the way the men were packed in with almost no space between them had overwhelmed them. Before they could start seeking their son, a surgeon directed them to the area designated for the care of the officers.

On entering the space, the Fitzwilliam parents breathed a sigh of relief. It was much more spacious, and there were many more people caring for the officers. There was a smell, but not nearly as pungent as they had experienced at first. When they found Richard among the wounded officers, praise be to Him, his wounds did not look nearly as serious as they had feared. He was sleeping at that moment. A man approached them and introduced himself as one of the surgeons, Mr Shepherd. Reggie introduced himself and his wife.

“I see my son’s left leg is bandaged, what happened to him?” Reggie demanded.

“My Lord and Lady, the Colonel was bayonetted in the leg as he was charging atop his mount. A French infantryman had survived the initial volley and delivered the blow. It did strike one of the bones in his leg. I believe it is, at the very least, fractured. He suffered from a fever on the ship back to England. It broke and since then he has not had another,” Mr Shepherd reported. “He had some drops of laudanum for the pain which is why he sleeps now. I am afraid this injury will more than likely preclude your son from riding into battle again. There is a good chance he will have a limp for the rest of his life.”

“As long as my son survives, I will not object if he never puts his life at risk again! A limp is a small price to pay to have him in the mortal world still,” Felicity stated firmly. “May we move him and take him to London?”

“Aye, my Lady, however, I would recommend you have some boards placed between the benches in your conveyance so the Colonel may be recumbent for the journey,” Mr Shepherd suggested. “Your son will be far more comfortable reclining rather than being seated upright.”

Lord Matlock found a carpenter near the docks and had the man fashion a piece to place between the benches. They were lined with pillows, and Reggie returned to the port where his beloved wife had refused to leave their son’s side.

With the help of the two Matlock footmen, the coachman—Jensen was still the one who drove the carriages in which his master and mistress travelled—Mr Shepherd and himself, they moved Richard into the conveyance, as gently as they were able. He was placed onto the fabricated bench which allowed him to lie flat.

As soon as they mounted and the footmen, the Earl’s valet, the Colonel’s batman—he refused to leave his Colonel—and the coachman took their places, they were off on their way to London.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

As it was close to eighty miles from Southampton to London, and so as to not have Richard jostled too much while they rode, Reggie ordered Jensen to keep to a slower speed, which meant they stayed at inns for two nights.

Richard woke up on the first leg of the journey, and through the fog created by taking the opium-laced drug; it took him some minutes before he understood where he was. Having seen others who had been wounded become addicted to opium, Richard refused any more. At the first stop, the local apothecary was contacted, and he gave them willow bark to turn into a tea. It was bitter, but it did help Richard to a certain extent.

At both inns, Richard was carried up to the suite his parents rented. After his father’s valet and his batman assisted him with his ablutions, Richard slept in a bed for the first time in over a year.

Having sent an express ahead, when they reached Matlock House, Andrew and a large-with-child Marie waited for them along with Bethie. It was explained that the Darcys were on their way to the coast; otherwise, they would have been present as well.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

As much as he would have liked to employ Bethie’s companion, Mrs Annesley, as Anna’s companion, Robert Darcy could not because his niece was as yet unmarried after two seasons.

It was not that she had not garnered interest from men in society. It was quite the opposite, she had many would-be suitors. Who would not be interested in the daughter of an Earl with a dowry of five and twenty thousand pounds? Bethie was determined that unless she found a loving and respectful match like her parents, and similar to what she had been told of her late Aunt Anne’s and Uncle Robert’s marriage, she would not marry at all.

Due to Mrs Annesley not being available, Darcy placed an advertisement in the London papers saying that he was seeking a companion for his almost sixteen year old daughter. He conducted a half dozen interviews, and one stood out to him. She had impeccable characters, so he employed Mrs Karen Younge. Given the names of those giving her the characters, he did not think anyone would use such names without it being true, so he did not verify anything about her with any of the three noble families listed.

William shared that he did not feel easy with Mrs Younge, but Darcy dismissed his son’s concerns as part of the proud and aloof persona William adopted in society.

