Memory: Volume 3, How Far We Have Come, A Tale of Pride and Prejudice (Memory: A Tale of Pride and Prejudice)

by Wells, Linda

  “Shhh.” Robinson urged her and looked to the maid. “When did this begin?”

  “She was feeling sick just before dinner, sir, and then during the night she rang for me. It became worse as time passed.” Leaning forward she whispered, “Mrs. Moore thought it might be a miscarriage, but she has never seen an early one be so violently painful.”

  “Mandy.” Mrs. Moore appeared in the doorway and she jumped. “Go and gather the cloths for Mrs. Robinson.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Moore.” She left the room and the housekeeper approached the master. “I am sorry sir, she spoke out of turn.”

  Robinson had taken Caroline’s hand in his and was rubbing it. “A miscarriage, are you sure?”

  “I believe so, sir.” She said stiffly, not wishing to explain her suspicions to him.

  Watching her, he spoke slowly. “I did not witness my wife’s laying in, but I remember that it was very painful and difficult for her.”

  “Delivering a fully formed baby is a different business from a miscarriage, sir; it should not be this bad. That is why I took the liberty of summoning the doctor. He should be here soon, he is not far away.” Caroline moaned and Robinson turned his attention back to her. “I am afraid there is nothing to be done but let nature have its way, sir.”

  “I understand; I will sit with her until the doctor comes.” He glanced at the woman and could see that she was keeping something from him. “Then we will talk.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mrs. Moore left the room and closed the door, leaving the couple alone. Caroline gasped and clutched her stomach.

  “Shhhh, it will be fine. It will be fine.” Robinson patted her hand. “Women lose babies every day and come out right as a trivet at the end.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “We will go home to London and Wallace will come back to us. We will start over. Everything will be well again, you will see.”

  “Start over!” She gasped as a cramp gripped her. “As what?”

  “A family.” He looked at her with confusion and let go of her hand. “You and I will be the parents our son needs and hopefully when you recover, we can give him siblings one day.”

  “I want things to go back to the way it was, before that baby ruined everything!” Robinson stared. “He did, he did, look what has become of you! I do not want to be some woman fawning over a baby; and you … you are no longer a man!”

  “Because I confess that I love my son? Because I offer to reconcile with you?” Stunned by her anger, he stood and lashed out. “I was obviously not man enough for you before he was born was I? I was not enough of a man for you in our circle; you had to go selling yourself to satisfy your craving to be at the top!”

  “I never sold myself!” She cried.

  Robinson walked to the other end of the room. “Lord Creary thought of you as a prostitute.” Her eyes opened wide with surprise. “Yes, I spoke to him. I saw him at a cockfight, bragging about the pregnant wife of a tradesman he had bedded and laughing about how thrilled she was to tend to the needs of a peer. It seems that his behaviour amongst his circle had finally been enough to lose him their favour, so he was looking to the social climbers to satisfy his appetites. I heard his description of the woman and knew it was you.” He spoke with disgust. “I bought him a drink and encouraged his talk, and he was only too glad to describe your encounters in great detail to an appreciative audience. Great detail.” Caroline gasped. “Thank God you did not use my surname.”

  “I was trying to get both of us invited to …”

  Robinson interrupted her. “I do not wish to hear more.”

  Cornered, she struck out, “Why did you not say anything? You were afraid of him!”

  “Weakened or not, he is still a peer, I could not take him on and I knew it. You were carrying our child; I would not risk his life by reacting as I wished; nor would I risk his future by challenging Creary to a duel and possibly losing or ending in prison. No, I felt that Creary’s third and final time with you was humiliation enough. He laughed about buttoning his breeches while you complained of your sore jaw as you rose from your knees.” Robinson watched her already flushed face grow a deeper red. “He spoke of leaving some money on the table for you, and saying that a Covent Garden lady had more talent and appeal. Your fury amused him and he then spoke of sending you back to your cuckolded husband.”

  “He said …”

  “I said that I do not wish to hear more.” Robinson watched as another wave of pain gripped her body and she gasped for air. He remained where he was. “I decided that hearing of this was penance for my infidelity.”

  “I never cared about it.” Caroline declared.

