Page 35 of The Last House in Lambton (Pride and Prejudice Variations #6)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

W ith effort, I sat on the events of the day and affected the bland agreeability common to those who have been very sweetly vindicated.

I could not tell anyone of my validation, but the manner in which my uncle was shown what I had endured was so righteous and, at the same time, so ludicrous, I thought I might burst out laughing.

If only I could tell Mr Darcy, who knew what that house was—but I could not.

Besides, he might not think Mrs Edmonton as amusing as I did, and if he heard about the gruel, he would have bluntly advised me to send the cook packing.

Only my father would have appreciated this story, and to such a degree, he would have had me tell it four or five different ways for his entertainment.

Oh, I do miss my family , I thought mournfully, but I wished I was not obliged to go just yet.

The following day broke fine, and though cold, the sunlight rendered everything crisp and clear.

Frost crystals shone bright as diamonds and the sky deepened into a shade of violet.

I stared out in wonder at this scene, and when Georgiana came in, we commiserated on what a rare sight it was, settling on a mad idea to take Mrs Jennings for an outing.

A footman produced a bath chair from somewhere, an army of maids brought out shawls and rugs, and in no time, we had Mrs Jennings humming pleasantly in her nest of wool as we wheeled her down to the lake.

Mr Darcy, hearing of our expedition, sent the kennel master with the small pup to go along—as though we did not have enough to do. I was told the master wished the dog to become used to accompanying ladies on walks, for he hoped to sell her to Lord Masterson for his eldest daughter’s entertainment.

There was nothing for it but to carry the thing, since she had no sense to walk in a straight line and was at risk of being trampled by the footman who pushed Auntie’s chair.

She seemed to think this her rightful place and looked about her with entitled interest, royally entertained and warmly wrapped in the tail end of my shawl.

From time to time, she licked my chin encouragingly, causing me to murmur to her that I would not fall prey to such gross manipulation, but, in fact, I was fast becoming her devoted slave.

The air and the exercise went far to lessening my blighted feelings.

Mr Gardiner was closeted with Mr Darcy that morning, likely hashing out what was to be done, and I took a large breath of cold air.

I realised that no matter the verdict, which must include my return home, nature would go far to reconciling me to my circumstances and repairing my disordered feelings.

And though part of me entertained an image of myself, once bright and charming, dwindled into unremarkable spinsterhood, I dismissed this as an inherited tendency towards hysteria.

I inwardly chuckled that next, I would see myself living in a sod hut and subsisting on turnips.

Upon returning to the house, Georgiana was asked to seek out her brother.

It fell to me to get Mrs Jennings situated, and I would not have managed had I not had the help of Pemberley’s plentiful and constantly willing servants.

Auntie’s nose was cold, she was sleepy, and content to lie down after such a variation in her routine.

I freshened up my coiffure, dabbed a little scent behind one ear, and went in search of my uncle.

He was not in a forthcoming mood, and I was too reluctant to hear how quickly I must pack to press him.

We had tea and a selection of cheeses and hot house fruits, and talked of the weather, and of his children.

I then subsided into needlework and he into a periodical, until such time as Georgiana joined us.

Mr Gardiner then made a show of thinking he had something better to read in his room and left us. Georgiana looked fit to burst with news, and this, coupled with my uncle’s strange manners, led me to suspect that something was afoot.

I was not left to wonder very long. In half an hour my uncle returned, and it was Georgiana’s turn to think of something she had to do elsewhere.

We were left alone, and in so pointed a fashion, I was justified in my exasperation. “Well, sir? What is it to be?”

“We have settled it that Mrs Jennings will stay at Pemberley for now. It is Mr Darcy’s opinion, and I cannot but agree, that to take her on an extended and uncomfortable journey would rid her of the will to live.

At the very least, she might be made ill, and the prospect of managing her confusion, even with the help he would extend to us with maids and the like, has convinced me that you would be rendered exhausted and ill yourself. ”

“Did he say so?” I asked in irritation. “I am not so fragile that I cannot?—”

“I do not believe you are in a position to get on your high ropes about anything, miss,” he said tartly. “I do not like anything I have agreed to do, and I will thank you not to make me defend myself.”

“Yes sir. ”

“I objected to the idea that he must take it upon himself to care for our relation, or that, God forbid, they feel constraint when wishing to leave for town and that they must linger for her sake. We settled it that I would employ the day maid—Ruth, I believe is her name—to be Mrs Jennings’s principal support. ”

“Oh, she is very kind to Auntie.”

“And Mrs Reynolds is always here and will see that no neglect or failure of care renders her worse than she is. Her pension will fund her needs sufficiently. I do not believe it a permanent solution, but for now it must do.”

“And the house?” I hardly dared to ask, but I had a great deal of history with the place, almost a morbid fascination.

“Mr Darcy has suggested, and again, I am forced to agree, that it would make a suitable boarding house.”

“A boarding house?” I cried in surprise.

“There is insufficient lodging in Lambton for the clerks and underlings that come and go with mining interests.”

It was a brilliant notion in actuality, and I felt a touch of envy that it had not first occurred to me.

“The servants?”

“I shall meet the housekeeper to determine if she is fit to run such a place.”

“You will need a much better cook, or you will not keep your lodgers for very long.”

He looked over his spectacles at me and purred, “I will thank you to consider me competent enough to run a business.”

I sank into miserable embarrassment and bit my tongue.

There was much I wished to ask, but I did not dare, particularly since my uncle seemed to be chewing on his own tongue in order to refrain from pointing out—again—that were it not for me, he would not be forced to partake of this imperfect plan.

After a few moments of tense constraint, he said, “When is—what is the housekeeper’s name? ”

“Mrs Burke. She is set to come back on the first day in March.”

Mr Gardiner harrumphed. This was still two weeks away, and I saw him struggle to decide whether he should take me to Hertfordshire meanwhile and then return to settle everything once and for all, or be sentenced to a prolongation of his dependence on Mr Darcy’s hospitality.

By the end of our meeting, he had made no clear decision.

The following day he planned to go to Lambton and then to Derby, to speak to the banker charged with the distribution of Mrs Jennings’s funds and to engage a solicitor to set in motion a writ of guardianship so that he could act on her behalf.

He charged me with whatever small details were required to settle Auntie permanently in her new situation, to engage the day maid on his behalf, and to otherwise make myself useful, without, he added drily, ‘plunging us any further into anyone’s debt’.