Becky smiled.
"You are very kind, Emma. Yes, I am very happy with Edgewater, and you must visit me there soon, but it is a modest place, nothing when compared to the splendid estate you have here."
While Emma agreed that Standish Park was a beautiful estate, she was quick to point out that it was her husband's family property, refraining modestly from any boastful display, even as she acknowledged Becky's appreciation.
Happy that Emma had not resented her visit, Becky proceeded directly to
its main purpose. But once again, she felt the need to ask for her forbearance, as she began her story, promising that while it may seem a long and complicated tale, all would soon be explained.
Through the afternoon, Emma listened quietly as Becky narrated the facts as she knew or had discovered them concerning the girl Alice Grey, her husband William Rickman, and their son Thomas.
She seemed shocked at some of the incidents and yet unsurprised by much of what Becky revealed. Emma Wilson had seen several instances of exploitation and betrayal before, and in her charitable activities had helped many young women like Alice Grey find work or homes for their children.
However, when Becky mentioned for the first time Mrs Bancroft and the manor house at Blessington, Emma sat up, alert and eager for information.
"Mrs Bancroft, how is she involved?"
Becky, whose intention in coming to Standish Park had been mainly to discover something of the background of the Bancrofts, was happy to oblige with a brief summary of Mrs Bancroft's connection with Alice Grey, including some detail of the persecution of the girl by one Mr Danby and her timely rescue from the workhouse by Mrs Bancroft.
She then asked, "Are you well acquainted with the Bancrofts, Emma?"
Emma's reply surprised Becky.
"No, not very well acquainted at all; indeed I have never met Mr Bancroft, but Mrs Bancroft has occasionally worked with my group of ladies, who have tried to help abandoned young women and their children.
"Some are left in dire circumstances, rejected by their families and ostracised by the communities in which they live, which is why I am not entirely surprised by your story. However, the matter of the girl's husband being convicted as a result of false testimony is new to me. I am shocked that the magistrate would have permitted such a thing to happen. Tell me, Becky, did you learn of this from Mrs Bancroft herself?"
"Indeed no; I am not at liberty to divulge the source of my information, but I can say it was certainly not Mrs Bancroft. But why do you ask, Emma?"
Becky was curious, and Emma's reply inflamed that curiosity to a much higher degree.
"Because," said Emma quietly, "the magistrate for the district which includes Blessington is Mr Bancroft. I may be wrong, but I don't think I am. James would certainly be able to confirm this when he returns this evening."
The expression of utter shock upon Becky's countenance convinced Emma that her guest knew little or nothing of the Bancrofts. An idea began to form in her mind then that Becky had come to Standish Park to seek information about Mr and Mrs Bancroft.
It was quickly confirmed when Becky said, "Emma, I should have been frank with you at the outset. I wish to help Alice Grey find her husband, who we are led to believe was falsely accused and convicted some years ago in Ramsgate, and to that end, I have approached Mrs Bancroft. Alice tells me Mrs Bancroft rescued her from the workhouse, gave her work and a place to stay, and then helped her escape the unwelcome advances of a certain Mr Danby, a friend of Mr. Bancroft.
"Mrs Bancroft has invited me to dinner on Saturday week and, in her letter to me, mentioned that she had heard of my work for charity from you. My intention in coming here today was chiefly to ask your advice on how best to deal with the Bancrofts. I had thought that you and Mr Wilson were probably acquainted with them, and I have to admit that I had no inkling at the time that Mr Bancroft was the magistrate for the district.
"Now, once more, let me apologise, Emma, for not revealing my intentions when I wrote, but I am very much in the debt of someone who has obtained this information for me and have promised to use it with the utmost discretion. I am not at liberty to say more."
Becky was very embarrassed, wondering what Emma would say if she knew it was her brother Jonathan Bingley and his son-in-law Colin Elliott who were her informants. Still, she had no other course open to her—she had given them her word. She hoped fervently that Emma Wilson would not persevere with her inquiries.
However, it seemed Emma, having been sufficiently astonished by Becky's revelations, did not seek to discover their source. She asked no more questions on the subject, but as was her wont, seemed more interested in the matter of the girl Alice Grey and the Bancrofts.
Admitting that she had not heard Mrs Bancroft mention the case at all, she said, "I am not entirely surprised, Becky, that Mrs Bancroft should be reserved about a matter that may have involved her husband and one of his friends. I do not wish to speak ill of anyone, but if the truth were known—and you do need to know the truth if you are to deal with them—the Bancrofts, and in particular Mr Bancroft and his friends, are not very well regarded in the community. Mr Bancroft, although he is a magistrate, has been known to indulge in rather riotous behaviour when he is in his cups—which is quite often, I understand, and as for his friends, the less said of them, the better.