Hence, when in June of that year Mrs Younge suggested a holiday in Ramsgate, after gaining permission from Felicity and Reggie to use their house, Darcy agreed to the holiday.

In a fortnight he and William would escort Mrs Younge and Anna to the house on Seaview Road and remain with them for about ten days. Afterward, Darcy would travel to Pemberley and William would return to London to be with his friend Bingley, who he was helping to seek an estate to lease. William would return to Ramsgate to help escort his sister and her companion from there to Pemberley.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Bennet stared at the letter in his hand from his heir presumptive. The man had written to him out of the blue. He broke the seal and before he began to read the missive, he had at least two questions. The first one was whether the son had someone write the letter for him like his late father had done. He knew it was uncharitable and unchristian, but Bennet had not felt any sorrow when the notice arrived two years past telling of Clem Collins’s demise. The next question was if this William Collins was literate, did he have any more intelligence than his late sire? Bennet’s eyes drifted to the letter he was sure would provide him entertainment.

27 June 1811

Hunsford Parsonage

Near Westerham in Kent

Across a narrow lane from the great estate of Rosings Park

Already from the direction the man wrote, Bennet could tell this letter would be highly diverting. Who would think to write that his house was near this or that estate? At least the man must be literate. If he resided in a parsonage, he would have had to attend a university, or at the least a seminary. With a sardonic grin on his face, Bennet took up the letter again.

Dear Sir,

The disagreement subsisting between yourself, and my late honoured father always gave me much uneasiness, and since I have had the misfortune to lose him two years past, I have frequently wished to heal the breach. However, until I wrote this letter, I was kept back by my own doubts, fearing lest it might seem disrespectful to his memory for me to be on good terms with anyone with whom it had always pleased him to be at variance.

My saintly mother, Mrs Ophelia Collins, who followed my father to heaven a year later, advised me to seek out my only family. I have decided to heed her words, as well as sage advice from my beneficent patroness, overriding my worries of what my honoured father would think.

Bennet scoffed. “If you think that oaf is in heaven, then you learnt very little before you took orders,” he said aloud in his study. He had not read much, but he could already tell his supposition of finding amusement had been correct.

My mind, however, is now made up on the subject, for having received ordination at Easter, a month ago, I have been so fortunate as to be distinguished by the patronage of the Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh, wise owner of Rosings Park, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, whose bounty and beneficence has preferred me to the valuable rectory of this parish, where it shall be my earnest endeavour to demean myself with grateful respect towards her Ladyship, and be ever ready to perform those rites and ceremonies which are instituted by the Church of England.

Moreover, as a clergyman I feel it my duty to promote and establish the blessing of peace in all families within the reach of my influence; and on these grounds I flatter myself that my present overtures are highly commendable, and that the circumstance of my being next in the entail of Longbourn estate will be kindly overlooked on your side, and not lead you to reject the offered olive-branch.

The man was as big a dullard as his late father and grandfather before him! On the one hand he wrote with a pompous tone while at the same time revealing that he was a sycophant. Bennet would not object to meeting this latest specimen of a Collins.

I cannot be otherwise than concerned at being the means of injuring your amiable daughters, and beg leave to apologise for it, as well as to assure you of my readiness to make them every possible amends, but of this hereafter.

If you should have no objection to receive me into your house, I propose myself the satisfaction of waiting on you and your family, Friday the 8th day of November 1811, by four o’clock, and shall probably trespass on your hospitality ‘til the Saturday sennight following. I would have obliged you with my presence sooner, but my wise patroness did not want me to leave the parish before she has taught me all I need to know.

From the date I listed, I can travel to you without any inconvenience to the great lady. From that time onwards Lady Catherine will not object to my occasional absence on a Sunday, provided that some other clergyman is engaged to do the duty of the day.

I remain, dear sir, with respectful compliments to your lady and daughters, your well-wisher and friend,

William Collins

Never had Bennet seen a letter of this length that once he removed all of the overblown nonsense could have conveyed the points in a paragraph, or two at the most. It seemed that his distant cousin employed ten or more words when one would do just as well.