  “I know, you cared of social advancement, you never cared for me. I may have wished to improve my position, but I did care for you. Now I see that you think even less of me for changing and wanting to have a family to love. I came here to bring you home, despite all that I knew of you.” When she did not respond, Robinson looked away from her face as the next cramp came and went. “Is this your doing, Caroline?” A knock came and Mrs. Moore ushered in the doctor. Robinson met him at the door.

  “Mr. Robinson, I am Doctor Collier, lucky for you I was nearby delivering Mrs. Clark.” He set down his bag and looked at Caroline as she moaned. “Hmm, miscarriage.”

  “So it seems.”

  “Well I will conduct my examination. You can leave.”

  “I will.” Robinson looked back at Caroline and tried to read her face, but it was hidden in her pillow. The doctor rubbed his hands on his mud splattered and bloodstained coat, then told the maid to move the bedclothes. Robinson closed the door and walked away.

  THE BOOKROOM DOOR FLEW OPEN. “Oh, Mr. Bennet!”

  “What on earth is this all about?” Mr. Bennet sat up and looked at his wife’s heaving breast; her handkerchief was waving at full flutter. “Calm yourself, Mrs. Bennet!”

  “How can I possibly be calm!” She fell into a chair and took several big gulps of air, then sat forward with bright eyes. “I have it on the very best authority that our Jane, our dear Jane is with child!” His eyes widened and she ploughed on. “Imagine my surprise when I went into Meryton this morning to see my sister, and there was Jane, dear Jane, purchasing ginger root!”

  “Ginger root?” He said softly. “And this is your great proof? Our daughter might be cooking, Mrs. Bennet.”

  “Cooking! Nonsense, why would she do such a thing? Mr. Lucas has hired enough servants that Jane need not ever get her hands dirty with the cooking. He has made sure of that!”

  Sighing, Mr. Bennet rubbed his temple, suddenly feeling very much like Darcy. “Have you thought of asking our daughter if this is indeed true before you go spreading the news around the neighbourhood, or is that a foolish question?”

  “I only told my sister.” She sniffed.

  “Who has undoubtedly told the world by now.” Rising from his desk, he looked at his wife. “Come along, Mrs. Bennet.”

  “Where are we going?” She popped up on her feet.

  “As much as I regret this, I think that we must call on our daughter to either congratulate her or nip your enthusiasm in the bud.” Picking up his coat, he shrugged it on. “And Mrs. Bennet, please leave the talking to me?”

  “If I must.” She followed him from the room and out the front door, tying her bonnet ribbons as she walked. “No carriage?”

  “The horses are in the fields, do you not remember walking into Meryton and back?”

  “We really must buy more horses.”

  “No, we must not.” He looked at her sternly. “I pay enough taxes as it is, and I am trying to save money.”

  Striding forward, Mrs. Bennet kept up an unending stream of conversation, which he thankfully could listen to with only half an ear. At last the turn for Lucas Lodge came into view and he stopped walking. “I do the talking.”

  “Very well.” She sighed and they approached the house. Outside they saw Jane sitting with Lydia and Maria, Lady Lucas was just coming outside with a basket full of mendin
g.

  “Good morning, ladies.” He bowed. “Now I know where my remaining child spends her time.”

  “Papa, Mama knew that I came here after we returned from Meryton.” Lydia sighed.

  “Ah, so you were with your mother, well then I would like to ask you about a purchase that she witnessed.”

  “Oh.” Lydia looked at Jane, who closed her eyes.

  “It seems that you, Jane, purchased a ginger root today.”

  “Oh?” Lady Lucas tilted her head. “What are you making?”

  “Tea, it must be tea!” Mrs. Bennet cried and ran forward. “Oh, and look, you have been picking peppermint! Oh, Jane!”

  “What is all this noise?” Sir William appeared with a grin. “I can hardly hear myself think in my study, and I thank you for the interruption. Robert!” He turned and called. “Greet your family!”

  Lucas stepped outside and taking one look at Jane’s pained expression, blew out his cheeks. “Good morning.”

  Mr. Bennet watched his son and knew the answer before the question was asked. “Well as the family is all gathered, I suppose there is nothing for it but to ask Mrs. Bennet’s burning question. Are you with child, Jane?”

