Woman of Influence (Pemberley Chronicles)

by Rebecca Ann Collins

  "And you say she does not receive any income apart from the rents?"

  "No she does not, because many years ago, she transferred all her assets to William to enable him to establish himself in his career," said Cassy.

  "And now that William is doing so well, does he not assist his mother?"

  Cassy and Elizabeth looked doubtful.

  "We do not know if he does or does not, because Emily will not tell us, but there is little evidence that he sends her any money at all."

  This revelation so perturbed Becky she rose hastily from her seat and walked quickly about the room, clearly distressed. In truth, she was thinking, playing with the possibility of making some money available to Emily, through Jessica perhaps, so as not to place her under obligation. She acknowledged it was a delicate situation indeed.

  When she returned to join Elizabeth and Cassandra, she had the beginnings of a plan in mind. She would give Jessica a sum of money, with instructions that it be used to pay for the inevitable expenses that must come after Dr Courtney's funeral. Doubtless, her mother would be more inclined to accept such assistance from Jessica, she supposed.

  "Do you not think so?" she asked, having outlined her plan, and both Elizabeth and her daughter agreed that it may be so.

  They commended Becky's generous impulse, but it was Cassy who suggested that Jessica in her present condition would be unlikely to become involved, for purely practical reasons.

  "With her child due within the next few days, Jessica's ability to assist her mother might be limited, she certainly cannot travel to Lambton," she explained. "Would it not be better to ask my son Darcy, who regularly visits his aunt Emily and may well be able to persuade her to accept the money? There is no doubt at all that she will need it."

  "And would I be able to meet Mr Darcy Gardiner tomorrow?" asked Becky, knowing time was short. She had plans to return to Kent not long afterwards.

  "Certainly," Cassy replied, "I shall send word to him and ask him to call on you here during the day."

  "And will he agree to help, do you think?" Becky asked.

  Cassandra was certain her son would be willing, but added a word of caution.

  "Darcy is scrupulously honest and may feel he has to reveal to Emily the source of the money," then seeing the anxiety upon Becky's face, added, "but that will not matter a great deal if she will accept it and use it to pay her bills. I am confident Darcy will be happy to help; he is well aware of Emily's financial difficulties and has helped her on previous occasions.

  "If anyone can persuade her to accept it, Darcy can."

  The gentlemen entered the room, and the conversation changed to matters they had been discussing over port. Richard and Julian had almost succeeded in convincing Mr Darcy of the need to have the history of the Pemberley estate recorded for posterity.

  "There is so much material scattered around the place, in the library, at the parish church, in diaries, notebooks, and personal letters and documents, which must be of great interest, yet no one has attempted to put it together for the future," said Julian, appealing to the ladies to use their persuasive powers to convince Mr Darcy it was a worthy and important task.

  Richard Gardiner agreed. "It is absolutely imperative that the story of this great estate and its people should be documented," he declared, and Becky was happy to lend them her support, while Elizabeth rang the bell to order more coffee.

  But all was forgotten when Jessica's maid appeared, breathless from having run all the way to say in an anguished voice, "Mrs Darcy, ma'am, it's Miss Jessica—I beg pardon, I mean Mrs Julian Darcy, ma'am, she says we must get the doctor at once—it's the baby, ma'am."

  Everyone turned to Doctor Gardiner while Julian ran out of the room and up the stairs in seconds.

  Cassandra had rushed to her husband's side, and he followed Julian immediately, giving instructions to the maid as he went.

  Cassy went with him; she wanted to be with her young sister-in-law and brother at this moment, while Becky, Elizabeth, and Mr Darcy were left looking anxiously at one another, knowing there was little they could do but wait.

  On the morrow, Becky wrote to her sister Catherine:

  The birth of Julian and Jessica's daughter in the small hours of this morning, only days after the funeral of Reverend Courtney, has helped lift the melancholy mood that had descended over Pemberley and has given everyone a new and happier subject for conversation.

  She is to be named Marianne, which is a pretty name and even better, one that has especially pleased Mr Darcy, because it includes within it his mother's name, Anne.

  Lizzie is ecstatic, as might be expected; there has not been a child

  born at Pemberley since my dear grandson Anthony, who I must say is growing into a very fine lad indeed. Cassy has spared no effort in her care of the boy.

  Meanwhile, Jessica and Julian seem truly devoted to one another and I wish them every happiness in the future. It is an indication of Julian's contentment that he appears not to miss his scientific work at all, while he spends a great deal of his time around his wife and new baby daughter. My business here is concluded, Cathy, and I hope to be back in Kent before the end of the week. Much as I have enjoyed these days at Pemberley, I do so look forward to returning home and taking up all those matters I left behind at Edgewater.