"I had not heard of a Mr Danby, James may know of him, but I do know that two others—a notorious gambler called Knowles and a young tearaway from the militia, a Colonel Hackforth—were noted for their outrageous conduct in the town and have been before the court on more than one occasion, with very little consequence.
"They had become accustomed to getting away with it because the magistrate Mr Bancroft would send them off with a rap over the knuckles, but when they came before a judge of the County Court, they were taught a severe lesson and transported to Van Dieman's Land," said Emma with a deep sense of satisfaction.
"Transported to Van Dieman's Land?"
Becky was amazed.
But Emma was quite sanguine.
"Indeed, and I have to say there was not heard a single voice raised in support of them nor anyone who expressed any sympathy for them. Their crimes were so heinous and so frequent that it is said the villagers would lock and bar their houses and barns when they were known to be in the area, to secure their daughters and their livestock."
"And Mr Bancroft tolerated all of this?"
"He did, because they were his friends—Knowles had been at college with him, and Colonel Hackforth was his cousin."
"And Mrs Bancroft? How was she culpable?" Becky asked.
"Oh more by omission than commission, I believe," Emma explained. "She was for many years a rather timid woman, having married her husband when she was quite a young girl. I understand he was handsome and rich when they met, and she, having married him, remained loyal to him. I daresay, Becky, she would not be the first young woman to make such an error," said Emma, whose own life experience would not let her censure Mrs Bancroft or any other young woman for lacking judgment in her youth.
Becky concurred and listened as Emma continued.
"You would not believe it now, but James says Mr Bancroft read Classics at Oxford and graduated with honours before taking up the law. But greed and a total lack of self-discipline seem to have destroyed his character, and Mrs Bancroft has probably discovered to her cost that he was no longer the man she had married."
"Do they have any children?" Becky asked, beginning to feel some sympathy for the unfortunate Mrs Bancroft.
"Two daughters—Hermione and Diana—classical names as you can see, but, I am informed, both rather self-willed and more like their father than Mrs Bancroft. To the best of my knowledge, they have very little in common with their mother and are not inclined to participate in her charitable work. I understand they spend most of their time with their relations in London, enjoying the dubious delights of the city," said Emma, leaving Becky in no doubt of her opinion on the matter.
The arrival of the maid with news that Mr Wilson had returned brought their conversation to an end, but not before Emma had promised to ask her husband for more information about Mr Bancroft, if it would help.
Grateful and more surprised than she had expected to be, Becky retired to her room to rest awhile before preparing to dress for dinner.
Chapter Seven
Becky Tate's diary went everywhere with her.
Each night, before she retired to bed, she made the entries for the day just gone. Her writer's instincts acted as an excellent discipline whenever she travelled, for she would make copious notes of everything, no matter how trivial, and record them together with her own observations and feelings.
Over the next few days, during her short but significant visits to Standish Park and later Blessington Manor, Becky's diary made engrossing reading.
This is such a delightful place, she wrote that night as she enthused over the hospitality and comforts she had enjoyed at Standish Park.
It is no wonder Emma seems so content. Yet there is so much more to her happiness than the elegance and comfort that marriage to Mr Wilson has brought; there is here real contentment, the kind that comes only with genuine love and deep satisfaction.
That Emma and James love each other deeply is clear to anyone who observes them together. Their affection for one another is unambiguously expressed in everything they do.
Going down to dinner, I entered the room and surprised them standing together by the windows overlooking the terrace, close together, talking softly, touching, like lovers, unwilling to move apart. Even when they knew I was there, as I very quickly apologised for having walked in upon them without knocking, there was not even a hint of discomposure. Emma smiled, and James came forward to greet me cordially and asked if I had had a comfortable journey.
Thereafter, having performed the usual courtesies as a good host should, he went back to sit on the sofa beside his loving wife, as though reluctant to leave her side.
At dinner, where we were joined by Emma's eldest daughter Victoria and her husband Mr Edward Fairfax, James and Emma sat, not at opposite ends of the long dining table, remote from one another as most couples do, but rather, she sat to his left, and I was invited to take the chair on his right, while Victoria and her husband sat one down from each of us. Their two boys, Charles and Colin, are both at College, progressing well in their studies and expecting to go up to Cambridge, Emma says, with justifiable but not excessive pride. Her modesty is perhaps the best thing about her, though there is much to love and admire in Emma Wilson.
It was clearly difficult for Becky to conceal her feelings as she described the domestic bliss she sensed at Standish Park. Her own life had been very different. In Becky's marriage to Mr Tate, there had been little closeness of the kind she could sense between Emma and her husband, while the warmth of the Wilsons' bonds with their children contrasted with the sorry state of her own relationship with her son Walter and his wife, Pauline.
Becky wrote:
Emma's closeness to her children must be a source of great happiness, increasing surely the contentment she feels in her marriage.
Clearly Victoria enjoys an enviable affinity with her mother, and I understand from her that when the two boys are home, Emma dotes upon them. How fortunate must such a woman be.