  “What!” Lady Lucas spun around to stare at them. “A baby? Why didn’t you tell me!”

  “I … I …” Jane looked at Robert. He shook his head and held up his hand against the cacophony of voices.

  “Stop!”

  His two younger brothers appeared around the corner of the house. “What is happening?” Edward asked.

  “Your sister is with child!” Lady Lucas cried.

  “Oh. About time.” Edward and Benjamin looked at each other and kept walking. Sir William started laughing at their complete indifference and Mr. Bennet joined in.

  “Wait, wait, we have not heard from Jane!” Mrs. Bennet took her hand. “When are you due, dear?”

  “I do not believe any announcement has been made, Mama.”

  Sir William grinned. “Well if there is one to be made, I suggest that you go ahead and do it now before our wives burst.”

  Lucas stood behind Jane’s chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. She lifted a hand up to hold one of his and he bent to her ear. “I am sorry.”

  “It is not your fault.”

  Sighing, he straightened. “We had hoped to keep this news to ourselves for a little longer …”

  “Aha!” Sir William cried.

  “ …but it seems that we have no choice but to …”

  “Ohhhhhhh!” Mrs. Bennet waved her handkerchief.

  “ …announce that at long last, our hopes have been fulfilled and our holiday to London …”

  “To the home of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy in Mayfair …” Mrs. Bennet lifted her chin while Lady Lucas glared at her.

  “ …has given us the …” He looked at Jane helplessly.

  “I am in the family way.” She said softly as they cheered. Lydia rolled her eyes and went to stand by her bouncing mother. “We expect our baby in January.”

  “January!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “Oh how perfect Jane! I had so many babies in August, and it is entirely too hot to have a baby then, January is the perfect time! Of course you would plan it that way! Oh we must tell everyone! I will write to Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. de Bourgh! She should be home from her wedding trip by now, I am sure, and of course you will have your laying in at Longbourn …”

  “Pardon me, Mrs. Bennet, but Jane is a Lucas, her confinement will be in her home.” Lady Lucas declared.

  “Yes, but it is not her home, is it? It is your home; she and Mr. Lucas are just visiting! There is so much more room at Longbourn and much more staff, and of course, a girl wants her mother with her at such a time!” She gushed. “I missed Lizzy’s birthing but I will not miss yours, Jane! I will be with you from the very beginning and I will help you through it all. Oh and Mr. Lucas, you will be just fine waiting in the bookroom with my husband.”

  “I appreciate your consideration, madam, but …”

  “If my son is waiting anywhere, it will be in his father’s study while his wife is upstairs in their chambers!” Lady Lucas exclaimed. “And I will look after my daughter!”

  “Could you both look after me?” Jane said pleadingly.

  “Ladies, Mother, Mrs. Bennet …” Lucas tried to regain control. “QUIET!” He declared, and gripped Jane’s shoulders harder. “We waited to tell you the news for this very reason. Neither of us wants to hear you two,” he looked between the mothers, “arguing over any aspect of Jane’s pregnancy. Do you hear me?”

  “How can you speak to your mother that way?” Lady Lucas sniffed.

  “You should know, you raised him.” Mrs. Bennet declared. Lady Lucas turned to her with fire in her eyes.

  “Oh no.” Maria whispered and looked at Lydia. “What will they do?”

  “I do not know.”

  “ENOUGH!” Mr. Bennet bellowed. “Sir William will you do anything besides laugh?”

  “It is all so amusing!” He grinned and clapped.

  Lucas groaned. “Pemberley, we will go to Pemberley.”

  “Really?” Jane whispered. “But would that be too hard of a trip? They may decide to spend winter in town.”

  “London, then.” He bent to her ear. “Wherever they are, they will keep us both sane.”

  “What is that? What are you saying?” Mrs. Bennet’s head popped up. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere, Mama.” Jane shot a look at Lucas, who nodded. “We just hope that you and Mother …”

  “Mother.” Mrs. Bennet sniffed at Lady Lucas.

  “ … will behave yourselves. I am nervous enough about this and I wish to remain very calm.”