  Having despatched her letter to the post, she went downstairs to meet Darcy Gardiner, who had called to see her as arranged. She found him not only agreeable but enthusiastic about assisting his aunt Emily Courtney and was delighted to discover that he had no qualms at all about taking the money to Emily and urging her to use it for all those bills, which he knew she would have to pay with her quite meagre resources.

  "It is very kind of you, Mrs Tate, and I should be honoured to be your intermediary in this matter," he said, delighting Becky with that combination of charm and responsibility for which young Darcy Gardiner was widely known and loved.

  "I know my aunt Emily needs help, and yet she will not ask and is reluctant to accept it from my grandfather Mr Darcy, because she feels he and Mrs Darcy have helped her too often. She is quite determined to struggle on alone, yet it is an unequal struggle, and she must have help. I feel sure I can persuade her to accept yours on this occasion.

  "She has always spoken well of you and my wife, Kate, and I know that she regards you with great affection. I am confident she will not feel any degree of mortification in accepting your offer."

  For Becky, his assurance was a source of great satisfaction.

  It was with a much happier heart that she thanked young Darcy Gardiner, his wife, Kate, and her generous host and hostess, as she bid farewell to Pemberley and returned home to Kent.

  Chapter Five

  Throughout the long journey, as the train carried her away from Derbyshire and back to her new home, Becky's sense of satisfaction in her present situation grew considerably.

  Having endured, for however short a period, the indignity of being an unwelcome guest in her son's home, she was determined she would never again be so affronted. The purchase of Edgewater had given her the sense of security that she was sure her late husband had wanted her to have. Why else would he have agreed to transfer the title for the house in London to her and allow her the freedom to sell it if she chose to do so?

  She smiled to herself as she recalled the dismay of her son Walter and his wife upon discovering that they would no longer have the convenience of a house in one of the best streets in London, maintained and paid for by someone else.

  "But, Mother," Walter had protested, "surely there is no need to sell the place," and when she had quite justifiably asked, "How else would I acquire a home, a place of my own, Walter?" he had replied rather glibly, "You don't need a place of your own, Mother, you could live with us. Papa indicated in his will that if you chose to do so, we should accommodate your wishes. That way, we could all use the house in London."

  Becky had laughed then, much to Walter's discomfort.

  "I cannot
believe that your father ever thought I would adopt that suggestion, which he was kind enough to put in his will. He was probably trying to remind you that the house in Matlock, which I agreed to relinquish to you, had been our home for almost thirty years; perhaps he hoped you would understand that it meant something to me."

  "Do you not wish to live there anymore? We could come to a convenient arrangement, Pauline would have no objection I am sure," he had said rather lamely, but Becky had been adamant.

  "No, Walter, I do not wish to enter into any such arrangement; you and your wife need have no fears that I will arrive on your doorstep and demand that you accommodate me for the rest of my life! I cannot imagine anything worse, for all of us. No, for several very good reasons, I must have my own place, and to that end, I shall sell the house in London and use the proceeds to acquire one elsewhere."

  Becky recalled that Walter had been distraught.

  "Pauline will be most upset; she had her heart set on spending some part of the season in town each year," he had said plaintively, and Becky had shrugged her shoulders gently and replied, "I am sorry to disappoint your wife, Walter, and I am confident you will find a way to comfort her. But you are both very welcome to come and visit me when I am settled into my place in Kent."

  "In Kent?" Walter had exclaimed, as though she had named the Outer Hebrides as her chosen place of residence. Perhaps he had hoped she would choose to settle a little closer to London—in Richmond maybe, where he and his wife might still stay conveniently and inexpensively when in town. But not Kent! That would have been most inconvenient. Pauline would have been very vexed indeed.

  But she had enjoyed telling him that she had already decided to purchase the picturesque property of Edgewater on the outskirts of the village of Hunsford, some two miles from Rosings Park and many miles from the noise and bustle of London.

  "Why ever not?" she had argued. "It is without doubt one of the most salubrious and civilised counties in England, and besides, I shall be within walking distance of my sister Mrs Burnett. No, Walter, do not waste your breath, my mind is quite made up."

  Walter Tate had not looked very pleased at all.

  Becky had thought at the time that he must not have looked forward to telling his stylish wife Pauline that they would no longer have the use of a fine London residence for the season every year.

  Now, as the train sped through the Kentish countryside, which she was coming to love, Becky savoured the memory of his disgruntled expression, even as she looked forward to returning to her home, confident in the knowledge that it was a good deal more elegant and comfortable than anything Walter and Pauline had to offer at the old Tate place in Matlock.

  Above all, it was her very own.

  ***

  Back at Edgewater, Becky found to her relief that everything had proceeded as she had hoped, by which she meant that nothing of any real consequence had happened at all. Mrs Bates reported no problems.

  The girl Alice (or Annabel) Grey had settled in and was continuing with her work satisfactorily; her son, Tom, was quieter and more amenable, often playing on his own, no longer clinging to his mother's skirts.

  Becky could not have been more pleased.