There was no doubt in Bennet’s mind that Collins aimed to choose a bride from among his daughters. If the man’s love making skills were as inept as Bennet believed they were, there would be infinite entertainment watching the disaster waiting to happen. In addition, he was sure as soon as Fanny became aware of his purpose, all of her vitriol regarding the heir would dissipate. There was no doubt in his mind that she would begin to push their daughters at him from that moment on.

He decided to wait a few weeks, or a month or two, before replying, but reply he would. With more than four months until the date the simpleton had listed as his arrival for his self-invited visit, Bennet had time to respond.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

The Darcys and Mrs Younge arrived at the house in Ramsgate as planned and were met by the Hartlands, the butler and housekeeper who had been employed after the Dodsleys were moved to Snowhaven.

An express telling them that Richard had been brought home, and that he was on the mend arrived a day or two after they reached the house. All three Darcys were greatly relieved that it seemed that Richard would recover. William had been planning to ride back to London right away, but the news allayed his fears, so he decided to remain for the fortnight as had been planned.

It was strange for both Darcy men to be back in the Fitzwilliams’ house. The last time they had been there Anne Darcy had been with them. It was the same reason Darcy had not gone to Seaview House near Brighton as the memories he made in the house with his beloved wife were too thick there.

William suspected a few times that Mrs Younge wished them away, and he did not miss the moue of distaste which flashed across her face when she was told that she was not allowed to command the servants in the house, as they were under the purview of the butler and housekeeper.

Karen Younge could not wait until her first half day off. She made her way to a rather seedy inn where her paramour and partner in this venture had taken a room. She went directly to his room and knocked on the door. She did not wait for an invitation before she entered. She saw the handsome specimen of manhood, George Wickham, on the narrow bed, hands behind his head.

“Well, how do we proceed?” Wickham asked.

“Our employer will not be well pleased. We will not be able to have you call on the house, the damned butler and housekeeper are in command there, and they will not allow you to seduce the girl under their noses,” Mrs Younge complained.

“It was already hard. Thanks to those bastards breaking with me, the girl does not know me at all. How am I to work on her, and now not even in the comfort of the house?” Wickham whinged. “At least that bugger, Richard Fitzwilliam, has been injured. If he got wind of what we are up to…” Wickham stopped as he got a cold shiver in his spine as if someone was walking on his grave.

“You do not have to fear him. From what I have gleaned it will be many months before he is able to seek you out. By then, we will have succeeded, given the employer what is needed, and be on the way to the new world with the money we have been promised.” Karen Younge had a feral smile. “Do you think we will be able to get more money from the Darcys to purchase our silence?”

“As long as they think we will tell no others, it is a good possibility,” Wickham opined. “I owe them after two years in that hellish school. I am not sorry my father is dead after he stood by and allowed me to be sent there. Even with this new obstacle, I will do whatever I need to so that I may take my revenge on the damned Darcys.”

The two lovers had a roll in the bed, and then spoke of their plans to achieve what had been ordered for them to do.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Each day that went by, Richard began to feel better. He was surrounded by a loving family who would do anything to assist him. His batman, Williams, refused to leave his side. Even when Richard told him he would be resigning from the army thanks to his injuries, the tenacious man simply decided that he too would leave the army.

Having to resign had been a bitter pill for Richard to swallow. However, he accepted that without the ability to grip his horse’s flanks with his legs while he wielded a sabre or pistol, there was no alternative because he was not cut out to sit at a desk in headquarters. He was very proud he had risen through the ranks from second lieutenant to full colonel, all on merit. He accepted it was time to claim the house in Ramsgate as his own and the fortune attached to it. Thanks to his parents adding to it plus the fact the funds were invested with one Edward Gardiner, he would have an income close to three thousand pounds per annum.

There was no shortage of those to fuss over him. After the first day, Marie had remained at Hilldale House as it had become too difficult for her to move about too far. Andrew came to see his brother daily, and returned to his enceinte wife and his daughter. Bethie, like his parents, spent most of the day at his bedside.

He was looking forward to Uncle Robert’s and William’s return from Ramsgate. However, as much as he liked his uncle, it was his cousin and surrogate brother he wanted to see the most.