  “And she cannot do that if you two are sniping at each other.” Lucas looked between the women.

  “I say this calls for a treaty.” Mr. Bennet smiled. “Ladies, promise to let Jane gestate in peace.”

  “Mr. Bennet, you are crude!”

  “Now spit on your hands and shake!” Sir William chuckled.

  “William!” Lady Lucas gasped.

  “There you go, Jane, peace will reign for at least a half hour.” Mr. Bennet smiled and bent down to her. “Congratulations, my dear.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” He kissed her cheek. “Please …”

  “I will do my best.”

  “WHAT IS THIS?” Bingley took the black-edged envelope from Mrs. Porter.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Bingley.” She said softly.

  Hurst entered the sitting room with Mr. Porter and they both stopped as Bingley stared at the envelope and finally broke the black wax seal. “Who died?” Hurst asked urgently as Bingley’s eyes widened. “Bingley! Louisa, it is not …”

  “No …” He said quickly, “No, this is from Robinson.” He looked up at him blankly. “Caroline died.”

  “What?” Hurst took the loosely-held letter.

  21 July 1811

  Dear Bingley,

  I am sorry to send you this news, but I must tell you that your sister Caroline has died from complications of miscarriage. She began to suffer pains within hours of my arrival at the estate, and the next morning, she completed the process. Afterwards she developed puerperal fever and following two days of symptoms, died last night. I doubt that she ever felt anything.

  I will bury her at the local churchyard in three days, in case you and Hurst wish to make the journey. I will understand if you cannot.

  Your brother,

  Harris Robinson

  Hurst sat down and looked at the letter. His brow knit at the coldness of the message. “I suppose he is stunned.”

  “What?” Bingley blinked and looked up. Mr. Porter approached to hand him a glass of wine, and then poured another for Hurst.

  “There you go, lad. I think you are stunned yourself.” He gripped his shoulder. “Where is she?”

  “Derbyshire.” Bingley looked at Hurst. “Can we make it?”

  “It is only about ninety miles or so, we can be there late tomorrow if we
leave here soon.” He looked at Mr. Porter who stood and rang the bell. A chambermaid quickly appeared.

  “Please have our guests’ luggage packed and have their carriage readied, they will leave for Derbyshire within the hour.” The servant left the room and he sat down. “Well at least all of our business has been concluded.” Bingley nodded dully and took a gulp of his wine.

  Mrs. Porter was reading the letter. “He will not bury her at the estate.”

  Hurst cleared his throat. “I noticed that.”

  “He calls her your sister, not his wife.” She added softly. “I thought that he had travelled there to improve their marriage.” She looked to Bingley. “I wonder what he learned in the process. I am afraid that Caroline was not of the same mind.”

  “Caroline cared only of her advancement, her shopping, her parties, her jewels.” Bingley looked to Hurst who was nodding. “She had such aspirations.”

  “She was furious that you did not deliver her Darcy’s hand.” Hurst reminded him.

  “Darcy?” Mr. Porter asked.

  “Landowner of huge proportions in Derbyshire, very ancient name, and very happily married to an entirely inappropriate and wonderful choice of bride.” He looked at Bingley. “If he could not rejoice in Mrs. Darcy’s connections, imagine the lamenting he would have felt with Caroline’s?”

  “I think that Caroline herself would have made him lament the marriage far more than her connections.” Bingley sighed.

  “So true, well, I had better write an express to Louisa. I imagine that Robinson wrote to her as well about what happened, I wonder what his plans will be for Wallace.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and stood. “An hour?”

  “Yes.” Bingley stared at his hands.

  “I think that I have some mourning I can let you have.” Mr. Porter followed Hurst out of the door when Bingley looked up.

  “Mourning, that is right. It was a year for Mother and Father, I do not know …”

  “Three months, dear.” Mrs. Porter smiled and came over to hold his hand. “It seems one is always wearing mourning for some relative or another. How are you?”

  “Numb.” He blinked and wiped the tears that pricked his eyes. “I … I never really liked Caroline, we were never close, and but I never wished her … Oh that sounds awful. I tried to do my best for her, but she was so determined to be someone she was not.”