  Then, to her greater satisfaction, she found waiting for her a substantial communication from Jonathan Bingley.

  Having extracted it from the bundle of mail on her desk, she retreated to her bedroom, ostensibly to rest awhile, but in truth, keen to discover what information it contained.

  Opening the bulky packet, she found within it two letters, one from Jonathan Bingley to herself and the other some pages of carefully written notes, sent to Jonathan by his son-in-law, Mr Colin Elliott, MP.

  Jonathan's letter was brief and to the point. He wrote:

  Dear Becky,

  I trust this finds you at home after a safe journey from Derbyshire.

  With regard to the matter of Annabel (or Alice) Grey and her husband William Rickman, my son-in-law Mr Elliott has made some enquiries and through his contact at the Home Office has discovered some facts that may be of interest to you. I enclose his notes, which contain several useful details that may assist you in your quest for the truth in this matter. I certainly hope it will help the young woman and her son discover the fate of William Rickman.

  Should you wish to contact Mr Elliott regarding any of the material in his notes, please feel free to write to him at his office in Whitehall. He assures me he will be happy to answer any of your questions, if he is able to do so.

  Jonathan concluded with felicitations and good wishes to her, her sister Catherine, and Catherine's husband, Frank Burnett.

  Turning to Colin Elliott's notes, Becky read them eagerly.

  They comprised a number of paragraphs in which he outlined some of the information he had gleaned from his contacts in the Home Office. It revealed that a William Rickman had indeed been tried for stealing from his employer, a brewer, and reselling the loot to a publican. Information had been laid, and Rickman had been arrested, tried, and sent to prison.

  Initially, he had been sentenced to be transported to Australia, but too late it seemed, for the government had just decided that convicts would no longer be sent twelve thousand miles across the world, but would be held on prison hulks off the coast or incarcerated in remote jails on the moors. Out of sight and out of mind was what the authorities desired, and to that end Dartmoor would serve as well as Port Arthur. Becky read quickly, trying to discover what had happened to Rickman, but could find nothing significant. She was keen also to identify the brewer Rickman had worked for as well as the informer who had accused him, but found no clues as to their identities in Mr Elliott's notes. Colin Elliott had hinted that he might be able to get further information if he had access to some detail of names and dates to which the girl alone would be privy, and promised to maintain an interest in the case.

  Becky suspected, because the girl had been unwilling to reveal anything at all, that there was more to the matter than met the eye.

  She determined to speak with Catherine first and try to persuade Annabel Grey, in her own interest, to tell her more, chiefly in order that they may attempt to discover the whereabouts of her husband and Tom's father. She hoped it would provide the girl with a motive strong enough to overcome her reluctance to name persons of whom she was very afraid.

  Despite the fact that she was rather weary from her journey and should have enjoyed a bath and rest before dinner, Becky decided to call on her sister and show her the information she had received. Catherine had a capacity for clear thinking that Becky had previously relied upon, and she wished to sound her out about a plan she was developing in her mind.

  When she set out alone and on foot, she did not immediately realise that she had not alerted anyone to the fact that she was going to visit her sister. Her mind concentrated upon her plan, and anxious to convince Catherine of its practicality, she had almost reached the boundary of Rosings Park when she saw, wandering through the trees, a woman, who on her approaching closer, turned out to be none other than Alice Grey.

  Seeing Becky, she stopped in her tracks then approached with an expression that betrayed her astonishment. Clearly she had not expected Becky to be walking in the woods at this hour, and Becky made no secret of her own surprise at seeing her there.

  "Alice! What are you doing here at this time of day?" she asked, and the girl, having initially looked rather sheepish, answered that she had been trying to rid herself of a headache by walking out in the fresh air.

  "My head ached from working indoors all day, ma'am, and I thought the fresh air would clear it. The woods in these parts are very beautiful."

  Becky agreed and, while she did not say it, wondered why the girl was this far out—there was similar woodland aplenty around the grounds of Edgewater.

  "Does Mrs Bates know you are here? And Tom? Will he not fret if he finds you missing from the house?"

  Alice's answer was plausible enough.

  "I did tell Mrs Bates I
was going out, ma'am, and Tom is asleep in our room. I wasn't going to be long, ma'am; I was just on my way back to the house."

  Becky was not inclined to press the issue. Instead, she took the opportunity to send a message to Mrs Bates herself, ensuring thereby that Alice would have to return to the house promptly.

  "All right then, but do have a care, Alice. When you return to the house, please tell Mrs Bates that I have gone to visit Mrs Burnett at the Dower House and expect to be back in time for dinner." Indicating the overcast sky, she added, "If it rains, she should send the carriage for me at seven. Now, do not delay; I am not happy that you should be in the woods alone at this hour. It may not be safe."

  Alice nodded and looked relieved, "Yes, ma'am, I will return to the house at once, ma'am," she said and turned to go.