I can truly say that apart from Richard Gardiner and Cassy, I have not seen such open affection between a married couple. There must be many who would long for such enviable intimacy.
Apart from noting with an understandable degree of benign envy the domestic bliss of the Wilsons, Becky also gathered some useful information of the sort she had come to Standish Park to find. Both Mr Wilson and Mr Fairfax had strong opinions on the conduct of the magistrate, Mr Bancroft, and the nature of his dealings with some of his friends.
She recorded the salient points for future reference.
James Wilson was the more discreet of the two men; being himself a judge, no doubt he was unwilling to speak ill of a fellow judicial officer, but even he did not deny that Bancroft had acquired a reputation for favouring his friends and relations. The fact that many of these people were heartily loathed by the general populace did not improve matters for him.
Mr Wilson was of the opinion that Bancroft's judgments were often affected by either friendship or alcohol or both.
Mr Edward Fairfax was much less restrained. Younger and more outspoken, he made it quite clear that he considered Mr Bancroft both ineffective and corrupt, to the point that his young wife felt constrained to intervene and caution him—but he was quite unapologetic
"The man's a blackguard, my dear," he said with brutal frankness, "it is common knowledge that he consorts with the lowest types—lazy rich men with no scruples, who get away with crimes that would see a working man hang!"
Becky had been amazed at the hostility expressed towards Mr Bancroft. She mused:
It does seem that the Bancrofts are not as well regarded as one might have expected them to be, largely on account of Mr Bancroft's reputation for nepotism and corruption. Unfortunately, his wife does not seem to get much credit for her charitable work, which Emma Wilson does vouch for, while her errant husband is roundly condemned for his misdeeds. I wonder if I am to meet Mr Bancroft at Blessington Manor?
How then should I behave towards him, knowing as I do now that he is such a man? It would be impolite indeed to my hostess Mrs Bancroft, were I to show displeasure or aloofness towards her husband; yet how am I to contain my feelings of abhorrence, since I am so well aware of his reprehensible conduct? Poor Mrs Bancroft, how must she feel knowing all this, as she surely must?
It is a matter that requires much more thought than I have time for now.
Becky could not decide how to deal with a situation that clearly she had not anticipated. She was determined, however, to be circumspect and diplomatic in her approach to Mrs Bancroft, as her main aim was to gain her confidence and assistance for the benefit of Alice Grey and her husband.
Awaking early on the following morning and looking out on the exquisite prospect that stretched across the river away into the distance, Becky felt an urge to be dressed quickly and walk in the garden before breakfast. The scents and colours of Autumn were all around her, filling her senses as she made her way through the grounds and out towards the orchard. Becky had never experienced such a delightful ambience in her life.
Returning to the house, she entered the breakfast room to find Emma Wilson already at the table. Greeting her cordially, Emma moved to offer Becky tea and toast and a range of delicacies, kept warm in silver dishes upon the sideboard. Becky was in the middle of her meal when James Wilson came into the room, a letter in his hand. Delivered very early that morning, he said, it had been sent from Pemberley by Mr Darcy.
He spoke gently to his wife. "Emma dearest, we have some grave news: Mr Darcy writes that Mrs Emily Courtney is unwell; she has apparently been sick for some considerable time…"
Emma rose from her seat at the table, clearly alarmed. "Mr Darcy has written? What does he say about Emily?"
"He does not give much detail, except to say that Jessica and Julian are gone to Oakleigh to see what needs to be done. He says also that Emily's brother Dr Richard Gardiner is attending upon her."
Emma, obviously distressed, tearful, and concerned, asked, "Does he say how she is progressing?"
"No, but she cannot be in any immediate danger, although it can be assumed that it is a serious condition, else Mr Darcy is not likely to have written with such urgency," her husband replied.
Emma moved to leave the table, asking to be excused. "James, I would very much wish to go to her. Jessica is unlikely to be able to do very much—she has only recently had a child… Do you think I could… Would you…?"
James Wilson did not wait for her to finish before putting an arm around her and reassuring her, "Of course, my dear, I will send for the steward and ask that the carriage be prepared to take us to Rochester. We had b
est take the train north from there."
Becky had been close to Emily Courtney for many years, but sadly could not offer to accompany them to Derbyshire. Reluctantly, she asked Emma to take her best wishes to Emily, her longtime friend, and promised she would see her very soon.
Later she would write of her sadness at the news.
For many years, when the family at Pemberley regarded me as the villain of the piece, because I had persuaded Josie to marry Julian Darcy, Emily never forsook our friendship. Indeed for a while she was, outside of my own family, my only friend. For that kindness I am ever grateful. Yet twice in her life, when Emily has faced a crisis, I have not been able to go to her side. It is a matter of the deepest regret to me that this time too, I have another more pressing matter that keeps me from her.
Woman of Influence (Pemberley Chronicles) Page 12